Apr 27, 2011 17:30
Every night when the big clock strikes twelve, a day slips down from the calendar, and runs away to my workshop in the Land of Long Ago. I give him a touch of scarlet and a gleam of gold, and say, "Go back, little Yesterday, and be a memory in the world."
-Oliphant Down, in The Maker of Dreams.
Found a book of 24 one-acts I had bought but not read, last night, sat down and went through it at a sitting. Plays are so beautiful. They're so exposed, none of that tedious description to get you down, beyond a few functional and distant outlines of the staging. Cuz that's not important, it's the people, it's the words, what we say and to whom we say it. Nothing is spelled out, and it's wonderful. Plays are the ultimate medium for the imagination.
So excited to see Patton Oswalt tomorrow night, with Jason and Michael.
Been thinking a lot of my anniversary with Michael, coming up this June. Crazy stuff, I dunno what to get him.