Three of the eight hours in rehearsal today were spent in handcuffs getting yanked around. I’ve a beaut of a bruise in full color already, and tender muscle surrounding, which means more is yet to come.
…I’m generally pretty proud about my theater wounds. (Except that time I broke a finger doing “Noises Off.”)
…It’s like any battle scar, showing that you were here on this day, at this time, and did a thing. I mean REALLY did it. These are not “accident” happenings, they are well earned trophies, from hours of working and re-working bits, putting everything you’ve got into them…like sore muscles and body aches are the repercussion for a good workout the night before.
…(Which I’ve got too, btw.)
If I didn’t have to carb up so much to get through the show, I’d prob’ly lose ten more pounds before opening, in sweat loss alone. Gallons of hot water and tea back stage, and today’s working of what we like to refer to as the “handcuff ballet” sections, ramped that all up well before noon even. Ten A.M. call for voice-over work, then ballet call, then line run, lunch, then full run and notes.
…Meanwhile, major set pieces have finally started to show up, and we wrangled our way through, out, and around all the remaining incidentals.
Two more runs before tech. Wherein all hell will break loose as costumes, wigs, 70 sound cues, plus lights, will explode this all into overdrive.
Two more runs where it is just about the core “Us’s.”
It’s a good team. We play well, work well, improv well, and manage to turn 90% of the mistakes, accidents, and open season opportunities into full fledged added bits, winks and major features further profiting the production as a whole.
…Because we ain’t afraid to look like idiots.
You’d be surprised how often that turns out well for you, on stage.
…Anyway, totally exhausted. Came home to a sauna-hot shower, out with the girls for a bit of a Rum-fest at a tiki cabana place, and am home now…legs and feet aching, cuz of eight hours in heels, and plenty of constant physical everything.
Time to wash m’face again, and set in for some write-time on my weekly prompt, I think. Until sleep slaps me in the face, and I wake up and start all over again, tomorrow.
Night, friends.
~D
