Nine-Dollar-Penny

Creative satisfaction is... watching the ArtBeat performance video of Philip Glass at Benjamin’s house and finally seeing with my own eyes that not only did we not suck – we were good. We were on. There’s a musicality there that you can’t fully perceive while you’re performing it. Last night we saw comic movement and business that we weren’t able to see from onstage, things happening that made the "impossible" play possible. We both were saying how proud we were of this particular show and our work in it, and how this bizarre little 9-minute playlet joins the ranks of favorite theatre memories.

Communion is... sitting in the cool night air of his backyard reading clove-fragranced Ginsberg and Walt Whitman to each other, the taste of sweet ginger, planning a cricket release party. I’d stopped over for 10 minutes and stayed 4 hours.

I get a lump in my throat (like right now) knowing the vast physical distance that will be between me and this beloved friend when he moves, acknowledging the probability that we will never live in the same part of the world again. But true friendship walks above the plane of the physical, in a world where there are no miles, and no goodbyes. Some of my dearest friends live far and wide. He’ll join them in that place of the heart far above time and distance.

Much More Ado

It's a Go for Commonwealth Shakespeare tonight. A nice bunch of crazies are coming, and I'll be there from 5:30ish on; look for me and the Navajo blankets down front or call my cell. Hie thyself thither.

Glad we're going tonight because there's rain predicted for Friday and Saturday!