Kelsey and I talked this one through two days ago. Since then, another person from the previous workshop has signed on for the summer workshop, and more money has been raised for summer honoraria. It’s a challenging time in the history of this planet — but there’s more hope than we know. Kelsey Chapman and Andy Pope do the talking on May 24, 2021.
(1) I was grateful to see that the little Greek gyros place on Main Street has opened up for indoor seating now, as long as people wear their masks when not seated. Nice to see things returning to a semblance of normalcy.
(2) In the past couple days I’ve been blessed to accomplish much more reading than usual, by way of research. Among other things, I read all kinds of information related to the “social construction of reality,” culminating in this excellent 14-minute video. All of this is turning out to be very useful in the blog sequel I’m slowly composing for Thursday.
(3) Gorgeous clear day today, having gotten up to 48F degrees already, though it was 26F when I first awoke in the morning. Doppio at the cafe makes me want to walk vigorously, like I did yesterday, four miles.
(4) Grateful for this A&W being so close to my house, because it has really fast Wi-Fi and they don’t mind me sitting in here for a while. Good coffee, too. A nice place to take my new laptop after an afternoon nap.
(5) I’m really grateful for Kelsey, because she is such a grounding force in the project, both conceptually, and in terms of providing a bridge between me and the younger actors. It’s been wonderful working with her on the deeper themes during these podcasts. Grateful for Cody & Keva and the others who remain enthused. Their spirit is helping to sustain a feeling that I’m not in this thing alone.
“We are what we repeatedly do. Excellence, then, is not an act, but a habit.” –Will Durant
Here’s the sequel to Talking Shop, Part Two, in which the character known as Winston Greene is further explored. This time we talk about how the misconception that a person of Winston’s considerable privilege ought to be a rescuer of those not so endowed is no longer applicable to the kind of person that Winston has become. 14 minutes w/intro & well worth a listen imo. Some of it may be a bit esoteric — but you can always buzz me with any questions.
This morning I’d like to present a one minute audition video recently created by Keva Shull who is playing the female lead Taura in the current workshop of my musical Eden in Babylon. Keva had approached me earlier in the year when I’d offered to tutor Music Theory and Composition and Creative Writing of Fiction over Zoom as the pandemic first put us into quarantine.
It turned out that she had written a musical about the stigma surrounding mental health disorders. I naturally asked her how she chose me of all people, because I have written a musical about mental health conditions myself (my earlier musical, The Burden of Eden.)
Must have been meant to be. I eventually cast Keva in the leading role. As you can see and hear today, I am very happy to have done so.
As I wrote the words “End of Act One” at the bottom of p.86, I looked at the computer clock. It was 6:45am.
No – I did not stay up all night. True, I got to work on time last night by the skin of my teeth. A phone call to announce I’d been searching for my missing keys seemed appropriate. Granted, the keys were only missing for about five seconds. But at least I didn’t lie about it.
Four hours of work was fine. I concentrated well on the job, when called for. I was unusually silent during dinner hour — and I’m sure you all know why.
As soon as I got home, I grabbed my laptop and headed to the Bagel Shop. There I remained until the first rush of drunken students arrived. I returned to my room, and wrote till midnight. As the clock struck twelve, I gave up. I had been belaboring the end of the Act for so long to no avail, I’m sure all the Museswere snoring in their sleep from boredom. Soon, I was snoring too.
And it’s a good thing. I got up at around 4am, took my thyroid medication, drank some water, did some reading, made some coffee, called a friend, and finally braved the unknown.
Then, what didn’t happen last night happened this morning. It was uncanny. It’s a rare experience, and very difficult to describe. The same experience occurred when I wrote the Siddhartha Monologue, and the lyrics to“Midnight Screams.” The rush of creative fire ripped through my bloodstream. It practically burned through my pores. As I wrote the “oracle” that my protagonist, Winston Greene, is supposed to be “receiving” at the end of the Act, it was as though I myself were receiving it — from somewhere. It couldn’t have happened last night, either. Last night all I did was stare brain-dead at the page. It must have happened when it was meant to happen; for this morning, I was on fire.
Honestly, I got so excited when the final verses of the song came about, I could barely focus to write. Mercifully, I was able to contain myself just long enough to finish the Act. At that, I heard the voice of my Theatre Arts mentor, the late Tom McKenzie, clearly saying what he no doubt would have said to me at that moment – God rest his soul.
“And now, it’s time for you to put it aside for a while.”