Old piano requested in the props dpt

In Circus, Drafts, Film, Hautvoir, Local projects, Music, Revision, Theater on October 20, 2013 at 7:28 am

In the final part of the dream, the wetnurse threw back the large frilly cap hiding her face. Revealed she was a wetnurse, and not the baby’s mother. Was raising and feeding the little one since the child’s parents, opera singers both, had been murdered or otherwise made to disappear.

At which point I woke up. Prior to the wetnurse and adorable tyke someone chucked on the chin: a long, involved presentation I made to various members of my employer’s Board of Governors. My presentation interrupted and challenged by one of the Guvs who found my tone and manner too militant. C’est la vie.

Fiction. Two people showed up for yesterday’s writing session – ergo, three attempts at story-telling with a hodge podge of source materials from which to draw (I always write along, if only to discover what story elements coalesce, what elements fall by the wayside.)

Plus, the inauguration of the new installations in town. Plus a party I did not attend. I’m sure a great time was had by the participants – in public, actors, musicians, film and stage technicians aren’t retiring types, as a general rule.

But I have fictional characters waiting for some of the real-life hubbub to simmer down, so they can stage their own takes on dreams left To Be Continued.

I missed the Buster Keaton with live musical accompaniment yesterday. Saw the pianist and crew zipping off with the piano. Now I  yearn for the tinkly sound of a less-than-grand upright with a few sticky keys where the felt has worn thin from knocking the little wooden hammer against a lazy string.


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