After Seattle

The five-week run of Hayley Heaton’s The Man in the Newspaper Hat is over. We had our last show this past Saturday, December 17, did a swift strike and went out to drink. It was fitting that it happened that I drank four cranberry-vodkas, the same amount I downed after the opening. This time, however, I did eat along with the booze. Hey, it DOES make a difference!

What’s the fallout? Well, we got a lot of publicity, consistent audiences, reviews ranging from good to middling to very very strange, but then a talk-back session with audience responses that blew me away with their level of questions and insight. So go figure. Of course it’s still much too close for me to really make an accurate assessment of what it all means. So much work, passion, conviction, not only for me, but for everyone in the team. If I don’t have it, how can I expect anyone else to give themselves fully?

Which brings me to a more general subject: where does the inspirator inspire herself when the going gets rough? The obvious choice are loved-ones, friends and drink. Yes, that all works, though in a strange city, with one’s beloved a continent away, and drowning oneself in drink is not a good idea long-term, this really is an issue.  Often it’s not even so much about serious problems, but the general venting and lamenting, that we need to get out of our systems, so we can function for another day. Yes, yoga helps, yes, running helps. And in my case I found time and time again, that going into the Elliott Bay Bookstore, and browsing through books, relieved my mind from my individual trials and tribulations, as I let myself be carried into an imaginary world, or a subject matter I didn’t even know existed. Naturally this leads to buying too many books, which I certainly did bemoan the other day, when it came to packing them. However, there is a solace in the life of the mind, and I really don’t mean that in any uppity way. Just as a momentary escape hatch, when one’s system is overloaded, there is no one to talk to, and my ambition is not to end my days going to AA for the rest of my life.

Now it’s time to step away. First the holidays, a new start into a new year, and immersing myself once more into the world of Richard Strauss’ Salome.

I wish you all a great festive, pine-scented Happy Holidays, and a good slide (“an guata Rutsch!“) into the New Year,

Mazel Tov,