Tuesday, July 2, 2013

MFA Diaries: July 2

So it's only Tuesday and I'm fried. I've been in rehearsal for two great student readings, celebrated my one year anniversary with DragynAlly, I've stayed up all night writing new scenes for a Delta Blues Noir Musical, and seen Lee Moyer (my new favorite illustrator) talk about about the joys of bringing a show poster to life. And now as I think of it I should probably be calling potential actors for my next reading. It's a few weeks away but trust me it never really feels like that.

Did I mention it's only Tuesday. The week isn't over yet.

And so here I am...completely fried. Homework and Reading calls to me on one side and bed calls to me on the other. But do you know the weirdest thing? I love it all! When you hear people talk about the Hollins Summer Programs one of the the words that always gets repeated is "intense". And let me make no bones about it the Playwrights Lab is INTENSE. A day here is equivalent to a week anywhere else. You get a semester's worth of time in a full six weeks. I know that I'm running on fumes now but I know that it won't be more than a moment right after I hit the pillow that my brain will wake up and go, "You know that reading we have for class really sounds interesting." And I'll be up again tirelessy plowing through my work.

Because that's where the Playwright's Lab gets you. It's all intense work but the work is all of the fun stuff that you were going to be doing anyway. It's not a chore that I have to write a full length musical over the course of six weeks...it's a joy. and then you're working on scenes for another class and then you're reading some theatre history or a play for another and all you can think of is "this is the most excruciating fun I've ever had!"

One of my colleagues will say that taking classes at Hollins is like deciding which Island on Hawaii you'd rather visit. I't all going to be fun.

So yeah I'm bone tired and could hit the sack at eight and not wake up until it's time for class at nine in the morning... but I feel the call of my books lilting in my ear. My unfinished plays are saying calling me, begging to be worked on.

Maybe I'll stay up for one more minute.


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