hamlet in seven

collaborative explorations in physical theater

silence, unfinished.

i am contemplating the silence that is left.

more than the quiet after the storm,
it is the taste and texture of the emptiness,
of what is left after the whirlwind of physical sensations and emotions
that this creative process stirs up,
making what's already there, stored within the muscles made of flesh and brain and consciousness,
more apparent, more real, more immediate
overwhelming
for all to see and witness
and for -me- to, now, process.

more soon.

(the gorgeous pics are from the dress rehearsal @TAV, once again courtesy of gorgeous Ro [http://www.rhchen.com/-theaterphoto/]. thank you)

post-

it may take me a while to process yesterday and today
all I remember now is a lot of people, a lot of sweat, a lot of ash and grime, sticking to my body and emotions.
all I want to say, for now, is thank you
to all those who took part in this
those I know
those I don't know
those who directed me through it all
those who came and shared their presence in silence
those who came up and said hi despite the dirty perspiration.

thank you. you made this meaningful.

a dress rehearsal of sorts

Hamlet in Seven, in "show" form, opens in a few hours.
It's dirty and grimy and real and intense. And generous.
I, for a change (not!) am exhausted.
Just finished another long day of rehearsal, teching, setting everything up, first run of the whole show, then notes, then cleaning the mess of scattered ashes everywhere (but the diamonds shine through). 
Betwixt & between and underneath this overwhelming exhaustion, a feeling of elation,
and an immense sense of gratitude:
toward the process,
toward my loving, generous, challenging directors,
toward everyone here who's been helping out with every little detail,
and toward those who've given love and support in countless forms.
thank you.
thank you.