I saw my dark and scary play on Saturday, accompanied by the good Stacey Ballmes, a friend from U of I who still lives in Champaign and drove all the way up to see it, then slept on my couch. It was great to have a guest's perspective on my neighborhood, Lincoln Square. She pointed out the abundance of high quality babies that are constantly being strolled and carried around the place. One of them was reading some of Barbara Ehrenreich's passionate writings on the growing inequities among America's middle class, so that was clearly a sharp witted baby. I have to say I'm proud to live in proximity to so many high quality infants. We just may have a future after all.
My play is good, better than the last time I saw it, which is saying something. CraigRosenPHD did a fine job with it, but I've got to say that writing a short play and handing it over to someone else is methadone to the heroin of directing my own full length work, or at least being heavily involved in its production. I don't just want a maintenance high, I want a high. The big project, Activision is er, still bogged down in negotiations. Having a full length play and not being able to produce it is frustrating but it also kind of makes me feel like a literary superstar since literary superstars are always talking about various things that they can't get done. So paradoxical but cool in a way.
The big, crazy dream of the moment is putting on a play in my apartment. (We've had some cutbacks in the Chicago field office of "Big, Crazy Dream" Inc. please bear with us) It started out as a joke or rather series of jokes between my roommate and myself, this week I actually started writing in earnest, so we'll see where that goes.