I've got the lines coming. I'm close but not as close as I need to be. Almost everyone has clothes we're just missing a few big pieces that I'm sure will get done in the next week or so. However I'm now suffering from mental anguish (dramatic I know).
Not having the script in hand and actually having "real conversations" on stage is incredible. Everyone in this cast is so stupidly fucking talented that I'm sure if we made people sit through a rehearsal they wouldn't think they were getting a bum deal by watching a rehearsal. Seriously, I'm stressing about my lines and then you have Clyde who has his lines down AND plays the ukulele (spoiler alert!)
We have a freaking show!
While we have a freaking show I keep getting into my head and it's all character related. It's really strange to be playing a person that is real, and not just real, but someone who was still alive during my lifetime (not for long, but you know what I mean). I've played a character before that was based on an actual person, it was a bizarre and incredible experience to know that this womans family would be coming to see me portray their mother and grandmother (this took an even weirder turn when we opened the show and after what seemed like one of the most intense performances I was told that my character had died in real life as we took the stage....I know right.).
So I keep finding that I have like a million different things cropping up in my head:
I read this about Blanche and Buck, The scripts suggests it happened this way, The fuck is Scott telling me to do? My natural instincts are doing god knows what right now. Oh no, some out of my hands cosmic weirdness just showed up when I opened my mouth. Did I have a stroke? What are my lines, Was that another persons line? Wait shouldn't I be more downstage? Was that my cue? Ooooo,stuff to play with, stuff to try, dowdy recommendation, did I get pants for so and so yet? Dinner. Yes, I should have Dinner. Aw, hell I forgot about this scene. And on and on and on and on so that when I get done with the day my brain is like a giant oozy jell-o mold.
|Oh ya. That's a real thing and my stomach lurches every time I look at it's grinning fish face.|
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