Saturday, August 13, 2005
When the days are starting to feel regular
Mellow day. Steve left yesterday. The show is where it should be – no more emergency checks 3 hours before the first day of an 8 show day. It feels as if the last day has been one great exhalation – the show is running well at last. I'm starting to think running BREATH[e] is setting some meditative state into me as a default. Not in a calm, everything is fine kind of way: but in a nothing will disturb me kind of way. Like if Bush decided to napalm the Fringe for whatever reason, and I walked out of the show into a firestorm, I'd be okay to zen my way through (side note: I'm not trying to imply any kind of theatrical criticism here).
The 2-week default home setting:
Odd what travel does to the mind – clears out a lot of cobwebs, yet blurs your sense of purpose, your goals that were shaped in that other place, the one you were in before now – yes, home, that's it, home. Is there a mid-range kind of memory, a memory that keeps you grounded in a place, that has a limit of two weeks before it starts to reset itself? There must be. Two weeks is a kind of minimum time for a vacation in which to actually shake off the mental baggage of the world behind you. But when you're away and it's work, there's a different kind of shift that happens: this work becomes the horizon of your experience of a place, and this place your new 'home'.
