Virgo 3° (August 25)
Sunday and I dare say I barely remember what this day is meant to be all about. I know I was meant to finish up these year-ahead books and nearly did. Yesterday I worked upstairs for hours and did manage to get things done with a little help from my friends. Trust me this festival I’m working on plus these books I’m finishing, this double process. And, seriously it will be done in the next two weeks at which time I will be full on into the new book project. So that means this year I have already written my twelve horoscope books plus we launched the tee-shirt collection, plus we are redesigning the website, plus a ninth festival under my belt and a fifth. And I want to keep a positive attitude. It will be difficult in the coming days, namely Monday and Tuesday, but by Wednesday I will start feeling like all things are once again possible and that I’m not being sabotaged and derailed. I know I seem to be saying quite the same things over and over again these days—this will soon stop—but the fact is I have to keep reminding myself of this multispoked to-do list. And try to ramp up my confidence in the process all at the same time. I wrote the above a week ago today. The events of this week—well, I won’t say they derailed me but they seriously curtailed me in such a way as is not even really funny. I did manage to write a little bit each day just to mark the actual time as it was happening. But now I have even more yeoman’s work to do.
An artist will threaten to cancel tomorrow; well they will cancel then won’t; they will attempt to get more dosh out of me. They will insult the festival. They will do all sorts of antics. Of course this artist will end up being a Gemini—sorry, Gems but when you’re ba you are truly bad. I will have sent top theatrical folks I know to see this guy’s play in London. They will write me to say they hated it, which is small compensation. It will be the last week of summer. Inlaws will visit. That will further take up my time with cleaning and cooking but it will be a welcome distraction because they are lovely people and I enjoy hosting them, I truly do. It will be a blessing because it will distract me, but I will end up anesthetizing my pain a little too much. I will convince this artist to do his show and I will get further commitment. And three more days will go by and then he (well his director whom I made a member of our Advisory Board) will cancel on his behalf, blaming their musical director for taking another gig. Which is specious and stupid and ironic because originally they thought they’d be showing up and working with a musical director, once, in rehearsal. I don’t really care. Well I do. That plus the fact that I have never had a …oops I forgot what I was going to say because another shiny object distracted me. Oh well the show must go on and I’ll probably do one myself. I don’t see any reason why not. Except I don’t have a show but I guess I can just talk and sing a few songs over the course of seventy minutes. That shouldn’t be too too hard. Now should it?
As I write this I am letting my brain alight on certain stories that might make good telling.
I will come out and say I have to admit I’m a little nervous as I have never done a one-person show before and I never planned to do one as the result of an artist in the Afterglow Festival declaring he wasn’t showing up just days before he was contracted to appear; I always thought that if I did perform a “one-man” show that I would do so after at least a few months of writing it, perhaps in the early spring, taking windswept walks on the beach in Wellfleet, returning home to make cocoa hold the marshmallows to pull on a scratchy wool jumper, settling in to type away, and then rehearsing it for a month in a spare bedroom I would designate as “performance studio”, and then hone the “piece” over a series of performances in clubs and small black box theaters and at laboratories at Bard or MIT. Instead here I am after scribbling a few notes over the course of the last several days all the while trying to fundraise and produce this whole thing. I’m making no apologies, don’t get me wrong, a performer should never apologize for anything. I will make a prediction though. Some of you are going to love this and some of you are going to fucking hate it. I have never inspired middle of the road feelings in anyone, personally or professionally. So I made the snap decision to do this. And grabbed the most interesting photo of myself I could find and slapped a title on it. Out of the Bottle because, though I mightn’t be a genius, there is a chance I am something of a genie, and also I was absolutely not going to get up here with a few scribbled notes and not drink some wine, which is an organic red from the TK region. You might say, in a very large part, that this show is in particurly brought to you by one of our sponsors, Perry’s Wine and Liquor of Provincetown. I am reminded—oh this is a good thing, I am getting improvisational ideas that I haven’t put down on paper—I am reminded of a story of a performer friend of mine who was doing a benefit with other folks, some very famous, for something in London I don’t remember it’s not important….
To view the original Sabian Symbol themed 2015 Cosmic Blague corresponding to this day: Flashback! The degree pointof the Sabian Symbol will be one degree higher than the one listed for today. The Blague portrays the starting degree of for this day ( 0°, for instance), as I typically post in the morning, while the Sabian number corresponds to the end point (1°) of that same 0°-1° period. There are 360 degrees spread over 365 or 6 days per year—so they near but not exactly correlate.
Typos happen. I don’t have a proofreader. And I like to just write, post and go!
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