February 16, 2015

I can see through my north-facing study window the grey-to midnight clouds that are meant to bring storm upon us in a few hours. Much warning– maybe nothing will come of it, but I hope something does, just to have a new color in daily life. White, I suppose.

Rehearsals are long and fascinating. Certain of us are hardly sociable at all, and sit against the wall thinking our thoughts. Others are quite sociable, quipping and alert. I think I’m probably right in the middle of those classes. It’s a relief to be among adults.  The last Montford foray nearly drove me nuts with cittero chattero and word games and out-loud readings of I-phone material backstage. There it is a sort of a contest.
   
All in the public arena goes well. Sleeping gigantically. Turning back from the lava flows just in time.