Wednesday, May 17, 2017

May 17, 2017

Immense wall of pink cloud at dawn in the north, visible through my tiny study window. My hollies are a din of calling birdlife. The unhacked bamboo shoots– those on the apartment house side of the fence–are fifteen feet tall, still formidable leafless spears. Planted over the last few days, columbine and lady’s mantel and spurge and hydrangea and a Carolina spice bush the clerk said would draw wood thrush.  The towhee has grown companionable, and will feed a few feet away from me as I work.

Finished “Seaside Town.” Began work on a new play–all while sitting for an hour at the High Five.

Tech week for The Great Gatsby. There’s nothing like the proximity of a small dressing room and five or six guys to give one perspective on human diversity. One of us has Marine-like efficiency (he has to, having the most costume and scene changes). One of our number has trouble dressing himself, figuring out how to button cuffs or fasten fasteners. Even putting on a shirt seems to daunt him. Everyone instinctively steps in to help him over the gaps. He has, in compensation for this, the most beautiful back I have ever seen, from the hairline to the top of the pants, Apollonian. I consider that he himself has probably never seen this asset. I am by thirty five years the oldest person in the cast, and the conversation in the dressing room can be informative. Last night the boys were challenging each other to trivia. I’m pretty good at trivia, so I thought I might shine, but they meant (and understood without having to say) the specific subset of Star Wars trivia, and left me instantly in the dust. They know the name of the captain of the star ship that glided across the screen one time. They know the home planet of. . . everybody. If attention ever turns to history or science, I hope to mop the floor with them. I’m having a good time. The drive is grueling, but if it’s the most grueling thing this summer, I am blessed.

Reserved our digs in Galway. I know it from my time on the Sea Road, thinking I might dwell there. Excited about the return to Ireland. Excited in general, though it’s hard to know by what.

No comments: