Wednesday, June 29, 2005
Hazy, hot, HUMID
My goodness, it feels like I’m breathing underwater. The weight of the air is astonishing.
I was concerned about all the time I spent on Monday setting up the admin systems for The Thirteen Traveling Journals Project. However, it makes responding to interested diarists and keeping the committed diarists updated much easier.
Now, if I can only apply some of that organization to the REST of my life . . . :)
It was very difficult to haul myself to the theatre last night, and not just because of the weather. Having a taste of my Real Life always makes it harder to go back to my Former Life. Once I was in the building, with people I enjoy, I worked hard to find the small joys in the work. I still enjoy the work. It’s all the crap surrounding the work I can do without.
I made my decisions on the cover art for the novellas, and my trusted circle at the show completely agrees (and, frankly, they were thrilled to be included). That’s something that I like about the journal project as well – I get to include people from my theatre life in the transition. It’s not breaking one life to enter another. It’s using the theatre life as a building block to the writing life.
We also sorted through the photos from the photo shoot. The general consensus for the journal project was an interesting shot of an old map of the world and an open journal – I just have to make sure that, should the entry be blown up, it’s not something I mind being public! :)
I should have mocked up a page for the shoot; instead I used a genuine journal. However, the viewers felt that’s what gave the shot integrity. Interesting.
We all agreed that we haven’t quite hit the mark with the Ink in My Coffee logo.
I’m hoping that Blogger fixes this scrolling problem on this site. I don’t want to switch templates. I like this template for this particular project.
A few minutes before the show last night, an announcement came over the PA: “We are being kept apprised of the situation outside that’s closed Eighth Avenue. Please do not attempt to leave the building. We will let you know if and when we are back on schedule.”
Meanwhile, we’re all looking at each other, going, “What situation? You’re not preventing panic over here; you’re just pissing us off.”
We only went up a few minutes late. Eighth Avenue was closed for awhile because somehow a garbage can found its way into the traffic lanes about a block from our theatre and there was concern that it had been stuffed with explosives. I guess it was all for naught, because it only delayed the show by 5 minutes. And nothing went boom!, so we got off easy. Actually, in relationship to where the “incident” took place, we were as safe as we could be in that space, because of the construction, and, backstage, the lack of windows. Certainly much better than if we’d been herded out into the street.
Life in New York – under the siege of constant terror threats.
Show went fine. I made one mistake – the tin man’s costume has changed, so now the legs are in multiple parts instead of each leg being one unit. And I got the left and right bottom parts mixed up. But we figured it out in time – um, it didn’t fit, pretty obvious—and changed it. The actor thought it was pretty funny, so it was all good.
I’ve got to put together some things for the photo shoot between shows today, and get some work done on Elusive Prayers. I’m so happy that that’s the only writing I have to worry about this week.
Although I heard from an editor on a pitch – she likes my idea, but wants something shorter than I’d suggested. So I said I’d like to give it a shot. Keep your fingers crossed!
The Thirteen Traveling Journals Project
The Widow’s Chamber
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