Tag: theatre

out the door to work any minute

Heart of the World:


Originally uploaded by Foxtongue.

I’m still writing, (and re-writing and re-writing), both the pitch and the business plan, trying to make them as absolutely perfect as I can before I release them into the cruel wilds of the world. When I’m done, I’ll be putting the pitch up both here and on the website and asking people to spread it around more than I can alone. (With thanks to Katie for already putting up my messy rough-draft). The business plan will be up there too and very likely sent out to whomever asks for it. The more people know about this, the more likely it is we’ll be a success.

The realtor called back, has told me there’s no violations on the building, the plumbing and electrical are up to spec. Hydro is approximately $500/month and taxes are $14,849 a year. He doesn’t know about the insurance. On Oliver’s advice, I’m going to be making a legal offer on the place this week, possibly tomorrow, giving us a deadline of December 1st, with a completion date of January 15th.

People who would like to buy shares, the details on that are being finessed as quickly as I can in the hours around my day-job. I’ve got a lawyer looking at it for me and hopefully he’ll have definitive information for me to give you on that by the end of the week.

On a more socially accessible level:

Pacific Cinematheque is running a Russian Sci-Fi exhibition, and I’m planning on attending the Thursday night screening of Ruslan and Ludmila at 8:45 pm. It’s being billed as “A mad, enchanted combination of The Wizard of Oz, Die Niebelungen and The 5,000 Fingers of Dr. T,” which sounds practically compulsory. It promises a lush, fantastical pre-cursor to Jan Svankmajer, Terry Gilliam, and Tim Burton. Tickets are $8.50 with memberhip, (double bills are $10.5)0, and membership, if you don’t already have it, is another $3.

Friday night I’m going to HIVE. Billed as a multi-faceted performance installation, it’s really a giant funky warehouse party with a bar/cafe in the middle, put on by eleven of BC’s best-known independent theatre companies, many of whom I’ve worked for or am delighted to be friends with. (Boca del Lupo, Electric Company, Felix Culpa, Leaky Heaven Circus, neworldtheatre, The Only Animal, Radix, Rumble Productions, Theatre Replacement, Theatre SKAM, Western Theatre Conspiracy). How it works is that the space is divided into 11 performances areas, intimate little toy theatres, each under the complete control of a company. David Bloom, (Felix Culpa), for example, has told me that he’s going up with our friend Alex and performing The Trojan War in Approximately Ten Minutes.

I cursed myself for forgetting my place

I found myself unexpectedly in a pub full of familiar theatre people this evening after rehearsal. As it’s been close to three years since I was regularly working shows in Vancouver, there was a tacit agreement that I belonged, but hardly anyone could place me. Jacques arrived, and when he finally noticed me and said hello, I caught several people relaxing. They’d been worried that I was some strange mis-perception, a mental twitch of a stranger who only seemed familiar. I collected a few e-mail addresses of people I’ve missed talking to. I’ve got to remember to send them an appropriate hello before I go to bed.

“Then she sank down to her knees, grasped the cutter by both hands, took a deep breath and plunged the long blade through the middle of the package, through the middle of the masking tape, through the card- board through the cushioning and (thud) right through the center of Waldo Jeffers head, which split slightly and caused little rhythmic arcs of red to pulsate gently in the morning sun…“

My teeth feel sweet now. Rose gave me a black to smoke while we stood outside socializing after. I accepted, forgetting that I don’t smoke, never have. The tops of my lungs are now complaining, reminding me that it’s been six years since I’ve lit anything up, but I mystified myself by having all the proper mannerisms. I suspect I will either eventually blame the city I live in, as Vancouver is a place where Marijuana isn’t considered a drug by any but the repressed children of the far right, so everywhere there are people with little rectangles of white paper rolled into tubes to be gestured with, or my exes who smoked and so gave me a character to unconsciously pattern. Either way, I was somewhat perturbed by how easily I took holding the soothing crackle of tar and clove.

  • Texas Voters Approve Ban on Gay Marriage.
  • Denver voters make adult possession of one ounce or less of marijuana legal.
  • Kansas education board downplays evolution.

    • my ex is in the show tonight, maybe I’ll get to meet his wife.

    My computer snapped yesterday, a nasty electrical crack that tells of either a power source or a motherboard. The acrid scent resulting leans me toward thinking it was a power source failure. I suspect that my power bar doesn’t have the surge protector I assumed it did and the fridge turned on at an inopportune time. I live in an old building. Currently I’m thefting minutes on my roommate’s computer until I can get it fixed. It’s a highly unreliable way to stay in contact, but feel free to continue sending letters, I will eventually get them, though I won’t be reading my flist at all. Also, all of my phone-numbers are now inaccessible. You have to leave your number when you call, else I have no way of getting ahold of you unless Andrew has your number in his phone.

    I plan on sending Ryan out today, in fact, to see what can be done about fixing my quiet machine. I can only twitch on without it for so long without a base madness setting in. Today after work, the distraction is to the THE PARTY NOT STARRING PETER SELLERS, the 10 o’clock showing.