November 11, 2017

The Fs appeared from Atlanta, and after the show we ate at the pizza place on Depot Street, catching up. I was disenchanted with them after The Birth of Color, so it was good to get back into a place of friendship and conviviality. Much news of people I barely know, which, then, becomes a kind of fiction. I’m beginning to anticipate the quirks of my actors, what mistakes they’re likely to make and how they’re likely to get out of them. J just sits until someone else picks up the scene. M turns the phrase around out loud until she gets it right, like a person in a conversation figuring out exactly what she wants to say. Y just bulls through. The last two are acceptable. Brilliant winter weather.