No artist is pleased. There is no satisfaction at anytime.
There is only a queer, divine dissatisfaction,
a blessed unrest keeps us marching and makes us more alive than others.
-- Martha Graham to Agnes De Mille
Was || Will Be || Past Moments || Now || Notes

2003-03-28 - 11:29 a.m.

Actor's nightmare

Last night I had the actor's nightmare again. As is typical with my actor's nightmares, it had nothing to do with forgetting lines. Usually, I dream about missing props or costumes, and have to go hunting for them, and never even make it to the stage. This time, though I did screw up on the costumes, I made it to the stage, and that's when everything fell apart.

In the dream, the audience was filled with a high school group. They were everywhere, and were either not paying attention, or were completely bored by the show. There were people holding up signs. One of them had taped a sign to his forehead that said "It's either this or the bathroom. You choose." (I have no idea what that means.) Somehow they'd managed to get a slide show of their pictures running on the side wall.

People were coming down out of the audience and coming across the stage. There was apparently some kind of raffle thing that had happened that day, because during one scene, two teachers set up a table onstage and started counting tickets. This is where the cast pretty much lost it. We rounded up all the people and put them back in the audience. I believe at one point, I threatened to collapse a wall on them if they didn't behave.

Finally they were all relatively settled and we started the show again. There's a scene where I'm supposed to be punched, and the guy who was doing the punching had a pen in his fist. I saw the point headed right for my eye.

And that's where the dream ended.

Weird freaking dream. I'm thinking my subconscious is a little more freaked out about tonight than I am.

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