And Tomorrow Starts The Same Old Thing Again

Last night was closing for the show. Frankly, I was rather sorry to see it go. We didn't do spectacular business during the six-week run, but audiences were definitely picking up, and we have been getting pretty decent word-of-mouth, which was encouraging. But of course, just when it feels like the momentum is starting to turn in your favor, it's all over. It's one of the frustrating things about how we have to operate: you can only run your show for so long, before you have to make way for the next one, so in a situation like this, just when you're just starting to build audiences, you have to stop.

And it's amazing, not to mention a little unnerving, how months worth of preparation, planning, rehearsal, building, sweating and laboring can be reduced in about 90 minutes to nothing more than an empty stage, with only a few spots of unpainted floor to mark that the show was ever there in the first place. Once it was done, we held our post-show celebration, and threw a little party for ourselves, but I have to say, I was feeling a little less than celebratory: I was really proud of this piece, of the effort everyone put into it, and the results that came out of their hard work. I wished it could have been seen by more people, I think they would have enjoyed it, just as those who DID see it seemed to do. It's been a long time since I've felt that good about something into which I've put so much of myself, and I suppose there was a bit of ego involved in not wanting to let it slip away so quickly.

But, as I said, that's the way things work around here. I had my time, took my shot, and now it's someone else's turn.

Thanks again to everyone who put in so much work on "The Moon Is A Dead World"; I couldn't have done it alone, and it wouldn't have been nearly as amazing without your participation.

Time to turn the page...