September 8, 2019

The reading of The Loves of Mr Lincoln last night at the Block off Biltmore was a larger success than even a greedy heart like mine imagined. Stopped at Daphne’s for vodka and salad, fortifying myself for whatever might come. But, what came was a full, enthusiastic house and a reading that did the work justice. I knew some of the audience, but it was by no means “the usual crowd.” High praise from all sides– though, as ever, one assumes the people who hated it wouldn’t draw you aside to tell you so. There are some playwright-y touches that it’s probably too late to excise. But, all in all, huzzah!

Elijah didn’t show up for the performance. I knew when we were reading a couple Sundays ago that he would not. The vibe came off him like radioactivity. John was a fully ample stand-in.

What with the reading at Malaprop’s Thursday and Earthly Power back downtown Saturday, it looks like my week. Not to mention that “16th and Curtis” opened in Tacoma Thursday night.

Maud lies on the floor at my feet. She is dreaming. It looks like a happy dream. The amazing thought that my little cat’s psychic life is as closed to me as the moons of Jupiter.