Mike Donahue and I have discovered that the way to survive rehearsals that go to 11 is for one of us to bring the dinner and the other to bring dessert. So far Donahue has been responsible for dessert. Yesterday we rehearsed Rice to Riches and today we rehearsed Magnolia. I mean, the play. I mean, what?
When you shine bright lights on a herd of grazing playwrights, they are often stunned into standing very still, as they wait to be consumed by predators. – David Attenborough, shooting a nature documentary across the sprawling plains of Juilliard. (Photo by http://GregoryCostanzo.com/)
The last weekend of my SPACE residency. I find it hard to imagine that winter will come, and I won’t be back here every other weekend/ every second/ tomorrow/ right now. Sarah Lunnie took most of these pictures, while also dramaturging my play, while also wearing bohemian wrist-warmers from Estonia. New residents included two white horses and two bearded goats. My friends are a glam set.
There comes a time in every person’s life when you become responsible for the life of another. One is not always ready to become a parent. One does not always expect to become a parent. But when you come face to face with your child for the first time, and it looks up at you with its giant, trusting, slightly bulging eyes, and you hold its small tank in your arms in the midst of the chaos of an East Village bar, and your child is an albino African Clawed Frog, you fall in love. And you know that you will do whatever it takes, like capturing baby cockroaches and mosquitos and house flies, to make your child happy.
Meet Mazefield. He likes Yayoi Kusama installations, Ariana Grande sing-alongs, hiding inside of an egg-cup, and grabbing food with both front hands and stuffing it into his mouth, because his species doesn’t have a tongue. Mazefield also likes it when I crouch in front of his tank going, “Is he depressed? Do you think he’s depressed? Does he look depressed?” and Mazefield’s more well-adjusted co-parent says, “I think he looks like a frog.”
In DC for 24 hours. The small pleasures include: seeing people I love, eating good things and drinking good things, and passing an Ebola public health workshop being held in a basement. Yes DC, yes.
I turned a year older, and these are some of the people who helped me do it:
It happened. Seven courses, seven plays, seven locations.
Not pictured (I briefly lost my phone in the middle): Posner on the lawn. Props to Joe Waechter for getting the picture of Mfoniso.