March 20, 2015

After dreamless nights I woke to a complicated and beautiful dream in which a company and I explored measureless, light-and-water-filled caverns. There were magic talking fish and magic gems and exits from the caverns into important places in my past. The ones I remember are a glamorized Hiram and the bridge that takes one from Kentucky into downtown Cincinnati.

Good Thursday performance, although there was a photo session afterward, which is always hateful. This one was less hateful than most. I don’t remember another time since college, when I thought I had made friends of an entire cast.

I don’t really like The Theater that much. I like being on stage performing, being in the audience watching, being in my room writing new plays, but all the other trappings are for me a land of gray. I have never just “hung out” at a theater to savor its reverberations. I am not much interested in theater gossip, local or New York. I have theater anecdotes, but I never think of them when the conversation is rolling. I do not arrive early nor linger late. I am an exceptionally good actor without deserving to be, having put so little effort (except the intellectual kind) into it. E-mails are going back and forth about The Mermaid, and while I appreciate that, I would wonder, were I anyone but the playwright,”what’s the fuss?”

Spring. Whatever the weather I will be out in the garden.