In getting my play Whorapy on its feet I want to do it organically as possible; bring people in slowly and mix and match until there’s a common communal wavelength that brings the highest possible resonance aesthetically, emotionally and spiritually to the piece; today I just cast the third part of the eleven I need; it’s great to build piece by piece; I’ve never been fond of cattle calls, not for this sort of piece, at least; so now eight to go.
The next step is finding a home to build Pussyhats, the speakeasy where most of the play takes place; it is a play and will be a film; last night catching pieces old black and white film at a bar, I saw how the camera was subtly and constantly in motion and following the actor s they moved in any direction; maybe I’m sensitive to it, biased towards the era but it seems actor and camera were more of a tango than tug of war or chop boxing match; I would like to incorporate more of that ye olde tyme style to what I and my crew create; first, though, Whorapy as play. My acting teacher said that thirty years ago TV was at the bottom rung of the writing spectrum and now TV is superior to film and theater which are more ho-hum; I have a passionate auto-corrective mechanism to change that sentiment, that pattern; maybe theater is dead or cryogenically loitering until it’s thawed for a new generation of glorious divine human madness; I don’t know the answer but I do know, from when I directed my last play in 2000 in San Francisco, people either loved or hated it; I want people to have an experience form the moment they step into the building; theater is an event, a phenomenon and I hope twenty years from now acting teachers will say theater won;t even have to say theater and film are in Renaissance; it’ll be dripping down the walls I feel lucky to have found the actors I have to this point, I look forward to the next pieces floating into the goo I call art.
In two weeks I hope to have the Frenemies video complete.
In two weeks I plan to be on stage talking about history of dental floss or birthmothers or conspiracy theories or whatever bubbles out of my mouth and being without burning my tongue.
I can say I can live with never drinking again; I had three quarters of a glass of wine last night and had Dystopian dreams and today feel like a twenty year old Candygram; so, no more.