I binge-watched the entirety of American Horror Story season three this week. It seems weirdly appropriate that today’s Crane seems like it’s on fire.
Date: December 11, 2014
Days Spent on Project: 661
Location: NW Portland, OR
Person I would have sent it to: Adrian B.
When I was working at the Public Theater, for the first time, assisting Katherine on Timon of Athens, we had a very minuscule budget to work with for a production with a handful of actors and dozens of costumes. We pulled and pulled from as many sources as we could find. We bought, sometimes cheaply and sometimes not so cheaply. We tried to make it all work.
The costume shop at the Public is amazingly small for the amount of work they have to produce in their theatrical season (the shop I run now might fit three of those spaces in it, for clarification, and we have the same amount of full time staff!) In addition to Luke (the Costume Director?), Michael (the Shop Manager), and Andrea (the resident assistant?), there were, I believe, two (full-time-ish) employees in that space. Adrian was one of them.
She works as a stitcher, altering clothes and tackling the notes that would come out of fittings. She was perched at the middle table in the room, always working on something.
She hailed from North Carolina, if I remember correctly, settling in Queens, and had the faint traces of a slight Southern accent when she spoke. She always was incredibly put together stylishly, in a way that didn’t scream effort, nor did it read expensive. She was just stylish.
I’ll always remember her posting on Facebook that someone (Bill Cunningham) took her picture on the street. She was wearing a very flow-y white summer dress walking around the area near the Public.
And that’s kinda the magic of New York. Something like that can happen.
Music I listened to while sewing: Since I was on an American Horror Story bender this week, I was listening to Stevie Nicks and Fleetwood Mac.
Thoughts/Feelings behind the block: Didn’t sleep well last night. Was up until 1am, thinking in bed, with my French Bulldog hoarding the pillows. The Dog passed out as soon as we got home from work around 6:30pm, forgetting to eat his dinner, and only waking up to take a two minute walk at 10pm.
I was a little ravenous for food last night, only because I forgot to get to the grocery and only had things to pick at for dinner.
I’m nervous. And a little bored.
I’m also at the point in any theater process where I doubt anything I’ve done or chosen. So that doesn’t help.
Can’t wait for the weekend.