The sporadic ramblings of Emily C. A. Snyder - devoted to God, theatre, writing, and much randominity.

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Location: New York, New York, United States

Artistic Director and Co-Founder of TURN TO FLESH PRODUCTIONS. | Author of "Nachtstürm Castle," "Niamh and the Hermit." | Playwright: "Cupid and Psyche," "Math for Actors." | Classical director and educator.

Wednesday, June 25, 2008

Old Gems

Found this when looking for the first time in nearly five (!) years at my earliest entries here:

Neat Quote to be Put into a Screenplay Sometime: Julie: How horrible would it be if I were to fall over while standing up? Emily: Well, it depends. Is there a man nearby?

Oh, we crack us up! Jules is safely away to the airport (hence I am awake). The sunrise was languid and lovely. The morning fog was caught between the trees and the streets and pouring over the grasses. It was all quite beautiful. Even dear old dopey Boston was beautiful w/ almost no traffic, the early morning sun shining on the hightower windows. I have great hopes for this upcoming semester.

We worked the death scenes a bit - walking through, laughing over Sean Connery, figuring out how floppsy a dead body ought to be or not when you're trying to lift them up - all in all good times. R&J is surprisingly weaseling its way into my heart and has a real shot - I think - at giving Hamlet a run for its money. Have I mentioned lately how much I love Shakespeare and how much I love theatre?

Yeah, so it hit me the a few days ago that I was going to be directing Our Town very soon. Quoi the Quebecquais? Also, my hand hurts in the cast and I say "Boooo, BOOOO!" to it. Boo. Those two thoughts have nothing whatsoever to do w/ each other. Nor does that last sentence. But the third sentence on is all connected. Tangentally, I wish my rambling had the added benefit of making me sleepy b/c theriouthly.

Mood: Happy and optimistic about the day and the play - frustrated at insomnia and restless right flipper hand.
Music: NOT the R&J soundtrack, only b/c I will totally keep playing the play in my head and then I'll NEVER sleep
Thought: Not sure I have another. Other than a wish for greater sanctity and a desire to know what His plans w/ me are. But the former is low-going, and the latter is not in His plan so, b/c of the striving for the first is a moot desire.
Oh, and this song/video: Makes me want to write a play. Not sure about what - but a dark Gothic romance - mostly just for those costumes.



Maybe...the Fates/Norns/Choose-your-mythology are still alive and active in Victorian/Dickensian England, but the youngest of the Fates is sent to cut the lifestring of this one guy and falls in love and doesn't do it and then.... Oh, yes, I know, very Pratchett's Soul Music, very Brunhilda, and a thousand generic versions of the same. But as a one-act Gothic operetta? Huh? Huh?

Yeah...what if he's a - well, musician seems obvious, so I almost don't want to go there - but he must already be tapped into an immortality or at least have SOMETHING mythical or extraordinary about him to make a millenia-young Fate/Norn/Thing consider sparing him.... Does he have something over her? Has she been sparing him all these milennia (or howsomever one spells it)? Boooo...at this rate I'll never sleep again!

What would make Fate not kill someone at his appointed time? Love, as an idea and as a Person, clearly. Also Will, to a certain extent. Is Fate Fated - or is that the whole thing: that Will trumps Fate (to a - significant - degree)? Is it, perhaps, a two-person operetta - Fate coming for this guy - in a world where man is viewed as machine - but he tries to talk his way out of it? Twenty-minute seduction/plea/debate/discussion/plot...w/o being dry, though...or too "As I walk Through the Strawberry Fields of My Father" Swedishesque....

Schlafen, Emily! Schlafen! Jezst! you are no good to anyone tonight, if you fall asleep or fall into worn out hysterics, or stare off into space writing a new play when you already have one to direct! Schlafen! Schnell! Schnell!

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