7.23.09. 12am.
back in the saddle again.
so here we are. apparantly: it's been two years. whatever. this blog is so 2007.
anyway, i'm working on a show. my buddy heather mentioned to me once a pattern she has on every show she works on, where one night she loves every cue, every light, her work is gorgeous. and the next night she thinks everything is pure crap, she needs to refocus every light, change all the colors and start from scratch. and every show she just hopes to land on openning night on a night where she likes it. so that's a little more extreme than i am, but i was picking up what she was laying down. is it like that for all art and all artists? or just me and heather? or maybe just theater artists, because of the singular deadline-pressure we experience.
which is all to say, tonight was the night i hated my work. which is how i come to be eating cookie dough and typing in an attempt to wind down before bed.
as a theater hobbiest who masquerades as a professional—or perhaps vice versa—i much prefer the nights where i like my work. yes, obviously, but i more mean because i care more about my experience of my work than the objective quality therein. i do this for me.
which relates, somehow, to something i said once about insanity that erica semi-quoted back to me, which i will now paraphrase: a lot of the outward signs of craziness are not themselves intrinsically crazy. it's not so much that kicking a puppy (which was apparantly the for instance i used in this conversation) is bad in and of itself, in a sort of net utility way, it's that only a maniac would do it. in other words, the outward trappings of something are sometimes only correlated, not causal, but useful proxies nonetheless.
man, i was so sure that was related to the other thing when i started typing. shows what i know.