Damn. The Durrells on Corfu is over. I just loved the story, the actors and all the pretty faces.
I’ve been feeling a certain anxiety about how much money I am spending on my dresses. I can’t be feeling too anxious about it because I keep spending more — I pick up two more mannequins today — perhaps because all I hope to recover only the mannequin costs through staging a show of some kind. I could be insane.
However: I arrived at the front door of my building last night to see an advertisement about an open house in our building. It was for a corner suite like mine. It was renovated nicely, too, like mine and it was listed for $500 grand! Perhaps I should relax a little about the cost of my hobby.
And maybe I can let go of having a show, too. I love the idea of a show, it inspires me to be more thoughtful about everything I am doing, but the whole exercise is rather odd and it might be nice to let go of having to do anything with the dresses at all.
One thing I know: Although the dresses catch the eye this exercise is about the letters more than anything else; I would never show these dresses were they not seen as artifacts of a story. For me, the story is primal. For the viewer — we’ll perhaps I’ll find out. I’ll only know if I do the show.
Last night, I was thinking about why I would do it. And I thought about a couple of routes to doing a show. One was to just have a one-night show/party in a large room. I could even do it as a benefit but that idea is tenuous because the cost recovery I am after is for myself — only for the dress forms and mannequins.
The other thing I was thinking was to stage the whole thing as Charlotte’s show (with my name mentioned nowhere); I could hire someone to be Charlotte. That could be fun. I have lots of time in which to keep thinking about what to do with ten weird dresses.