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Okay, here's the thing: I love you, but I want more followers. Gotta figure out how to promote this thing. Of course, I shot it in the foot by taking away its central focus, so now even I don't know what the heck it's supposed to be about, so that doesn't help.

I think that what will come in the future is a new blog that focuses on my work as an artist. That way, it can appeal to other artists, who can relate and comment about their own similar experiences. But that will probably be on the Wordpress Book of Dreams site, which is technically up but not updated since the failed production of last fall's What Connects Us.

I've been keeping pretty busy, more so than I have in a long time. I worked on a monologue for Part Time Playhouse. Their summer series, In Theater, focuses on work written by and/or performed by military veterans. The piece I did was a 7-page monologue, which was very well written and well acted. (I withhold names of people in this blog to protect their privacy if they don't want to be blogged about.) But I had trouble directing it. First, I felt like a fish out of water in two ways: 1.) I was not a vet, and could not relate to a lot of the experiences discussed among the playwright and actor. And 2.) This was for a filmed public TV production, which was new to me, and I didn't know all the ins and outs of how that worked. Both elements made me lack confidence in my abilities to both direct and be respected. Very early on, the actor nailed the performance of this piece, with a real understanding of the character, and for most of the rehearsals, I just kind of sat there, not knowing how to improve upon it, which left me feeling redundant. But then the broadcast day came, and the finished product was wonderful. I don't know how much credit I can take for it, but it felt good to see the piece succeed, because it was really solid. I also had a chance to hang out with an actress who I directed in a show a couple years ago. She was starring in a different monologue, also very good.

So it's been nerve-wracking, getting things arranged for my project grant that I'm applying for. You have to try to figure out when and where you're going to perform the piece that you want to do, but often to do that, you have to pay a deposit to reserve the space. I have assured various people whom I love that I will be careful about taking financial risks. And so I have to really watch what kind of arrangements I make with people. I have to know that I'll be able to follow through. I have to either have an escape clause in case I don't get the funding, OR I have to have a plan B for how to fund the project. I already know I'm gonna be doing other types of fund-raising in addition to the grant, even if I get it. But the pressure is on; the complete application and supplemental materials (whatever those turn out to be) are due before the end of the month.

Tonight was a very significant night for me because after a few years of working on my new play, "para physin", which I wrote with a good friend of mine, I finally had it read in a public setting by PDX Playwrights. Mostly it was a good experience. Even when people are trying to make your script better, their suggestions are made in such a way that is thoughtful and considerate of your hard work and your feelings. I know that all my work comes from a place very deep within me and it's really hard to stick your neck out there for people to chop it off. But this is a good group, a thoughtful group, and I appreciated the feedback. I hope to be able to showcase it in Fertile Ground 2014, but there are some changes that need to be made first. Again, money is an issue. And rehearsal space. Last year's attempt was such a miserable failure, I don't know if I can bear trying again so soon.

So in the next weeks, I'll be working on the grant and helping out in a play for Wilsonville Theater Co. Been trying to find some nice people to date online, but it's not been very successful. The guys that seem great tend to be con artists. And I used to be gullible, but not anymore. The day you realize you've become a realist is worse than the day you realize you're a man and childhood is gone.