Back to 'Free Henry Goodbar, Telepath.' Yesterday, David put the finishing touches on the lighting design, we made decisions on the card and poster, and did some major schlepping (moving and tossing junk -- Peter Jones Gallery is all about 'the stuff' that accumulates in every nook and cranny).
Today and tomorrow, we are looking forward to intensive rehearsals. Now is when the process starts to get really good. The actors are nearly, 'off book,' Carla is pushing to make the piece very physical and intense. David and Carla have set up a environment of beauty and color. The play is about dreams, and we now have a surreal dreamscape in which to work. Once we are on the train, there is no turning back.
I had a series of dreams last night. I was visited by strange little beings from 'Ireland' --- they were black, penguin-like -- wise, odd-looking, supremely enlightened. They greeted me as an equal: one of them licked my arm (a normal greeting). I could feel an alien energy, almost like an electric current, coursing through me. It was a feeling of magic, of transcendance. 'The lick' was a gift from this being to me, somehow, I had become wise too.