desire

Absolutely no desire to do much of anything but veg, today.

Yup, I’m as shocked as you.

(shhh – if you follow the links, you’re in danger of fun)

Interesting conversation recently with a composer-friend about the work: when one gets to a certain career level – or even just a certain number of years of doing it (he’s been going strong since age 7) – sometimes gardening is more interesting.  Often.

This fellow has a passion to compose an opera on a certain topic, both timely and interesting to aficionados of many disciplines.  He also has commissions to write, classes to teach, other obligations.

Here’s my question: were he to slip the other activities and even just begin that which burns in his soul, would he lose his ennui?

Mine isn’t exactly boredom, more like limbo.

I was involved in a great rehearsal, yesterday, for an in-camera reading of one of my plays at Cleveland Play House tomorrow.  The reading showed me answers to unanswered questions I’d already had about the work’s structure, but starting a rewrite today might be counter-productive: what about all of the issues I didn’t notice, what if they take precedence over yesterday’s discovery?

And so I sit quietly on my much-too-comfy sofa, thinking about taking the laundry off the line.

Or lunch.

Or gardening.

My composer-friend is right, every now and then a bit of respite is actually a good thing.

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