Where's the gangsta ghost playwright when you need him?
Well kids, we're in week 2 of rehearsals for Fedra and it's kicking my quatch bottomed ass.
Don't get me wrong, I happy in fact, things are terrific. I've got a sweet suite in the Gold Coast over looking the city, a crew of amazing designers & technicians, a brilliant literary editor, the sweetest and toughest directress ever, and a cast of gladiators.
You ain't had a good day until you've watched these guys act for 6 hours, let me tell you.
Me on the other hand, well...it's tough. Well, it's a challenge. Digging ditches is tough. Shoveling shit is tuff. But being the playwright and in the leading role? Um, well...lets just say its hard to sleep at night.
I'm certainly not the first actor/writer to create a new production but there are times when I feel alone in the trenches. At the end of the day, the responsibility lies with me. You can have the prettiest costumes, jaw dropping set, wonderfilled soundscape and pitch perfect staging. But if the words aint right? Shid...
I'm sitting in my living room looking at Whitney Houston bravely spill her guts. It's fascinating, but I really should be working on this script. Shit. Fuck. shit. fucccckckkkkkk i don't wannnnnnaaaaaaa!
okay, now that I've silenced the 6yr old negative Nelly...maybe I can get my eyes back on the page. I've got a room of characters waiting for me to join the party.
looney tunes, that's me.
ciao for now kiddies.