Block 907: January 17, 2016


I’m not sure I ever really thought or believed I would get this far.

Date: January 17, 2016

Crane: 907

Days Spent on Project: 1061

Location: NW Portland, OR

Person I would have sent it to: TBD

Music I listened to while sewing: I am currently sitting on my couch, in my apartment, and rocking out to some Spotify.

Thoughts/Feelings behind the block: Why does it feel like the Earth shifted on its axis in the past 24 hours?

We did get through teching the show yesterday afternoon… a good two hours before the first audience would sit down for the first preview of this production. It was cutting it close.

I went home.

And maybe that was the mistake I made? In an hour and a half, I walked my dog, fed him, watched 20 minutes of Netflix, took a nap, went to Trader Joe’s for a quick grocery trip, and drank a very large glass of wine.

Maybe that wine was the problem? I walked back to the theater, leaving myself 15 minutes to get my ticket and sit in the back row of the balcony. And then the show happened.

And then the show ended.

And then the entire production team sat down for a quick notes session after the show with the director. It lasted until 11:30pm. I walked out of the building, a little frustrated and upset with the evening. All that work for that? I know a lot of notes were given because of misplaced anxiety, but… this all just seems a bit much.

As I stood on the street corner outside the theater, not really wanting to walk home but not wanting to do anything or be anywhere, the sound designer stopped her car. She offered me a ride home, even though I live 10 blocks away.

I have to say, the more I work here, each day that passes, each production that starts and opens and closes, each team I witness, I’m growing more aware that I’m a member of this regional theater. I’m no longer the new kid on the production staff. I have a history with my fellow theater artists. We all work together, whatever that means.

Which is interesting. Which is exciting. Which is comforting. Which is scary.

Which is confusing.

I don’t know what I think of the work we do.

I don’t know what specific opinion I have of it.

But, I don’t know if the opinion that I keep close to my chest is fair or right or harsh or easy or judgmental or informed or unintelligent. I don’t know if I’m too tired (all signs point to yes) or bored (possibly) or jealous that people don’t recognize me as a designer here (yes).

It’s hard to sit in an audience and see missed potential. It’s hard to sit in an audience and see notes to be done on costumes and ignore them because the person designing doesn’t think they matter. It’s hard to feel like you have to sacrifice your ideas because people see you in an unartistic staff position or they think your ideas are jokes or coming from left field.

It’s hard.

I don’t know.

I enjoyed the 10 minute drive home last night, as I needed the safety of a car ride and a sympathetic ear to vent my feelings. It was nice to hear someone else agree that I wasn’t too crazy or too critical.

Somewhere in the past 24 hours, from a quickly drunk large glass of wine with half a sandwich and tonight’s dinner of microwave cooked pasta (meh), I feel confused.

I’m a part of this working family. I am a part of that theater.

I wish I were more excited by the work we do. I wish we pushed ourselves in different ways- not necessarily towards working harder and exhaustion but working towards new ideas and braver choices.

I wish people saw me as someone who actually wanted to help improve the product and output.

I don’t know what to feel.

Okay, I’m going to take a shower and head back to work: time for Preview Number 2.

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