I had a dream during my nap this afternoon that Chrissy and Teresa came to visit me at work and started setting stuff on fire. I was so fricken pissed at them, but then Chrissy talked her way into getting a job there, so I was happy again. Weird.
We've been discussing dreams a lot lately at Sierra Bonita, largely because none of us would have dreamt we would be where we are right now just one year ago. Driving around Melrose last night with Spice Girls blasting, I was reminded that living with these girls has been a dream since 5th grade. I'm happy that, just like the lyrics to "2 Become 1," I haven't forgotten my intention to surround myself with people I love and work that stimulates me. I'm livin the dream (and yes, I am a big cheesy dork).
I just got home from another incredible rehearsal for my latest show - a Viewpoints workshop devised piece about Pandora's Box. We rehearse on the rooftop of a big parking garage at the campus of Cal State Northridge, where we watch the sunset on the mountains surrounding us in every direction. Viewpoints work is a series of exercises/improvs that is very playful, instinctual, and focused, so the whole experience is really refreshing and physically demanding. We worked for nearly 4 hours tonight, and even though I was coming off an 8.5 hour work day and 3 hours of sleep, I feel incredibly alive, refreshed mentally and physically.
I totally jinxed myself in regards to auditions in my last post. Aside from one at Glendale Center Theatre this week, I didn't go on any and I don't have any more planned for this week. Oh well. Whattayagonnado.
Hmmm let's see...I think that's all I want to share right now. I'll close with a quote I stole from my friend Mackenzie from my Showcase that I am currently digging:
"The truly creative mind in any field is no more than this: a human creature born abnormally, inhumanly sensitive. To him a touch is a blow, a sound is a noise, a misfortune is a tragedy, a joy is an ecstasy, a friend is a lover, a lover is a god, and failure is death. Add to this cruelly delicate organism the overpowering necessity to create, create, create... By some strange, inward urgency, he is not alive unless he is creating." Pearl S. Buck