GRABBINGSAND

there comes this point during the rehearsal or the run of a show that you feel the lines lock. you hope that it happens during tech week, that last week that ends with opening night. you start to speak the lines in character, naturally, not from memory, and oddly enough it seems to dawn on …

So where have I been? What am I doing? It feels as if I have left the poor site in an empty apartment awaiting my eventual return. Thankfully, it is built more like a dromedary cactus than a puppy. It survives and sustains, albeit a bit stunted. So what has taken all of my time? …

final dress rehearsal. the tradition holds that a final dress rehearsal is destined to be hideous, a thing that dares to dash all those built-up hopes of a good show. a bad final dress equals a good opening. hogwash. a bad final dress simply comes out of nervousness and anticipation, the knowing that this is …

you can definitely tell that i am in the throes of another play. everything else seems to get kicked to the side, like laundry. you know, when you spend the whole evening doing laundry and you finally finish that second or third load, and you dump all the clothes on your bed. they are ready …