Excrutiating Ephemera . . .

. . . is the way of all things theatrical, I suppose. And so it was with The Swan, which closed Saturday night. We were a small, tight, congenial cast; but we weren't a partying cast, which unfortunately meant that all things ended in a fast strike, quick departures and something like an unceremonious shrug. The most satisfying role I've ever had, robbed of his wings, is waddling off into the distance, sqawking plaintively because he's not sure why I've abandoned him.

In any case, I thank my stars that this show happened to me after such a long break, that so many people who came to see the show said so many nice things, and that I didn't sustain any major injuries from either the piece or from trying to haul the antique refrigerator that served as the swan's perch up and down the narrow staircase at the Northwest Actor's Studio. I'm thankful that I was able to work with artists with whom I'd never yet been on stage, and that I was able to re-connect with Atlas Theatre in the wake of trying times with mutual acquaintances. I'm thankful to come out of a show that I loved, my head abuzz with hope and beauty, rather than ennui and misanthropy. As usual, I'm a little sad and lost, a little uncertain about what's next. But now that unease is well tempered with an unfamiliar ember of compassion.

In other news: Today I'm wearing khakis and a blue shirt, the absolute uniform of NW business casual. Yes, I too am bourgeois (like there was ever any doubt).

Listened online to new works by Om (transcendent stoner metal) and Wizardzz (freaky, prog-ish, synth-heavy, movie-soundtrack instru-metal). Whoa. Good stuff. I need to get my hands on that Wizardzz album stat, so's I can write a proper review.

OK, that's it. Just a quick check-in today. As the nature of my "hopeful melancholy" begins to reveal itself, or I find new morsels to review, or if I manage to get good and pissed-off about something, I'll be checking back in.