"Ain’t no one deserves rest."

It feels like awhile since I've written. Maybe it hasn't been in real-time, but in internet time, it's probably been years. In my defense, a lot has happened that I will now skim over to try to bring you up to speed. Why do I do this instead of either backdating posts and really going into depth or just speaking about what's going on right now.... I have no clue.

A review of my last several days: (set to music....um, I don't know, hit shuffle on your iTunes- that's the song that is intended to underscore here. Oooooh, how conceptual!)

- Met with a bunch of folks, including the brilliant Adrienne McKay (who also has an amazing laugh. If I could, I would hire her just to be in my audience. On the other hand, she might get bored and the absence of her laugh would probably feel like a massive gaping void in the play.... bad idea, moving on) about a variety of projects, including a dream devised work, (I can hear Davie White groaning from here...) contract-y stuff for Revenge, director-y stuff for Revenge, fundraising-y stuff for Revenge, and a random ten-minute play. Oh! And an old play that I'm totally reinvested to re-write now. (give a holler all you Callie-lovers! She's coming back!!)

- Speaking of hollers, or hollas if you will, got into a bit of a tiff over my use of the phrase "dear non-existent reader". Which I meant as a funny, slightly self-deprecating, but mostly a commentary on the world of blogs, but apparently has been interpreted by some of my loved ones as both self-destructive and insulting. This comes from at least one person who I didn't know even read my blog. In fact, I don't know if anyone reads my blog because I have zero comments. So, dear non-existent reader, prove me wrong.

-  Had another incredible meeting with my writer's group, The Foundry, where I got to present some of play. Presenting pages in a writer's group, for those of you who don't know, is a sweaty experience. At least for me. And it's filled with all sorts of neurotic quirks... So I'm never really thrilled to do it, even if it is one of my favorite things to do. Here's the point in our story where I'd really like to gush about what an awesome and supportive group I have, because they really made it easy. There were some very jangly bits in my play, but I felt so energized walking away. I felt really good and was able to just have a night where I was happy with things. So.... thank you.

- Got to hear a full version of the song for Bratshit Crazy... and it rocks.

- Got all of my rockstars for Bratshit Crazy.... and they rock.

- Found out I might not be able to go to Bratshit Crazy... and that doesn't rock.

And that's sort of it. Besides life (it's okay), work (hahaha.... don't ask me if you don't want to hear mean things.) Thanksgiving (gobble-gobble-gobble) and the family. (Awww man!)

-BGD

Second Meeting...

So guess what isn't good for writing a new play? Writing another new play. At least.... once again, not for me. So why is it then that the day after my brain maps out the play I'm working on for BRAT, a new one I've been struggling with the large concept for years bursts to life? Somewhere, I think my brain feels that I've solved the problem of the other one and wants a new challenge. Somewhere, I think my brain is trying to drive me mad with too many projects. And somewhere.... there's a pla-A-ce for uuuuuuussss! (Ignore what I did there.) No, somewhere I also think this is good and exciting. The point is, that it's maddening to have nothing you're excited about, to feel stuck and then to be over-whelmed. Why aren't there other feelings for writers?

And I can credit this to connecting a concept from one of the writer's who presented last night. She (d'oh, just gave it away to all the fellow group-members who aren't reading my blog) is exploring a wide concept in a play that I've always wanted to take a hack at in a very specific way, which is my way of saying I'm NOT stealing your concept. And a question my new friend (I have a new friend!) said to me as we were leaving the bar in regards to my messed up high school years: "Where's your play about that?" Which is something I've...quite frankly....never even considered.

But now I have to.

-BGD

First meeting

I work better in a class. Maybe it's the feeling that writing assignments don't have to be 'good' they just have to be 'finished' frees me. In fact, I know that's a part of it. But there is also an immediate investment I feel for my classmates. I become so engaged in helping them work, and in honoring their time with me, that I really push myself. Several times I have seen classmates writing safe things and holding back from looking like a creep or a freak or... who knows what. That's usually when I open up with something I know will be disturbing, something that usually disturbs me and I sweat profusely while I read it. I do that so everyone will be free to write anything that comes into their head. And the strange part is, it usually works.

And my classmates have given back to me in such rich ways: wonderful critiques, inspiring words and courageous work that really pushes me to strive for more. That's why I am so thrilled to have been selected for a new writer's group. As always, when I looked around the circle at our first meeting, I thought "Oh man, do I deserve to be here?" Everyone's story was of "real" artistic work with credentials or incredible potential to back it up.

And I was there too.

I know this feeling will pass. And I know great things will come from it. For right now, I'm just grateful to be involved.

-BGD