13

What I Read in 2016

You’ve been forewarned – even though this is my first post of 2017, it will most likely be on the boring side.

So how are you? I’m doing fine, kind of FOMO right now, since I’m always in the wrong city, state, or country, as the occasion merits. This week in Madison, I’m missing Salsa Saturday, a number of dance classes, as well as a few get-togethers, and for New Year’s Eve, I was sitting at home with my parents rather than at a party in Madison or doing the midnight toast song with brothers who stayed in Pittsburgh. I am, however, enjoying just taking it easy for once after a stressful December (well, more like a stressful November, but a return-to-human December, as well as other household and teaching-related tasks that piled up on me) and trying to recoup and regroup for the coming year. I’m scheduled to fly back to Madison on Sunday, via Atlanta. Hopefully 2017 will be a zen time for me, to make up for the craziness of 2016 – not all bad, but just intense. Part of me is enjoying being lazy (I’ve either slept late or taken an afternoon nap every day this year/week), but another part of me really just wants to get back to Madison and figure out the rest of my life.

Anyway.

2016 was a relatively good year in terms of reading. According to Goodreads, I read 46 books totaling 13,716 pages. My shortest read was 129 pages and my longest was 560. My favorite books of the year were HushThe Phantom Limbs of the Rollow Sisters, and What Was Lost. From my Giant Reading List (approximately 248 fiction and 195 nonfiction/theatre), I read HushA Breath of Fresh AirLife is Not a Fairy TaleSpider Web, and We Are On Our Own. The most interesting stat? I read exactly double the number of books I read in 2015, and slightly more than double the pages, so that’s something.

Right now, I should go and finish a book that I’m about halfway through but want to get rid of tomorrow.

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4

Ten Things I Don’t Understand About Myself/Things I Do But Don’t Know Why

I haven’t made a good list in a while, and it’s like having a good cry, so here goes.

Ten Things I Don’t Understand About Myself/Things I Do But Don’t Know Why

  1. I do laundry, but I cannot fold it until I know that there is something online or on TV that I want to watch so I can multitask. I can’t fold laundry without doing something else at the same time, and since laundry-folding requires two hands, TV just requires my two eyes.
  2. I wash dishes…in the morning, while my coffee is being made. Yep, that’s the only time I will hand-wash dishes. Usually I am still in pajamas so if I get splashed it’s not such a huge deal. That’s somewhat logical, but why not just wash them right away? And today I got Starbucks before going to work rather than making my own coffee, so…sorry, sink full of dishes.
  3. I can’t play Words with Friends while walking. Doesn’t work for me. Must be either seated, standing, or lying down.
  4. I never have any clothes, and then when I go on shopping sprees and spend a lot of money on clothes, they all seem to disappear. Currently, I’m down to two pairs of khakis, two pairs of dress pants, and ONE pair of jeans. Jeans don’t seem to last long, especially if you have an active life and are walking around campus all day.
  5. I tell everyone that I keep my car clean, but it’s really not clean. I mean, the front seat is okay, sometimes has some papers or pens on it, and the backseat isn’t bad, but I throw stuff in the trunk and have no idea how much has accumulated back there until I have to squish things to get my groceries in.
  6. I can’t ever have just one piece of gum. Right now, for example, I’m chewing four pieces, like some kind of barbarian.
  7. I have an order of how I read books, but I’m constantly forgetting it/changing it.
  8. I have shows I watch religiously online, but I’ve never seen an episode of said show live/on TV. Yep, the Late Show, Colbert Report, Late Late…and I’m usually awake, too. Watching clips on YouTube.
  9. I never use anything handicapped, except bathroom stalls. I feel like it’s just a bad omen, from parking spots to using ramps instead of steps. I think I walked up the ramp to get into my building once, because I was talking with someone, and I had a split-second anxiety attack. Handicapped bathroom stalls are fair game, because it would be quite rare for me to be using the stall when an actual handicapped person might need it, and if I’m in there, I’m usually out pretty quickly.
  10. I wait all day to post something, just before midnight. Even though I sometimes come up with multiple ideas a day, it takes me until the witching hour to get it down. It doesn’t matter whether I have a free hour for lunch or something, it doesn’t get from brain to blog until this time of day, when I’m already tired and stressed.
2

Some Goals for December

Hey y’all!

