Friday, October 31, 2003

All Hallow's Eve. They say this is the night when the walls between worlds are their thinnest, and i can believe it--I feel thin and drawn out myself, almost transparent this morning. I know that I need more sleep, but I can't seem to get it--things have been happening with such intensity that I feel like I'm worn away in places. It's not an entirely unpleasant feeling--it's familiar to me, from other runs. It means the show is up.

Sorry to leave any of you hanging after the opening--that was bad form, but I was a wreck yesterday the next day. I was taken by surprise by the generosity of spirit of the friends, family, colleagues, artists and perfect strangers who came to the show Wednesday--what an avalanche! I was happy that I'd experienced the Off-Broadway opening so that I would have the skills needed to ride that enthusiasm properly, and keep the audience with often felt as if they wished to simply fly off the rails entirely and fling themselves up at the rafters. Crazy.

But lovely--as they say, these are the kind of problems to have. I had lunch with my sister yesterday at Wild Ginger, one of our favorite restaurants...JM used to work there, long ago, and I returning always reminds me of who we'd eat all our meals there on the sly, since we couldn't afford food that summer. Mary is going to run the New York Marathon--she flew to NYC last night, and her most earnest desire is to beat P. Diddy's time. I have no doubts that she will handly kick that mutherfucker's ass. Fo shizzle, mcnizzle.

Today I am judging a pumpkin carving contest over at Intiman, which I am excited about, as it means I will be assured of doing at least one Halloween-y thing today...we often screw up Halloween, because somehow it all turns into costume parties that I don't feel like dressing for because I wear costumes for work, and frat-boy dance parties I am now a little too old for. I am hoping to visit Annex Theater's event being held in an abandoned house, after...


You see, after the show tonight there's this lobby event where the audience can stay and Artistic Director Bartlett Sher talks with them about the show. I'm taking part as well, and I'm excited because the title


is, for some reason, the most evocative name to me. In fact, for weeks every time JM and I need to speak with Bart, we'd tell the other,

"I need to talk to Bart today."
"Oh? Do you need to have a CONVERSATION WITH BART?"
"Oh yes. I need a CONVERSATION WITH BART rather badly."
Then we giggle.

I keep imagining that the CONVERSATION will be like a live theatrical rendition of My Dinner With Andre, complete with a superlong table, across which Bart and I will trade quips and bon mots over a crisp, dry Merlot.

This is, however, unlikely. Instead there will probably be a lot of audience questions, we will sit in normal chairs and I'm quite looking forward to it--when you do a one-person show, you like talking to the audience after the show because if you don't you end up hanging out alone, reading a book, wondering how you could go from talking to 400 people to nobody in a twinkling. It's kind of creepy.

Also, Bart is really sharp, and in that respect it probably will be like My Dinner With Andre...and I hear there is wine and cheese and suchlike in the lobby afterward, so if anybody wants to do an impromptu staging, I'm sure we'll be up for it.