Sunday

A screenshot of my newsletter sent out today.

Today was heavenly on the seawall. My feet moved like perpetual motion machines whilst my mind whirred with things about the show, the future and my way of living. But the smells of Spring were a tonic to my weary soul.

I left at 2:00 pm after working through my lines. And I thoroughly cleaned my place because the week coming is a juggernaut of activity for man used to sewing or writing alone in his paradise.

I sent out my second and last newsletter advertising the show and have had some lovely responses.

Tonight, is my dinner with J&B at Bishop’s. Yum!

I feel as though I am at the edge of a cliff about to jump off—the show being the cliff. I could die if the show stinks, still I have to keep falling for two weeks until it is over and how I feel then will depend on how the fall has gone. But I am not afraid, thank God.

I willingly took on this challenge when it was offered, but as I have been writing: I feel done. Maybe the will to do more will return, but I don't care if it doesn’t. There are more experiences to be had out there.

As a storyteller, I provoke comments or questions about Spalding Gray. I looked up “dilettante” in the dictionary and this is what it said:

One who dabbles in an art or field of knowledge.

Perhaps that’s me. I think there is something deeper going on when I consider that my screenplay sold. So, searching for that label to explain my behavior, if I am a dilettante, I am a clever one.