It's New Year's Day, obviously, and I guess I'm compelled to recognize this fact. I haven't been writing in either one of my blogs, or tweeting. I've come to the conclusion that if I'm writing in this space or on Action Bob Markle, or tweeting, I'm not writing plays. I know others have made arguments for being part of the social scene, but looking at people who I admire and tend to look upon as mentors, I follow their lead and tend to stay in the shadows, out of the limelight, and like peace and quiet in order to do my work. I've always been like this, and every time i go counter to this I get in trouble, or rather, my peace is disrupted.
Sue keeps telling me, write. Write your art and you'll make it. And I believet that, though maybe a definition for success is needed. That's a later post.
I'm not one to look back, I tend to try to live today, or look ahead, rather than wallow in the past. Experience. Learn. Move on. I suppose that's how I tend to live. But 2012 was a good year for me as a playwright, and I should acknowledge that.
December 12, 2012 marked my fourth-year anniversay as a playwright. I'm not going to go into the details. There here, if you're interested. I didn't make a big deal out of it, but it was a big deal. I'm happy where I stand in writing. I think I spent last year growing up as a playright, and just being confident with my onwn instincts. Two great successes--I guess that's what you can call them--were my time in Washington with The Inkwell, and my acceptance as an Accomplice with Interim Writers in Boston.
I continue to try to grow as a person, and my path as a musician is just as important to me as my path in playwriting. They are not exclusive, rather inclusive in a way I can't explain right now. I can see it, i just can't articulate it right now. As I explore all my current interests: music, indigenous American culture, nature, Greek mythology and tragedy, I can see my writing changing, too.
My anger and despair of the state of affairs in the world continue to fuel my anger in my writing. Yes, I am an angry playwright, and damn proud of it. The opening of the draft of a play I'm working on just popped into my head the other day. I'm on about the tenth draft, but I was never very happy with the opening. It eased the audience into the play, and I always want to hit the audience over the head with a two-by-four, to tell them to shut off their cell phones and pay attention. One simple word will completely change the direction of the play and the characters.
Ok, I've done my bit here. Last year we went to see Chris Knight at Club Passim, and during a lull in his show he stood on stage tuning his guitar, and in his wonderful laconic southern, hillbilly accent, the voice of my own people, he said, I guess this is the part where I tell you how much I love you and love being here. I think I've reached that point in this post.
Sue keeps telling me, write. Write your art and you'll make it. And I believet that, though maybe a definition for success is needed. That's a later post.
I'm not one to look back, I tend to try to live today, or look ahead, rather than wallow in the past. Experience. Learn. Move on. I suppose that's how I tend to live. But 2012 was a good year for me as a playwright, and I should acknowledge that.
December 12, 2012 marked my fourth-year anniversay as a playwright. I'm not going to go into the details. There here, if you're interested. I didn't make a big deal out of it, but it was a big deal. I'm happy where I stand in writing. I think I spent last year growing up as a playright, and just being confident with my onwn instincts. Two great successes--I guess that's what you can call them--were my time in Washington with The Inkwell, and my acceptance as an Accomplice with Interim Writers in Boston.
I continue to try to grow as a person, and my path as a musician is just as important to me as my path in playwriting. They are not exclusive, rather inclusive in a way I can't explain right now. I can see it, i just can't articulate it right now. As I explore all my current interests: music, indigenous American culture, nature, Greek mythology and tragedy, I can see my writing changing, too.
My anger and despair of the state of affairs in the world continue to fuel my anger in my writing. Yes, I am an angry playwright, and damn proud of it. The opening of the draft of a play I'm working on just popped into my head the other day. I'm on about the tenth draft, but I was never very happy with the opening. It eased the audience into the play, and I always want to hit the audience over the head with a two-by-four, to tell them to shut off their cell phones and pay attention. One simple word will completely change the direction of the play and the characters.
Ok, I've done my bit here. Last year we went to see Chris Knight at Club Passim, and during a lull in his show he stood on stage tuning his guitar, and in his wonderful laconic southern, hillbilly accent, the voice of my own people, he said, I guess this is the part where I tell you how much I love you and love being here. I think I've reached that point in this post.
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