It's the Audience, Stupid

Yes, the audience.  That was one of the most satisfying aspects of Tuesdays with Morrie, we kept clearly in mind who we were doing this play for. That probably sounds silly, doesn't it.  Who else does one do a play for?  Let me explain. 

Sunset during a forest fire, as seen from the patio.

Priming the Pump: My Director's Notes

Friend Marta was here for a few days of writing, and it was the first chance we'd had in several months to catch up face-to-face.  Both of us had fairly eventful summers, so we had a lot to talk about.  I got closer to articulating some of the satisfactions of the job in Twisp, but much of it is still clogged in my brain.  My talking is only slightly better than my writing these days.  There are a number of reasons for this, I know, but at this point simple atrophy from disuse is probably the biggest culprit. 

(The Merc Playhouse on Glover St, Twisp, WA.)

Burren: The Close View

Here, as promised, are some of the closer details I caught during our walks on the Burren.  I learned the names of the unfamiliar flowers while I was there, but in the intervening two months I've forgotten most of them.  Help, as always, is much appreciated.