Looking in the Mirror

I get into the bath, I close my eyes and I start thinking and sometimes I think hard about what comes to mind—and that is exactly what I do: Think about what comes to mind. I do not get into the bath to think about a subject chosen by my conscious mind.

I think that as I sink into the bath, what does or should concern me floats into my consciousness for serious consideration. My bath induces self-analysis and today my thoughts went like this: I should stop this madness of creating shows, accept that all I do is a desperate cry for attention and quietly go away. Then I ask myself: What will I do? I know, I say, I will write this piece about….

I am a compulsive creator, but I am ashamed of the lengths to which I go for attention. It seems sad, embarrassing and pathetic so it has to stop.

I think I am a person who is pretty good at many things but not very good at anything, and that’s okay. And Bruce told me that attention is something all creators seek, so it’s okay too, that I have been seeking attention. I can live with myself.

I quit travelling because I felt I was investing in an activity that took me away from my friends. My “stage stories,” I thought, would bring my friends to me and that has worked handsomely.

There is also the issue of goals. I am a goal-oriented person with little to live for. I have no kids or family. My “projects” are carrots, luring me forward. Now, though, feeling uncomfortable about being a person dedicated to the seeking of attention, I have to re-think my future.

I have considered some options:

1. Taking a course.
2. Going back to creating “shows” for PAL—seeking attention in a way that yields a benefit for a worthy charity. My idea is to make costumes and write monologues for the characters.
3. Trying to live without a project and just hope Uncle Gus’s Monkey goes into production.
4. Re-write Artist Survival Skills.
5. Re-write Harridan once more as seeing if that light’s a spark for production at/for PAL.