This morning, I wrote no more than a couple of hundred words of a new story, but it felt so good. There remain in me sentences I thought I'd lost long ago. Now, I just need to keep going, and brush up on my grammar (I know, I know--please, don't say anything.)
Tonight, we perform our only preview of IN THE MATTER OF J. ROBERT OPPENHEIMER, which opens tomorrow at The Shoe Box Theater, the home of Northwest Classical Theater Company, on Southeast 10th. I'm curious to see how this show is received. On the one hand, it's a dry piece, set entirely in a hearing room. On the other hand, it's timely--almost painfully relevant to the current political climate--and sneaks in a few sly punches. The demonstration--done with a bucket of ball bearings--of the collective power of the world's nuclear armaments is priceless.
I'm reading, in dribs and drabs, KING LEAR, DEAR THEO, short stories by Flannery O'Connor, poems by Stephen Dunne, and a book on the Alexander Technique. This means I'm watching less television and seeing fewer movies. But, it also means that I'm getting out of the house, less. Today is a full day, though. Pilates, Alexander Technique, Voice, more exercise, reading, and the performance tonight.
It's a small life, but... it's a life.