Unfortunately for me, the folks doing the allergy forecast were dead on. Pollen seems particularly high today, and I was sleeping under a window with a light breeze blowing all kinds of stuff my way. I am still suffering, though I guess I'll make it through the day. I'm sure all the sanding I'm doing today will not make it any better, though I do have a mask (and earbuds and safety goggles). Anyway, I have just over an hour before I start sanding. I'm still really sore from yesterday.
I actually have slightly mixed feelings that The Pitch was selected for SFYS, but not enough to not go. I may still raise the issue about doing the entire piece at Toronto Cold Reads, but it will probably just vanish into the mists of time. In any case, I will make it to The Storefront Theatre tomorrow night, starting at 8. Hope to see some of you there (955 Bloor St. W., just west of the Ossington stop).
This will certainly throw a kink in the plans, but perhaps it just means that we try to stain all the spindles today* and see how they dry, and then get started on the main deck Tuesday afternoon. I'll want to check on the updated weather forecast midweek anyway.
Edit (6/14): Back from Sing-for-your-supper. It was another entertaining evening. We started with an emotional moment reflecting on Orlando saying that love (and community) will always triumph over hatred. I was a little disappointed that a couple of people from work didn't make it after all, but I thought that the actors did a good job with my script, making it even funnier in places. I did think they rushed one or two of the laugh lines about starving artists, but that's ok. I liked how the main guy captured the right tone of desperation under the bravado. We chatted during the intermission and I gave him my card. He suggested that the whole thing could be written out and put up at Red Sandcastle. It's sort of tempting, but I just don't know what I would pair it with, since I don't think I would want to extend it much beyond the second scene. I had initially seen it as two younger associates, but the actor assigned the part of Sam 2 was much older and played him as a somewhat cranky almost Bartlesby-type with a German accent. It worked, though it wasn't what I had in mind. In some sense, this is what is so special about theatre: it is collaborative in some sense and if an author is open to additional ideas it can end up being much more interesting than one person can come up with. I think this is particularly true of comedy where one can really keep stretching the boundaries. It is also a reminder that words on a page can be interpreted so many ways.
* The sanding is not going as well as hoped and I actually will have to scrape up the paint with a putty knife and then sand. This is really back-breaking, and it will probably add two more days of labor, so we might not be done by Canada Day after all, but I guess I shouldn't lose hope just yet.
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