Embracing my inner wordnerd

For those other fellow wordnerds - welcome! For those scratching your heads, I know nuzzing, I saw nuzzing!

So we survived four nights in Boston watching/taping the directing projects. Nights one and four I didn't have the monopod and so had to make do with my hands and trying not to shake the camera too much. Fortunately, I'm not editing anything - woohoo! Just download, upload, done.

And once more I bow down to my mother, to Ann, to anyone who's ever tried to film one of my shows. Good golly I move people about just a bit! Heavens! I did the worst cinematography on my own show - and I knew what to look for in that. Actually, I had some sadness about the reception of English (not about English itself, or how I directed it, or how the actors did - they were great!), but I had thought to myself something along these lines:

"Emily," I said to myself, "you are among fellow theatre geeks. Theatre geeks who read Grotowski for kicks and giggles. Theatre geeks who think madmen like Artaud are a nifty read for a rainy day - or a sunny day - except Artaud prefers the rain. Hence, Emily, you are among those who, as an audience, will likewise be quickwitted intellectually, who will immediately embrace absurdist theatre, and who will therefore Laugh Long and Loud at David Ives' wit.

"Emily," I said to myself, "you are among MA-earners, among Ph.D.-desirers, among the Intellectual Elite and the Financially Impoverished. To quote Eddie Izzard, you shall do well he-ah."

And then performance came. And the audience was...not really laughing. Oh, they were LISTENING. They were processing. But they weren't slapping their knees. They weren't guffawing like they did in other shows whenever "sex" or "white male oppressor" (blaugh - restrains self from ranting about the ridiculous of such an eponym!) was mentioned. I began to think I should have staged the whole thing a la the Three Stooges. I began to think perhaps the show wasn't funny. I began to think I'd failed the script, the actors, the WORLD, and my darling Will Shakespeare (just because he's always a commentator on my shoulder in all things theatrical). I should have gone for Apple Pie rather than a Jigsaw Confectionary.

So, I've decided that I Need To Go To England, If Only For Their Audiences. *bursting seams* *sigh*

Anywho, far too late and minutes to go before I sleep, and minutes to go before I sleep....

Mood: Scrunched
Music: Guess. Yeah. He's turned me into the fourteen year old I never was.
Thought: But "Hello" is just...just...yes.