mired

I'm completely covered in stuff. Little itty bitty props. I have no idea how many. Thousands.

I've been practicing the magic for Old Growth. There's not *that* much, really, the dense parts are only in a few of the "Envirologues", and they last only a couple of minutes each. But it's so dense - and so messy.

That's the aesthetic we want: pollution. By the end of the show, the front of our circular ground cloth (the foundation and bulk of our "set") is completely covered in gum, coins, receipt-confetti, wee yellow sponge balls, and the remains of an exploded box. And almost all of it comes out of ME and my costume!

Whereas last year's The Fugue Code was about Alex-management (where to put the leg when and what-a-ta do with the voice and how to juggle 11 roles) and crazy enough, Old Growth is about pocket management. And fine motor skills. And a constant doublethink. This is what it looks like I'm doing, but this is what I'm doing.

Alison and I blocked out what the "Envirologue" magic should *look* like... and now, with the aid of the largest mirror I have ever been reflected in outside of Versailles, I'm workin' the deets. How to what the what, and when. Whither the gum, whence the coin.

It's a lot of work. But I promise sparkle, when we open in a week-and-a-day-from-tomorrow.

Tomorrow! It's our first preview, for a stately audience of four. Then Sunday is the second one, then Wednesday we tech...and Thursday we open. And, if memory serves me, the weight lifts basically instantly.

No. Not until I know I can set all the wee props in our 15-minute preshow setup!

'till soonish

Alex