I feel like a sherbet lemon. I’ve been sucking away at the sour sweet candy of free time and unemployment when, poof, the zingy sherbet pops out through a little hole and fizzes everywhere. I feel fizzy. It’s that confused anxious/excited feeling I talk about in Feeling – am I really excited at the prospect of a small gig as a production assistant for a one night musical, or really really scared? I’m excited, of course, and the adrenaline and anticipation has got me all over the place. I have about half an hour before I have to go and meet the production coordinator for what may or may not be an interview. There’s a show on at the end of the week and they need someone to help out a little. Not a permanent paid job but a good chance to network. So sitting down and writing about it is stopping me be all dithery.

I’ve already fretted about what clothes to wear. We’re pretty casual out here in production land; although I’d never dream of wearing flip-flops to any production work for safety reasons. It’s currently 92º F outside (33º C in English) so surely it’s not unreasonable to wear my 3/4 length linen trousers. They’re black. Black’s productioney… but a tank top, or t-shirt? The professional in me is screaming “NO!” I don’t have a vast array of ‘nice’ shirts out here, and none are particularly practical…ugh! Then I remembered this blouse, loose, smart/casual, shows some personality. That’ll do.

Photo on 7-25-16 at 2.13 PM #2

So I went. Didn’t end up seeing the lady I was supposed to see as she was tied up at rehearsal but spoke to a co-producer and it seems they’d like me to be involved. Production assistant, general dogsbody, but I’m pleased. Anything to be in a theatre.

I recently applied for a job as an events coordinator. They wanted the cover letter to state why I have a passion for events. How do you put that into words? How the silence of a stage just before or after a show makes your skin tingle. The building, having hummed with energy for a few hours, hunkers back down drunk on adrenaline. Being that mystery person in black to helps the show to run but never steps into the limelight. Breeding the initial conception of an idea or desire, to work it through, witness it’s happened and then pack it all away. I tried. I told them it’s what I live for.

In a months time I’ll be back in LA after a trip home, very likely freaking out about the need for income but I really want to dig my heels in. If I can write my poems, stage manager or do some event related work and potentially spend time with some cats I’ll be very happy. Can I make a living from it? That remains to be seen but I don’t want to just make do anymore. Here I am, slowing down, making a stand, raising my hand and saying “This is what I can do, please, someone, give me the chance to do it!”

With that said, here’s today’s poetic offering. This is a free-written piece. I’m currently reworking a poem called ‘Theatrical’ in which I attempt to compare theatrical elements to a relationship. I’d put it into my ‘needs work’ folder as there are some good ideas, although some of the metaphors are a little mixed and parts aren’t very strong. I’m still working on that rewrite; and in doing so – with the resent events in mind – I ended up free writing this…



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