Well, universe, I have finished the first draft of my play.
Which started as a screenplay. Which turned into a play. Which turned into a one-woman play. Which ended up with some lovely, puppets. Which ended up being about Alzheimer’s. And memory. And the power of love.
I love it. It still needs some (maybe a lot of) work, but the frame is there, the characters are real, and it means something to me, personally. I am drawn to rehearse it, perform it, eventually, to turn this play back into a weird little screenplay.
It is nice to finally have a result for my efforts. So often, as an actor, my time is given to marketing and mailings and auditions that produce no results whatsoever. Or, at least, none that I can see. Yet. And, let me tell you, seeing no results for your hard work is a tough thing to do day in and day out.
But this project, a year in the making, has finally produced something tangible. That I can grab hold of and defend and carry with me. That I can create and make real. That I can play with and mold and reshape and mess with. That I can share and give and restore my artistic self with. It’s a good thing.
A very good thing.
Versailles Gardens, Paradise Island, The Bahamas
