Wet, Wet Friday

It's pouring outside, and dark. And the prognosticators don't have good news for the upcoming week. I will get lots done because its also pouring figuratively:

1. Early yesterday morning, Warren arrived and we got down to turning Knock Knock into a screenplay. It was slow going. Poor Warren is having to start from scratch. The whole morning was spent teaching me how to write for film. Then Warren left and I wrote five short bits to send to him to read like homework.
   
   Guess what? I really like it. It is like no other writing I have ever done because it requires a lot of description and for a guy with a very visual way of thinking, I not only find it rather easy, I really like it. All my life was technical writing — all actions or ideas — but for this screenplay, Warren has me describing the people and places in it and I love it.
2. My voice situation is so strange. I don't know if it is better or not, but I can talk without any problems at all 99% of the time. But, if I want, I can also lose it. I am of the impression that I have learned to talk in a new "place" on my vocal chords. That is how I think of my intuition because I can go "back" to the old place I used to talk and speak in the horrid way I have for the past 3 months.
3. Kim, on our future with my new play, HoMe: "I am very stoked about this idea. I sense it will be rewarding artistically, personally and financially for both you and the theatre." He has written to say that we will do a workshop in the fall.
   
   Doing my first play, Knock Knock, was hugely rewarding. The laughter, the curtain calls, the notes and emails all were very satisfying, but self-production short-circuits complete satisfaction—and I knew it would. That's why Kim's initiation of—and enthusiasm for—HoMe feels so satisfying. I have reached my ultimate and dream goal in life and I had let it go.
   
   I want to say that again: I have reached my ultimate and dream goal in life and I had let it go.
   
   The dream I dared not dream all my life was to write a play that got professionally produced. Bonus: I am the lead performer. And I had let that dream go. Four years ago, I thought to myself: Why carry this disappointment around? Why not let go of that dream and get on with life — find happiness in new goals? And that is what I did. That's how the idea of self-producing Knock Knock. I was buying the dream.
   
   But Kim has rewarded that initiative and fulfilled a the life-long dream born when I first saw the garage of our new home in August 1952. It became my first theatre. It's time again for my new catch-phrase: Fucking pinch me.
4. June 12th is the day of my operation. Dr. Leung calls it the mother of biopsies because it is not a diagnostic biopsy, it is a therapeutic and research biopsy. They take out a piece go lung to support treatment research for me and a much bigger piece to support clinical research because they think many people with HIV and on the cocktail may develop this disease.