Theater, poorly written
So. I have a great many things jumping around in my head and I just wanted to give them a chance to have some breathing room before 1: I go crazy and 2: I am able to focus and get some work done.
I've spent twelve hours each day for the past four days in the Kenan theater, in tech for the two plays I am light-designing. I'm a busy guy and I willingly spent four entire days to a single project that is extra-curricular and gives me no money. The experience I've gained is golden-don't get me wrong-and I really wouldn't trade some of the friendships and connections with people I've made for anything. But damn. I didn't get a chance to write an essay for a midterm or study for the in-class portions. Shit. It looks like I'll be up extremely late tonight doing that, and I'm already running on three hours of sleep from last night. I'm glad, still, that I took the time that I did for other projects and people, but now I experience the cost. I have no regrets, but yikes. Strangely enough I'm not even stressed. I've hit a point where there really is nothing to it but to do it, and so I shall. Homework, writing, reading a play, and studying tonight, bombing tests, continuing work on the play, more homework, reading another play, and seeing my sister tomorrow, and sleep tomorrow night and into Wednesday morning. I can do it. I'll get there. Time will march on like so many German soldiers.
I love theater. Really, in the last two days my efforts have helped create the vision the director had in his head, and it is beautiful. A Bright Room Called Day, produced by the LAB! theater group at UNC is excellent. I'm not just saying that because it's partially my baby. I like This is Our Youth (the other play I light-designed), but Bright Room is the stronger play and production, by far. It's really, really good. The schedule goes on drama.unc.edu really soon.
Along those same lines, I've really invested a lot of myself into this experience. Last night, I was calling for cues, groups, channels, and subs in my sleep. You know that half-awake, half-asleep state where dreams are real and reality is nonexistant? I was talking on headset to my light board op for anything and everything related to the show, trying to mix the green with the purple structure lighting to bounce right on the cyc, making a really ethereal silhouette effect. I couldn't get it out of my head and I couldn't stop.
Theater is a fantastic thing.
I spent four days watching and creating something that only physically exists for a couple of hours over a week, and it will not really effect anything in the universe. Really, it doesn't matter at all. "It's just theater," as my play analysis teacher says. However, in that very thing, we see it's power. Theater doesn't matter, but millions of people, every year, put hundreds to tens of thousands of hours into it. People put time, money, effort, and all the love and life they have to give into it. I'm one of them. It doesn't matter at all, but it's incredibly important. It matters so much and is so unimportant. It really, truly is.
Reading back over this and not really caring enough to edit it, my essay will be great, huh?
I've spent twelve hours each day for the past four days in the Kenan theater, in tech for the two plays I am light-designing. I'm a busy guy and I willingly spent four entire days to a single project that is extra-curricular and gives me no money. The experience I've gained is golden-don't get me wrong-and I really wouldn't trade some of the friendships and connections with people I've made for anything. But damn. I didn't get a chance to write an essay for a midterm or study for the in-class portions. Shit. It looks like I'll be up extremely late tonight doing that, and I'm already running on three hours of sleep from last night. I'm glad, still, that I took the time that I did for other projects and people, but now I experience the cost. I have no regrets, but yikes. Strangely enough I'm not even stressed. I've hit a point where there really is nothing to it but to do it, and so I shall. Homework, writing, reading a play, and studying tonight, bombing tests, continuing work on the play, more homework, reading another play, and seeing my sister tomorrow, and sleep tomorrow night and into Wednesday morning. I can do it. I'll get there. Time will march on like so many German soldiers.
I love theater. Really, in the last two days my efforts have helped create the vision the director had in his head, and it is beautiful. A Bright Room Called Day, produced by the LAB! theater group at UNC is excellent. I'm not just saying that because it's partially my baby. I like This is Our Youth (the other play I light-designed), but Bright Room is the stronger play and production, by far. It's really, really good. The schedule goes on drama.unc.edu really soon.
Along those same lines, I've really invested a lot of myself into this experience. Last night, I was calling for cues, groups, channels, and subs in my sleep. You know that half-awake, half-asleep state where dreams are real and reality is nonexistant? I was talking on headset to my light board op for anything and everything related to the show, trying to mix the green with the purple structure lighting to bounce right on the cyc, making a really ethereal silhouette effect. I couldn't get it out of my head and I couldn't stop.
Theater is a fantastic thing.
I spent four days watching and creating something that only physically exists for a couple of hours over a week, and it will not really effect anything in the universe. Really, it doesn't matter at all. "It's just theater," as my play analysis teacher says. However, in that very thing, we see it's power. Theater doesn't matter, but millions of people, every year, put hundreds to tens of thousands of hours into it. People put time, money, effort, and all the love and life they have to give into it. I'm one of them. It doesn't matter at all, but it's incredibly important. It matters so much and is so unimportant. It really, truly is.
Reading back over this and not really caring enough to edit it, my essay will be great, huh?