Okay, so now that the hellish month known as November is dunzo, and school/work is tapering off as winter break gets closer, and other stuff, it’s time for a comeback, and instead of lamenting my lack of quality ideas for posts, I’m just going to make this goals list for December and see how it goes:

Goals for December 2016

Blogging

  • Write something every day, or at least as close to that as possible.
  • Think of a new blogging project/game/blogsperiment for 2017.
  • Update/fix up some half-finished posts.

Real-Life Stuff

  • Work on finding new place to live.
  • Go through closet and determine what clothes need replacing.
  • Deep clean kitchen/bathroom.
  • Read more books, especially library books.

Finish strong!

7

Things I’m Sick of Hearing

This might develop into a series, but I’m pretty serious…it’s been a stressful week and I’ve discovered that my patience is already beginning to wear thin, despite being just the second week of school.

On The Phone

“Say that again?” – I don’t mumble, I speak clearly and actually usually a little too loudly into the phone, so either turn your volume up or pay attention because I’m pretty sure they can hear me in Connecticut.

In The Classroom

Can we play Sugar Salt? No. We cannot and we will never play that game, ever, again.

I have four things to say. No. One. Just choose one.

Can I please go to the bathroom? You went twenty minutes ago, and we have a break in another twenty, and you’re eight. You don’t need to.

I don’t want to play. Fine, go off to military school.

At the Jewelry Stand

When are you open again? Never. If you don’t buy it today, you will never see us again.

How much longer are you open for? I don’t know, are you planning on buying anything?

I’ll come back later. THAT’S A LIE. Never once has someone come back later.

How much for the dog? No. No. SHUT UP AND GET OUT. Seriously. He’s our pet. It wasn’t funny the first time I heard it, and it hasn’t been funny ever since.

Here’s what I want to say in response to that inane question, but can’t:

  • We sell jewelry, not animals.
  • I don’t know. How much for your firstborn child?
  • You are so clever! I have never had anybody ask that before! How ever did you come up with that?
  • Bad joke, you owe me twenty dollars.
  • Buy some jewelry now because you’re getting on my nerves.
  • SHUT UP AND GET AWAY FROM THE STAND AND OUT OF MY LIFE FOREVER.
5

Ten More Ways to Soothe Your Summer

It’s all come down to this…tomorrow is the big day.

Prelim Exam A.

I think I’m going to have a headache, stomachache, vertigo, and nausea all at the same time. This morning I went to a pancake breakfast at the elementary school where I’ll be teaching starting next week, and got to meet all the parents and students; already, it seems like a lifetime ago. I spent the rest of my day talking with some friends on Facebook, rereading some of my papers, rereading one of the plays, imagining hypothetical questions, shopping at Kohl’s, and going to the gym. Now I’m just sitting on the couch watching The Golden Girls and waiting for some food to finish cooking.

Since my stress level is higher than the Capital building right now, I thought I’d get back to something I started at the beginning of the month, but since 10 is a good number, here are ten more ways to soothe your summer.

1. Say thank you.

It’s two simple words that are so easy to say. What the hell, add in a “so much” if you so desire. Don’t go overboard, but tell someone that you have appreciated something that they have done recently, and why. Or, just for being themselves. It’s free to do, doesn’t expire, and can spawn even more calm and happiness into the world.

2. Help out at an event, even when you’re not asked.

At this morning’s pancake breakfast, after the parents had left the school and the children were in class, I summoned over one of the teachers who wasn’t working at the moment and we put the rest of the milk in the fridge so it wouldn’t spoil. Granted, it was soy milk, which lasts for way longer than regular milk, but still, it was one less thing for someone else to do.

3. Buy someone else a gift.

Don’t go overboard with this one, but if the occasion merits, spend some extra time and money, get someone a gift, and make a plan to get it to them ASAP. Something little that can brighten someone’s day. It was easy for me to do today; my office mate and his wife had a baby two weeks ago, so I went to Kohl’s and got them a $25 gift card. We have our first staff meeting of the semester the day after tomorrow. I can’t wait to give it to him.

4. Buy yourself a nice outfit.

New year, new school, new duds. While I was at Kohl’s, I saw a few shirts and pants that looked nice, so I spent some time trying them on and texting out selfies to see which outfit I should buy. I found a long sleeved lavender Oxford with black dress pants, and then a short-sleeved green and white striped oxford with khakis. I ended up going with the second one, which got the better reviews anyway. I can’t decide whether I want to wear it to the staff meeting or the first day of school.

