I've been running from place to place for several days now; one job ends and another one begins.
Fire Marshall says we can no longer store materials on the stage, and so last night I packed up my entire theatre program (give or take some chairs, fake trees, and a rack of costumes) and sent it off to deep storage. DO NOT OPEN UNTIL SUMMER 2007.
Scrap wood and four sets of stairs had been cluttering up the place and it was time to clean house, but when I showed up tonight for the first rehearsal of the new show and I looked at the empty stage it felt like something had been lost, like we were back to being this transitory thing, a ghost of a theatre company.
Halloween came and went in a recycled costume at work and an empty movie theatre at night. Pretty much no one knows who Speed Racer is anymore, just so you know, so my streak of completely obscure costume choices is alive and kicking.
Didn't feel like passing candy out to junior high kids who don't even make an attempt to dress up. The younger ones must head off to the nicer Naperville neighborhoods. Went to the movies and finally saw Marie Antoinette.
Maybe it's a chick flick, but I don't really care about that shit. I like what I like. Lost in Translation was one of the best films I saw in the last five years and Sofia knows what she's doing with sound and images. Isolation and expectations and New Order and watching the sun rise from Versailles. Magnificent.
Saturday I get to hit the fucking road and head to a new place. The Quad Cities, we call it. Davenport and Bettendorf, Iowa, and Rock Island and Moline, Illinois. Couple of hours west of here, four cities that ride the Mississippi River. One of the Limelighters directed a show at Augustana and we're heading west to check it out.
I could use a few hours on the road, with music and jokes and a packed bag and a hotel room waiting and new streets to walk and explore. I could use a lot of that, actually.
The skin on my face feels tight and my brow tightens as my eyes squint out towards what happens next.
