“Truth in the theatre as in life is eternally difficult just as easy is the everlasting lie” Eugene O’Neill.
Of course, we are trying to say something about ourselves and about the world we live in through these characters and when I say for me it is a purgation of the spirit – I really believe it. Sometimes we don’t even know what we are trying to say: for many reasons, we don’t want to become a soapbox or to hold up our themes and have them become some kind of polemic, but we want to hide the exposition, hide the themes, hide the plot so nobody knows where it’s going and yet at the end of the production you want the audience to stand up like they got it, like it came together, like they recognized its truth.
I didn’t get the grant I wanted and if I did it would mean I wouldn’t have had to teach as much so I wouldn’t have had to worry about the money I needed to keep things going, which, ultimately, means I won’t be able to write as much as I wanted. Money buys the time to have the space for silence. In that space you can focus and commit without interruption to the art. Now I can wallow in my grant grief and curse the sky or I can shift my perception on that narrative and find time to write anyway.
95: It is difficult to commit to writing. Admit it. Don’t wallow. Don’t see it as failure. Change your perception of the hurdle, instead of a pen use the voice memo function on your phone to record a monologue or duologue for the play you intend to write. 1st: Find silence. 2nd: Think on any part of the theme that’s swelling inside you. 3rd: Imagine an audience in front of you. 4th: Let Riff. 5th: Repeat your riff, improvize, spit, whisper, shout, be indignant, empathize, seek connection until you hear something that clicks. 6th: Don’t expect it to be word for word let it change every time. 7th: Press record and GO. 8th: After – don’t listen to it yet. It doesn’t need correction or critique. 9th: Accept that you have begun your work.