April 11, 2009

Holy Saturday. Returned from the theater last night in time to watch the full moon in a bank of clouds from the back alley, me leaning against the still warn headlights of my car. I felt separate from myself. I felt that a shell of ambition and resentment had hardened around a beautiful spirit I could no longer access except in moments of nostalgia. I asked the moon to allow me to remember the moment, and so I have, so maybe there is hope.

Performance last night was spotty–in places the best I’ve done, in other places forgetful and uncertain. The audience was hugely enthusiastic, and tried to bring us back for another curtain call, though we caught on too late and missed our moment of glory. Steve was calling frantically into the intercom, “Get back on stage!”