5. Light a new candle.

There was a green-apple-and-kale candle on the clearance shelf. It smells great. It’s burning right now. Unlike most scented candles, it’s a rather unobtrusive scent, and I can actually smell it several feet away, without leaning over it.

6. Make a meal, and eat it off of your nicest china with your nicest silverware.

Granted, I only have two sets of china and silverware (one meat and one dairy), but rather than going out for an expensive meal, I just finished eating some homemade herb-crusted tilapia and broccoli. Speaking of food…

7. Eat some vegetables.

I know, shocking coming from me, but I just heated up a broccoli/carrot/cauliflower mix in the microwave and ate it. Even though it’s not my favorite food group, it tasted fine and I probably got a few vitamins out of it as well. And on that note…

8. Rice is nice.

I just finished cooking some basmati rice, and it came out clumpy and firm just like I like it. I guess if you’re gluten-free, this might not be the best option for you, but it’s odd how something so insignificant can make you feel so normal.

9. Find something to look forward to.

While I was out, I saw a banner across the front of Barnes & Noble; Jennifer Chiaverini is doing a talk and a book signing in two weeks. And two weeks after that is the Wisconsin Salsa Festival in Milwaukee, with a pre-party in Madison. Maybe I’ll try out the new float spa this week or next, or go antiquing in Columbus.

10. When all else fails, Golden Girls.

Even when you’re feeling alone, Dorothy, Blanche, Rose, and Sophia will always be there with something to say to make you laugh.

Good night everybody. Sleep tight and keep me in your prayers.

129

June 2016 Blog Project Postmortem

Today is July 1. Happy Canada Day, and happy June 2016 blog project postmortem day!

I always wondered how people find blogs that they like, and how the friendship chain of blogging goes. Because I am a huge nerd, I launched an experiment: follow 6 new blogs a day, every day, for June 2016. I started off with six randomly chosen blogs, and saw how far I could go in making connections and new blog friends. I kept a flow chart, or “family tree” of how I found each blog – usually clicking through commenters or the blogger’s blogroll.

I had a few self-imposed rules:

Rule #1: Only follow friends of bloggers who have replied to my comment and/or followed me back.

Rule #2: Only follow blogs that have updated within the past month. 

Rule #3: Only follow blogs that are on topics that I would conceivably enjoy reading about. I have a wide range of interests so it isn’t hard. As long as it wasn’t just photos with no words, long and lugubrious poetry, or something that I found questionable, it was OK by me.

Rule #4: Try to vary between male/female bloggers, geographical locations, interests, age of blogs, and age of bloggers. Some bloggers I followed were just starting out, others had been around for a while. I could follow 180 post-a-day mommy blogs, and nothing against mommy bloggers, but there’s only so much mom talk I can relate to.

Rule #5: Try to follow people who I’d be friends with in real life. I have friends from all walks of life, so this was not hard, but I’ve read a few blogs in the past by people who I just felt were…a little off, in a bad way, and who posted some very questionable things, in different directions.

Here are the results, and the 6 family trees. I started with:

1 – Aishwarya Sivakumar

2 – I Accidently Ate The Whole Thing

3 – Amrita Kinne

4 – Divya Deepak Rao

5 – The Analyzed Life

6 – Big and Pinky Toes

Three of the families ended up having quite a lineage, and the other three kinda flamed out, when I wasn’t getting a response from any of the “family” members, so I focused my efforts elsewhere.

The three smaller families:

Family 4: Divya Deepak Rao

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1st Generation:

I didn’t end up getting any further bites, so I kind of gave up on that one pretty early on.

Family 2: I Accidently Ate The Whole Thing

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1st Generation:

2nd Generation:

Again, not a huge measure of success with this family, although I did try.

Family 6: Big and Pinky Toes

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1st Generation:

2nd Generation:

3rd Generation:

This family kind of ended a little prematurely, but at least the tree looks cute and even.

Next, the three BIG families (which all ended up being the odd numbers):

Family 1: Aishwarya Sivakumar

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1st Generation:

2nd Generation:

3rd Generation:

4th Generation:

5th Generation:

6th Generation:

7th Generation:

This blog family tree somehow ended in a lot of blogs about runners and running.

Now, for the two biggest ones:

Family 3: Amrita Kinne

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1st Generation:

2nd Generation:

3rd Generation:

4th Generation:

5th Generation:

6th Generation:

7th Generation:

8th Generation:

9th Generation:

10th Generation:

11th Generation:

12th Generation:

This family took on a lot of different directions, including two paths that led to a series of African bloggers, oddly enough.

