Well, my dear readers (if we have any, and, if we do, I thank you from the bottom of my craven heart . . . )
Metamorphosis ended and many things, as always, were learned. It seemed to be critically acclaimed and it was lovely working in a primetime capacity. Now, I do wish audiences wouldn't be such persnikety procrastinators. This is coming from someone from the inside to those on the outside - know that your presence is needed the first couple of weeks, more so than the final. We had small houses, for a while, and it gets a spirit down - and I'm just speaking for myself. There were performances that were absolutely exquisite, seen by only a handful - which is very special for the handful, but do know that your presence is required at the beginning . . . plus you won't have to battle the throngs at the end.
People calling for free tickets. Arrrgghhh. Who do they thing they are anyway? And if they are that person, don't you think they could scrounge together the bucks to come see a just starting theatre company? If they're such rock stars, 15 bucks would be a cakewalk to their likes. But, a friend did say, if they're asking for free tickets, just give it to them, you never who they might be. Sage advice. But it still curdles my soul and I'm sucking on the whey. Unless your family, those who have helped make the show what it is, or the dearest friends of the dear, my deep dark soul says "Sucks to your ass-mar!", but I will smile and hand you your free program and show. And shoo you from an actor's entrance, but that's another story.
Many things were learned this time around. Mulch and I wrote them down on a piece of paper . . . let me search diligently for it . . . and it appears that I can't find it, but I'll see if I can recall:
Don't look back. Thanks, Bob. Dylan, that is.
Actors, essentially, are in it for a gig. One mustn't be sad, when one doesn't hear from them again.
Professors are not sages. They're merely people who aren't actively doing it and would like to spit your way for doing it.
Offer the damned people comps.
Mulch and Crow can, and will continue, to work professionally together, letting their passion fall by the wayside, gosh darn it.
And, we're making it as we go along, and we mustn't ever forget that.
There was more, I'm certain, but for now, this is what I will submit. Perchance I will be rid of it someday when guilt swipes me over, but these are my blogged statements. Again, greyzelda has nothing to do with this, tis just the winged lady crow.
Caw,
crowgirl
