February 13, 2008

Rainy, chill morning. Last night’s tech rehearsal of Edward was a little horrifying, but I’m going to suppose, for the moment, that it was meant to be, and that all will be well tonight.

My own position is a little awkward. I see things that are wrong, or which could be better, but which battles are worth fighting? And does the fact that I see them wrong make them wrong, or part of some larger harmony that would be marred if I interfered? I am one of those artists who is willing for my own vision to be compromised on some particular occasion if it means the realization of the visions of others, but when that is happening and when something is simply wrong is not so easy to tell. The article that appeared on us in Mountain Xpress was a little odd–and misquoted Mickey and me lavishly–but good enough, and will probably attract the curious to the theater door.

Note from MM, student in poetry class, who claims he is so enraptured by me that he had to miss class in order fully to contemplate my uniqueness. He hands in, for an exam, a piece of wood, a length of cardboard painted to look sort of like the back of an alligator, and a mixed CD of. . . I suppose. . . his favorite rap artists. Explanation of all that in this morning’s e-mail. Maybe it’s well that he missed the class he did, for it was John Donne, and it might have sent him over the edge.