Monday, April 16, 2018

Draft Four Done

 Beth and me.

Sunday was like Saturday: It was nasty in the morning turning into bright but cloudy skies and shadows. Beth and I did our own thing in the morning and then we went to the nursery and when I got back I planted colour in the new gardens. I can hardly wait to go back for more plants. I got Geraniums, Petunias, Asters and Marigolds.
I wrote a song for Charlotte to sing at the end of Defiant Dress. There’s no kick to the resolution of the conflict so the song provides some punch to the ending.
Here is her song for my play ‘about’ dresses. This one by a young female character who belongs to a band called The Pleasted Skirts. She has written it to perform it for her father who once played professional baseball, left the family and has come to visit with his new bride and daughter.

This little girl loved baseball,
Out of pants, under duress.
Every birthday Mum would ask me.
‘Could you please put on a dress?’
When it was time for dating,
each one ended in distress.
Daddy said I’d be a spinster’
if I wouldn’t wear a dress.
I don’t want to feel that I am some pretender.
Pleasing others makes me feel so depressed.
Why does everyone wear clothes defined by gender?
I could never ever ever wear a dress.
The partners passed a dress code,
clients had to be impressed.
I switched to self-employment —
not a dress do I possess.
Middle age had me regretful,
Life had failed to coalesce.
I worked alone; alone at home,
‘cause I wouldn’t wear a dress.
I don’t want to feel that I am some pretender.
Pleasing others makes me feel so depressed.
Why does everyone wear clothes defined by gender?
I could never ever wear a dress.
I thought forever I’d be single
‘cause I wouldn’t acquiesce.
But then one day a man came by
with a secret to express.
He asked if we could marry.
There’s no way I’d answer Yes.
But then I had to change my mind,
he said he’d wear the dress.
We exist in perfect splendor.
There is never any stress.
I found my match; he’s quite a catch,
each day, our love, I bless.
I wear the dirt; he wears the skirt,
each day, our love, I bless.
With that song done, I’ve “finished” the re-write. I’m going to go through the third scene again though — the healing wound. Then I’ll get it read by some discerning minds. After that: I’ll make any changes I want as a result of the feedback I get. Then it will be time to get back in touch with the Arts Club.
It’s simple, shallow and not funny enough yet but it may have potential. I am too close to it to be able to tell; the dresses and their stories, definitely work. It’s just the play that’s iffy and if it fails to ignite the Arts Club, my ladies will be a show perhaps.
It’s about Charlotte and her dresses. The conceit is that the theatre to which the audience comes is an art gallery and the audience is asked to imagine they are the audience attending a gallery opening.
Scene one happens in the theatre lobby. Hamish, the gallery director, tell the audience that the show cannot open. Charlotte, the curator of the show, emerges from the gallery (the auditorium of the theatre) where her show is installed; she successfully gets him to let the audience in to see the show — but the show must be taken down the next day.
Scene two has no dialogue. The audience has 20 minutes or so to just look at the show, mingle, and read the letters of provenance for the dozen folk dresses in the show. The actors mingle with the audience adlibbing. 
Scene three has the curator introduce her show to us, focusing on a couple of the dresses. A visiting gallery owner from Europe expresses interest in the show, so the gallery director allows the show to stay up. Charlotte, however, has had an epiphany: Curating is not for her; she will be a (successful) artist.
Like I say: No big deal. But if you could see the dresses and read the letters I think you’d understand why I have some faith in this project.
Patsy, Beth and I had a fun dinner — our last supper. Patsy comes back late this morning to fetch Beth and take her to Nanaimo where’s Beth will catch a flight to Vancouver. And I go back to life with Sheba, Fred, Ethel and rain for a couple of days and then Allan, Larry and more rain arrive. I’ll miss Beth but I’ll also value the solitude again. 
She’s left me some fabulous Italian soup between tasks. I’ve been ignoring many tasks while Beth was here and I was busy writing draft #4 of Defiant Dress. Today, and until Allan and Larry arrive, I will fuss over little things at Pinecone Park as I loveto do!

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