And finally, Family 5: The Analyzed Life AKA the Mega Family

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1st Generation:

2nd Generation:

3rd Generation:

4th Generation:

5th Generation:

6th Generation:

7th Generation:

8th Generation:

9th Generation:

10th Generation:

11th Generation:

12th Generation:

13th Generation:

I enjoyed meandering down this path the most, and ended up finding blogs about travel, cuisine, writing, education, art, and an array of different countries and cities.

If you’re in this post, say hey and find your own place in the family tree.

I hope you enjoyed reading this post as much as my other posts (and as much as I enjoyed this nerdy project), and come back and visit often, and link your friends. Another great effect was the increased traffic: I had my busiest month this year, with around 2500 visits, and am halfway to 1500 subscribers!

Now, for my next blogging experiment…it might have to wait until August or September because I have way too much work to do on my prelims.

2

The ABCs of Dramaturgy

This past week, I finished reading Dramaturgy in the Making by Katalin Trenscenyi. In a word, it was: delicious. It asked and answered theoretical questions, provided helpful quotes, context, and examples, and helped me re-realize why I love dramaturgy so much. Trenscenyi calls the dramaturg more than just the “in-house critic”, a term which sounds way too uppity. I’ve never been referred to as that, but I’ve been “the guy who writes the program notes,” “the guy who talks to us about stuff,” “the guy who makes the packets,” and “…him, whoever he is. But I am so much more. Here’s just twenty-six roles a dramaturg plays, one for each letter of the alphabet. I’m not all of these for every single show, but that doesn’t mean I couldn’t be. Sometimes I’m just one or two; sometimes I’m all that and even more. So, buckle up, because you’re about to find out that a dramaturg is…

