We Had a Good Thing Going, Going....Gone

So another one bites the dust, and I am very depressed and don't know how to deal with it. Such is life.

I don't know why it continues to shock me how sad I am when a show comes to a close, but I always feel unprepared for the booooo feeling that follows. I don't quite know what to do with myself, and I'm not good at feeling good about myself without a show. I've been watching a lot of cartoons in bed, I'm not going to lie. I also have developed a habit of getting sick immediately after shows, which worries me, as I've long advertised myself as someone with the hearty constitution of an ox, or similarly sturdy critter, who I resemble not only physically, but also in stubbornness and a lack of manual dexterity.

(No, that's not me, but I'm flattered you think it is!)

So I'm sick and sad. And I don't think there's any remedy for it other than time and maybe getting into another project that I feel excited about, and there are two that I am waiting to hear from, and one that I won't know for a bit, but I should maybe give up on the other one. But at some point, some project will come into my life and then it will break my heart too!

THIS IS WHAT MUFASA WAS TALKING ABOUT.

Here's some of the Tout Comme Elle reviews. They were, on the whole pretty good to great:

http://www.nowtoronto.com/daily/stage/story.cfm?content=181310
http://www.theglobeandmail.com/news/arts/theatre/a-mother-and-daughter-reunion/article2062386/
http://www.torontosun.com/2011/06/15/the-mother-of-all-mother-plays
http://www.thestar.com/entertainment/article/1009733--review-tout-comme-elle-explores-mother-daughter-relationships

And here's one that mentions me, which is, of course, the worst review. Not very well written, and I don't think the reviewer understood the show. So of course, she thought I was pretty good! My popularity amongst the confused (as well as the criminally insane) remains a pillar upon which to base my self esteem:
http://torontoist.com/2011/06/luminato_presents_a_mother_of_a_show.php

While I idly look for a job and other reasons to live, I'm doing this:



Hm, it kind of looks like some bizarre form of art therapy, in which there's lots of crafts and hugging. While that is something I should likely look into to curb my many issues of instability and night terrors (I really shouldn't joke about night terrors, but I think they're hilarious, ever since an episode of The Simpsons where Homer keeps falling asleep and then yelling, 'Aaah! Cobras!'. And it's a bad episode, Season 13 or so, where the plots make no sense and the animation is on the computer so it doesn't have any heart, but man, that Cobras thing is so funny it redeems the whole shebang, and make night terrors forever hilarious. But I apologize to the one person who reads this, in case you suffer from night terrors and my insensitivity causes you to suffer more. I'm sorry.) (I'm not sorry.), this is actually a play.

And if you believe the punctuation in that last paragraph, you will believe anything!

I'm doing the Toronto Fringe again, and this play is called Swoon!



These photos are all by the director/creator of the piece, Jason Maghanoy. As you can see, I am continuing my tradition of only being cast in shows where everyone else is a model. Another pillar upon which to base my self esteem.

We've been rehearsing this for a bit, but it's going to pick up steam now. We did the first stumble through last night, and so now it becomes about shaping the material we have, putting together a show instead of a collection of stuff, rather than generating the material and exploring like we've been doing up til now. More rehearsals, the pressure feels like it's there, but it's always kind of amazing, at this crisis point of a production, how much can be done and how much things can change and that anything really is possible if we care about what we're doing and we want to make something we can be proud of. I like this part of the process. I like doing the whole show. And finding out what kind of animal it is.

Maybe an ox!


Named Ferdinand. (Ok, Ferdinand was a bull, but I just looked it up, and they're the same animal, except an ox has been castrated, and a bull has not. So Ferdinand had a few reasons to smile and be the sweetest bull that ever was. Two reasons, in fact. LEARNING!)