05 May 2009

breaking up is hard to do

I think that letting go of a play is like letting go of someone you love. It feels similar to what I imagine a breakup would be like or a death in the family. You spent so much time and energy into this one thing and then suddenly it's gone. And ultimately there's just this terrible ache because you know you've lost something really special that you will probably never have back ever again.

I truly miss Love Me Dead. I had Becky's version of the song stuck in my head all night at work. I want to go back to Santa Barbara and be with people and talk about the play and develop more scenes and complicate the characters lives to the point of death. Love and death.

I miss you Love Me Dead.

It's not the end. There really are more scenes to write. The play needs more to genuinely build to the final death.

But it was really successful. People enjoyed themselves. Next time, after I've written more scenes, I want the torture of disintegration of Roxy and James' relationship to bring tears. And that we would all question what makes our existence as living breathing cognitive humans do the things that we do even when we know it destroys us.

I love storytelling. I love theatre.

1 comment:

  1. A beautiful post, Lynne. I Know the mourning you're talking about: Goodbye to a chapter, and hello to the stark reality of time's new blank canvas. Enjoy the swim to the next creative venture, even as you wave farewell to the Love Me that's Dead.