  • An advocate. Make sure no actors, characters, playwrights, directors, or animals are harmed during the making of this production. Speak up for the absent playwright, the overworked director, the actor who isn’t understanding what he’s talking about. Don’t let it go if it means that much to the production. Be a helpful reminder of who we are, why we are here, and what we are here to accomplish.
  • A builder. “why do you build me up, build me up, buttercup baby…” Just had to add that. The dramaturg is not necessarily the builder of the sets or the costumes, but helps to build the world of the play and keep it from crashing down. Even the campiest of plays and musicals need to have atmosphere, or else there’d be no room to breathe the erstwhile stale air.
  • A curator. Lobby displays are some of my favorite things to work on. It keeps my mind and body occupied and out of trouble at times, and usually they come out looking pretty darn impressive. My first foray into lobby installation was in high school, when I took photos of the cast during rehearsals and hung them on the walls of the lobby. For the next show, I took headshots of the six principal actors and put them on easels outside the theatre (I wanted to do everyone in the show, but that was around twenty people and we didn’t have nearly enough time or easels). My high school principal told me that he felt like he was in a professional theatre. My favorites have been the coffin I wrote an entry about awhile back and the time I transformed the lobby of the Merkaz into an all-American high school, complete with lockers, flags, and bulletin boards.
  • developer. Not only do we build, but we help to make sure all the pieces fit together, and that they go as far as they can to reflect the best work of the director, cast, and crew. It’s important to mind boundaries and not overstep them, but sometimes providing some helpful research, whether it’s sharing pictures of your great-grandmother’s gravestone (which got rebuilt as Fruma-Sarah’s grave in Fiddler on the Roof!) or giving advice on how to be a cheerleader (which I wanted to be in college, but…no, it did not happen). If there’s an idea, we can make it work and see it through.
  • An extra pair of hands. It helps to be handy, partially so you can prove to whomever thinks you’re a drama-nerd or a drama-turd that you’re actually a valuable member of the team. I’ve re-upholstered chairs, sewn costumes, hung lights, swept the floor, and once caught a stage manager who was twice my size when she was walking backwards and fell off the edge of the stage.
  • A fact-checker. Carcanet is a necklace, and it sounds like “carson-net.” She is reading in Yiddish, so she’d be turning the pages of the book in the opposite direction. In Dresden, bottle caps were manufactured differently than anywhere else in Germany. These are all things I have looked up, double-checked, and have ultimately enhanced the show.
  • A guide. I’m Jacob, and I’ll be your docent for this process we call the theatre. I write guides and I act as a guide, telling you helpful hints and places to go to get that perfect Snapchat angle. Welcome to your world, actors, directors, stage crew…enjoy it and treat it well.
  • A Houdini. Dramaturgs make the magic happen. My most badass dramaturg story is one for another time, but I’ve managed to whip up some pretty fancy Harry Potter-esque delights with limited time and resources. Getting a program insert typed and printed, helping an actor have a golden moment of awesome that impresses the pants off the director, transform the lobby into another country.
  • An interpreter. This is sometimes tricky, but a dramaturg who is effective is one who can communicate. Between the playwright and the cast, the script and the director, any sort of combination. Sometimes a cigar is just a cigar, but usually it’s a Bundt cake or a candelabra or the meaning of life. It’s also important that interpretation be known as something that’s not just the opinion of one person, but is something that is agreed upon in the production – not always the dramaturg’s decision, but the actors or director. And if it works, if it doesn’t, it’s not necessarily right or wrong – it’s just an interpretation.
  • A jewel miner. Help find the hidden gems, whether it’s a joke in the script that keeps getting glossed over (such as the Ireland joke in The Comedy of Errors that I attempted to parlay into the rest of the production by sewing a flag of Ireland onto the lower back of Nell’s jacket, which exactly one audience member noticed, on the last night, yelling out, “SHE’S GOT AN IRISH FLAG ON HER BUTT!”) or pointing out a special moment (two actors having particularly good chemistry, or something that someone ad-libs that makes the scene better).
  • A knife. Not the murderous butler, but someone who’s not afraid to give the script a big old chop. See “peacemaker” for the full story.
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  • A mapmaker. Sometimes you get to make and show the cast a literal map, like of the Federated States of Micronesia or the migration patterns of 16th century spice traders, or a royal family tree, but other times, it’s helping the director map out scenes so that they are cohesive, kind of like a storyboarder. The atlas is your friend because many a time will come when a city, country, or building will come up and no one else in the room has any context.
  • A navigator. Whether it’s through the murky waters of the River Nile or the depths of The Iceman Cometh, being the guy or girl with the compass to get everyone through not necessarily as the leader, but the right-hand, the first mate, seeing that nothing is going off the rails – that’s the person everyone wants on their side. Getting out of dangerous territory should be a prerequisite for the job. Only the strong survive.
  • An observer. Silence can be your friend. Just being a set of eyes in the room to oversee things can keep people in line, especially if you have a notebook (not a laptop, something with paper) and write as if you’re giving a grade. You can treat certain parts of the rehearsal as just a break from speaking, or thinking, and just watch.
