December 6, 2008

Auditioned for Titus today, after pleading (and in fact being) sick last week. Doing a play is the furthest thing from my mind right now, yet one shows one’s face, that solidarity be preserved.

Sat at my desk and gushed out pages of The Falls of the Wyona, then went to the coffee shop and gushed out the opening of a new play, about the apparitions at Knock, notes for which I took two years ago in the place itself. Nothing could have been more welcome than this unlooked-for bounty on an unremarkable Saturday. The turbulence of the last months, and the crash of confidence that came from the debacle in Chicago, affected me deeper than reason was able to reach. I couldn’t convince myself to start writing again, but finally the mere turning of the wheels made it possible. I thought of myself as tougher than that, but if resilience stands in the place of toughness, then I am content.

Bought cut pink roses for the living room. They look idiotic, for some reason. Maybe an offense against the season.