2001-07-28 1:04 p.m.
relief and warmth of heart

I'm unemployed again. No fault of my own, as usual. I got laid off, for the second time, by the same company, who I imagine are going to be going under themselves pretty soon.

as my friend says, la la la.

It should be a shock of some kind, but it really isn't. I feel fine, relieved almost that I don't have to worry about when the axe was going to fall.

life lately has been in that vein, this warm wash of relief, release of tension. Dan had another sexual escapade last night, and for the first time in a long time, I didn't feel hurt that he wasn't home to work in the morning. The need to work has relaxed a bit, and so have I. If I can make it for a while on freelance and minor work, I'm so happy to do that. I was at Barnes and Noble last night (ugh), and realized I was much more interested in stuff that I had at home to read than what I could've bought. Another good feeling.

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left turn:

I'm tired of talking about money...and comics. I'm also tired of writing about what I'm going to write about � proposals, pitches, etc. � when I could be actually writing. That's for this weekend, though...Dan and I hitting the keyboard and getting back on our game, working on some of our unfinished proposals, and then starting to script the first issues of a few books. Now that's an amazing feeling.

I'm also dying to get some prose down, when I have the energy. A man named Abrasive is knocking at the inside of my cranium, asking for some air.

left turn:

Rachel (the new roomie, for your scorecard) just invited me out with her to a friend of hers' party, supposedly full of writers/poets/etc...that could be amazing or it could be disturbing, but it's a gamble worth taking, as I feel like being sociable. ;)

right turn:

I'm going to go see some free theater this week...there's a few different productions of Shakespeare going on around NYC -- "The Tempest" in Tompkins Square Park, "A Midsummer Night's Dream" in Prospect Park, Theater for a New City's newest freakshow is going on all summer...though Midsummer grabs me the most, as it's done in commedia dell'arte form, which I haven't had a taste of since John Ammerman's peeps, the Commediante Georgiani, hit Emory from Athens, GA. People I know seem to think that masks are only for superheroes. Read the history, people.

There's also supposed to be an amazing production of Chekhov's "The Seagull" in Central Park (The Public Theater's Shakespeare in the Park), with Christopher Walken, of all people...

My body/mind keeps slapping me around every time I'm near theater...reminding me not to lose my connections to it. I almost picked up the 2000 Humana Festival collection, which I just perused in the bookstore instead. The few pieces I read reminded me of why theater/live music/radio drama are all so engaging � it's a surrender, a ritual in which you give yourself to what a troupe/author/musician whirls around you, dropping some degree of ego, becoming part of the collective experience for two hours. And if you know the play already, then it adds analytical gymnastic room for you as well (i.e. -- seeing different productions of the same play). A need for concentration, an unexpected connection, emotional stirrings that come out of nowhere.

I don't believe in seeing theater cold of heart. No point whatsoever to that.