  • A peacemaker. Sometimes a production can be like a bad family dinner, or a session of the United Nations. People don’t always see eye to eye on everything, and if there is an opportunity to make it better for everyone, and no one’s doing anything, just take the initiative. The worst that could happen is you could get told to mind your own business. One of my (less successful) attempts was on a production that was just too damn long. I was friends with the lead, and there was so much dialogue and extra scenes added into the script that when he and I read through it at my place before a rehearsal, him reading his lines and me reading everyone else’s, it took three hours. And that wasn’t even including set changes, or any stage directions. He begged me to say something to the director because there was no way he was able to memorize it all, or have the stamina to perform for that long every night. We went to rehearsal together, and took the director aside beforehand. I told the director what we did, and that there needed to be cuts for the sake of the cast’s sanity, because it was a long, melodramatic show. Being the impetuous jackass that he was, he said “it’s too late in the process, I would need to have the specifics.” I pulled out my script, handed it to him, and said, “Cuts are marked in green.” He took it and pretty much ignored it and continue to BS me about “I need to have something else to put onstage in its place” (no, you really don’t) and he started the rehearsal without us coming to a conclusion, but at least I tried. The show went on, nothing was changed, they managed to get it to run under three painful hours each night, and the cast and crew bonded over how much they hated the experience, and their self-obsessed director.
  • A questioner. Ask, ask, ask! Questions of the script, questions of yourselves, questions about the questions. If nobody has any questions, create some, and challenge people. Theatre is living and breathing; if you don’t question it, you won’t get any answers. And speaking of answers…
  • A respondent. Answering questions is important too, no matter how big or small. When I was working on Fiddler on the Roof, the actress playing Golde asked me to watch her as she lit the candles and sang the Sabbath Prayer in said scene, and tell her if she was doing anything wrong. It looked great, so I made sure to tell her just that. If it wasn’t, I would have been honest about that.
  • A supporter. The director’s not getting the actors to focus. The actress can’t remember her lines. The lighting designer keeps missing a cue. There’s a last minute casting change, medical emergency, or lack of money to fix something. It’s not necessarily the dramaturg’s job to be the fairy godmother and fix every damn thing, but just being a supportive presence can really make a difference, especially in a high-pressure environment where people often come off harsher than they mean to, or something just doesn’t fit quite right. One of my proudest moments was when I was both acting/dramaturging for a show, and one of the actresses was clearly frustrated about something, and taking it out on everyone around her. During a lapse in action, I took her outside, and just asked her what the hell was going on, because something was definitely amiss. She didn’t know what to say at first, but then I reminded her that we need her to make the show what it is, and we are all here for her, myself included. Then, it all came out in a flood of sobs; some personal stuff was going on, one of our cast mates was giving her a hard time, and her wig was extremely itchy. I had a pen and paper with me and wrote down the show-related things that we could try to fix, and slipped it to the director. Her attitude improved substantially – she got a new wig, and I think the problem with her and the other actor get resolved. Either way, she made sure to thank me before we went home for the evening.
  • A translator. Whether it’s between two different languages, or within a language (see: Shakespeare), translation is a necessary skill to have. If the actors have no clue what they’re talking about, neither will anyone else. And there’s the subject of cultural translation too. I’ve translated two scripts between languages (Hebrew-English, Slovak-English). Both are pretty shitty. But one day, I’ll go back to them, make some edits and cuts, and see how I can fill them out to the extent of the original – not just in words but in meaning.
  • An upside-down, inside-out…person. Look at all the angles from the space, back to front, top to bottom. Be a potential audience member who’s just excited to be here, not just an “in-house critic.” See more at “x-ray technician.”
  • A volunteer. Understaffed can be the name of the game in the theatre. In addition to being an extra pair of hands, I’ve been a ticket taker, a rehearsal room wrangler, a space booker, someone to run down the street to pick up last-minute light bulbs for two that burnt out just that afternoon. Most of these things are easy, and it can earn you extra points with the group as a whole, or someone who might not have liked you before.
  • writer. In many theatres, the dramaturg’s job is to write the program note. Sounds easy, but you don’t just want to write any program note. If given the chance to communicate with the audience via the program, you should take the time to make something that will keep the conversation going after the audience leaves the theatre. I’ve seen everything from maps to quizzes to word searches, and I make every opportunity count. Once, I was listening to a song on the car radio that had nothing to do with the show when inspiration struck me, and I wrote down something that really impressed the director despite it being about comparing Desiree Armfeldt to Lady Gaga. For The Great American Trailer Park Musical, I got to write a fake newsletter with in-jokes from the show; it was funny, and if you paid attention to what you were watching, it was even funnier.
  • An x-ray technician. Sometimes you need to look at the negatives. I’m not talking about something bad, I’m talking about what’s not there. Sure, the usual goal is to tighten the play, but if there’s something about the show that’s stuck inside and needs to be extracted. For example, I was dramaturging a play for the Baltimore Playwrights Festival. The protagonist was a mother dealing with her son, a soldier returned from Iraq in a severe state of trauma. Spoiler alert – the play ends with the stage going black, and it’s implied that the son killed himself. I watched it during dress rehearsal, and the last thing we heard was the mother screaming, and then the lights came up on her as she recited her final monologue. After one of the final dress rehearsals, I went up to the playwright and director, and said “you know…you just spent two hours building Rosie up as this strong, bold woman, and I couldn’t believe she just went out with a screech like that. I felt like I knew her, and that it was something she wouldn’t do. I actually lost all my respect for her at that moment.” There was a moment of silence, and the director and playwright looked at each other curiously. At the following night’s rehearsal, when that moment came, instead of screaming, we heard the mother pleading, “Just wait for me, son, mama’s coming…I’ll be there soon…just a little longer…mama’s coming…” Then, a moment of complete silence and darkness before the lights came up on Rosie’s final monologue. I was stunned almost to the point of tears…I felt like the character was Sisyphus, attempting his final push on the boulder before it rolled down the mountain and crushed him. Intense stuff.
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  • zebra. Because why be a human when you could be a zebra.

This is one of the longest and most insightful posts I’ve ever written.

God bless us, every one.