In the Interest of Doing

Rather than thinking about doing, which is the equivalent of never doing, another in the continuing series that is this terrible, horrible, very bad blog. ;P

I got a callback for Twelfth Night but was very glad not to be cast. It was one of the best "rejections" (if it can be called that - I could tell when I walked in to call-backs and then got the sides for Maria - that this wasn't the show for me; a good show, just not for me) I ever received. Right up there with the rejection notice from some magazine or another that told me how great my story was but how not right it was for their magazine and here are some other magazines that would better fit my story. V. similar experience to that - and it stoked my directorial fires, watching those auditions.

Curiously, or rather not curiously enough, I suppose, I was called back to read for Maria - the maidservant. Not a bad role, but a "fat girl" role. That is, it can be given to a woman of any size. But I'm no good in "fat girl" roles. I can never play them right. It's frustrating. It's like how Kevin Kline is a character actor trapped in a lead actor's body. (Not to say I'm a lead actress - well, I have no idea, really) but that there is a tendency to presume that my shape fits the stereotypical shape of stereotypes. Sigh. But this is the thing: I realized that if/whenever I direct Twelfth Night again, I actually really really really want a woman of size to play Viola. It's actually easier to find a woman of size who can make herself look manly, "big guy"-ish - and it would totally explain why Orsino doesn't look at her and why Viola's all upset at Olivia being this perfect teensy character - and it would fit in with the whole idea of truth vs. appearances. "Disguise, I see thou art a wickedness!" So, if/whenever I direct the show again, I think I know what I'm doing this time!

Am this close to finishing writing Wallace's Will for the one-acts. I just need three more scenes - I can feel what they are - but I'm a little stuck on this third-ultimate (I wonder what the real word is?) scene - the one where Terence is switching characters all over the place. Boooo! I think I need a better set-up. Ah! Yes! If Felton didn't call all the women himself, but he got one and Mrs. Dowdle got another, and Ermengarde stalked him.... Yes. That would work. Sigh. It's like a puzzle, putting this together. If this, then that. Etc. But it's good. I think it will be good. Yes.

We've decided that come Hell or high water, we're going forward with Romeo & Juliet this summer. Mom and I checked out a place this morning, which was very encouraging. We're still looking, and we take turns encouraging each other to persevere (is it my week or yours to doubt this endeavour?), but I *can* see God's hand in this. Howsomever, that comes as well with a LOT of spiritual persecution for yours truly. Please, please, please - even if you're not a praying sort - pray for me. Amen!

I downloaded too many pieces of music last night, including "Keep Breathing" by Ingrid Michaelson which is currently on repeat. "All that I know is I'm breathing/All we can do is keep breathing." A good mantra sometimes! I also got Rufus Wainwright's cover of "Hallelujah" - faboooooooooooo. Le sigh.

Please keep Father Jonathan in prayers, too. He's going to be personal secretary to Cardinal Sean, which means that he'll be travelling the globe with him (wow!) but I can imagine - I know - how difficult all this in-betweenness is for him. It's the in-between that gets to us. The gaping void, the eyes closed as we step off the precipice and - that moment before and between here and there - that is difficult. He is being truly blessed, though. Please do pray for him.

I was a bit under the weather this past week. In part physically, in part precipitationally (as were we all!), certainly emotionally. Very strange week. Forgot to eat for most of Monday (my long day in Boston) which left me very faint and set off a silly next few days. Got a copy of Saved - this awful, awful, AWFUL, disgusting, down-trodding, hopeless, wretched, vomitous play that we have to read for directing class. And I have remembered why, largely, I don't like modern drama (or fiction). BLAUGH! It makes me feel nauseous. I feel, even before reading it, like I'm clutching onto the hem of Beauty's garment, with fraying fingertips, eyes half closed, half fixed on her compassionate face, while evilness and ugliness scrabble at my ankles, with claws like rats' maws and eyes deeper than nevermore. Oh, God! I just want loveliness and truth and beauty and goodness, openness, airiness, space to breathe, warm summer scent, Your Hand in mine, Your strength, Your arm beneath my arms keeping me aloft from the muck and mire of my mind! (Or what my mind becomes when such filth is introduced to it.) But praise God, praise God, praise God.

Oh, I have written a lot more nothing here! Birdie continues well. We conquered the most tricksy of all the songs and there am I happy. There is the possibility of another goodness in that same vicinity next year and there am I happy. We are doing R&J and there am I happy. There are friends at Emerson and good professors and there am I happy. There is beautiful music with haunting lyrics and there am I happy. I am writing a play and nearly done with it and there am I happy. Julie's art exhibit looks gorgeous and there is she (and I!) happy. Yesterday and today were a balmy 40 degrees and there are we all happy! And I'd forgotten how great the 1995 Pride and Prejudice is, and there is much rejoicing. So all is well and all shall be well and all manner of thing will be well - amen!

Mood: Well but clutching
Music: "Keep Breathing"
Thought: I keep coming up as Eleanor Dashwood in "Which Jane Austen Heroine Are You?" Hrm.