I drove home from rehearsal last night, my brain firing off lists like nobody’s business – Program, DVD, Certificates, Monk’s, Forks, Fruit, Sound, Tech (!), Blog, Blog, Blog…
So I got home and stuffed my mouth with a ChocoTaco and set down to tidy up a few things on that list before my lids revolted and permanently shut down for the night, in the hopes that I could get a handle on it all somehow…
What is it that drives me to continually engineer means to be busy? I look around at my “Civilian” friends who have their evenings free to eat at the table, watch t.v. and help the kids with their homework and I think “Am I just crazy?”
Or is it part of the artist’s path that s/he may not be satisfied until her/his work is out there… in the world… making some kind of imprint…
I woke up this morning after dreams about tornados and long, treacherous hallways (thank you subconscious) with that list-making brain already back in full gear, and noticed -forming at the bottom of that list – were fresh thoughts about the next big “What if…” project.
Umm, I might be obsessed.
Which may be why I’m so tired.
See, I started LittleBlackDressINK out of my frustration with waiting… it felt like, as a playwright, I was always waiting for a reading, or a production – and (to be honest) although readings are fun, I’ve had about all of them I can cheer about and now just experience them as the observational meet and greets they mostly are – for very rarely does it seem the reading is being held to weigh in on possible production. (If you haven’t read Outrageous Fortune yet, they talk extensively about the realities of what many of us call “Development Hell” and it’s seriously fascinating to hear from both other playwrights AND theatre companies on this subject)
Which isn’t to say that I don’t enjoy readings – I do, I do. I just attend them with my writing ears on and little expectation beyond some new business cards in my pocket and rewrites on my mind.
Meanwhile, I’m hungry for stage time.
So it seemed the obvious step to carve some out for myself.
Yet… the hat-juggling of working a “real” job, plus producing/directing a show, plus the numerous other projects I have running simultaneously (I’m in the midst of managing some theatrical marketing for an upcoming event and I edit two other blogs) does make me wonder when I’ll tire of this circus life and…
Doesn’t it manifest a “Throw in the Towel” type vibe when you read that?
But will I ever be able to truly support myself on my writing alone?
Will I ever be able to truly be satisfied with a teaching gig and some writing time in the summer?
Will things change when I finally tie my wagon to another’s and start popping out tots of my own?
Or am I too hard wired for motion? Too geared for hurdle-jumping, to ever truly slow down to a snails pace, and get back to just “Waiting”?
It’s probabaly all a little too much to be thinking about at the moment- I’ve got a mountain of things to check off that list today and scant time for little else – but still, it lingers…
It lingers along with loud dreams of the next “What if?”