Friday, March 05, 2010

Week 3: Friday
Tears ago.
A lot of tears, in fact.
The show makes me cry in a way that at times makes me question my usefulness in rehearsals: I cry because it touches my grief.
And my grief is still very raw... so perhaps this is not reliable.
I'm trying to find a way of expressing the certain detachment that is necessary to judge the effect of the script.
You need to be detached: but at the same time profoundly passionate.
The whole thing is a puzzle: one I feel just now too tired to even attempt to unravel.
Even though its only twenty to nine.
But then there are the drama on stage; and another, really very wonderful drama unfolding offstage.
And today i saw the whole show for the very first time: the production is moving in the right direction.
And the script, as far as I can tell, is absolutely fine.
I need to accept that for now my work is over.
And I can rest.

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Comments:
let your tears be the judge, I think. Yes, on one hand you need to be detached to write. My husband is always telling me my work is better when it's objective. But I often feel dissatisfied with it when I edit all the real feeling out of it to make room for humour or acceptability.
The actors are obviously interpreting your work in such a powerful and sensitive way that touches you and shows how much they respect and appreciate where you're coming from. They empathise with your tears (and I think they'd worry their acting is bad if you didn't cry every rehearsal, now!!) I hope they give you lots of TLC. I don't want to feel you are huddled up in a dark theatre being sad:(
And grief is a weird emotion. I think it's like a drawer full of wooden spoons. If you get a new wooden spoon you still prefer to use the old ones. Every fresh grief stirs up everything else you thought you'd finished grieving over. The newest grief has to become dark brown and burnt from usage before you get used to it and accept it along with the other older griefs. I don't know, it's late and I'm waffling on your blog again, though I think the last one got deleted by mistake. I was interfering with thoughts about old people not accepting things... I'll try again with this one. Sleep tight. Jenny xxx
 
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