same bullshit, different day

It's been a long week of making theater for no money. I spent hours yesterday working on a proposal that I had to run to a theater that may or may not even accept the damn thing because it's late. We checked with them and they said they would take it late but then I didn't have time to work on it because I was in rehearsal, doing rewrites, buried in production stuff, dealing with every other element of running a fucking theater company, so I didn't have time to work on the proposal to get the free space at the prestigious theater, which we desparately fucking need, so the proposal has ended up REALLY late. But I busted my ass yesterday for 6 hours, writing writing writing, plus the subway ride and the dashing through streets of New York and then dashing back to the subway to get to another theater to do a walk through. I cancelled a meeting with a press rep and I didn't go running. It was exhausting. And it pissed me off.

Because we can't make theater without the hand outs. Without the grants and the residencies and the begging and the free labor from good friends and the artists who work way below their standards for us. I'm starting to feel like a street urchin. Or a slum lord. And in taking all that time to fill out applications, write narrative, compile bios, print copies of reviews, get more DVDs burned, when is there the time to make the work that we are asking for support for? I'm too busy compiling company data and writing cover letters that are basically fucking begging for support than to work on my craft (sorry to use the dumbass word) or just make my fucking plays better. Please think I'm good enough. Oh please like my work enough. All I can do is hope that my application stands out in a teeteringly tall pile of applications by other collaborative ensemble experimental edgy (insert dumbass downtown theater adjective of choice here) theater companies.

It's demeaning. I just want to make the plays.

After writing all day and rushing and running and kissing some ass and agreeing to things I didn't want to agree to because people are doing me favors and letting Camilo buy me dinner because I am BROKE and feeling guilty about it because he does all our graphic design work for practically free, I was almost ready to throw in the towel. There are days where it seems too hard. Like I'll never make a living at this on my terms. Like I'll have to go to grad school to get contacts or I'll have to become a director for hire and stop making my own work. But my friends who have done those things aren't making livings at it either. They struggle too. We're all just trying to make the work, make a living. Maybe be happy here and there. Or at least be ok with things. Maybe I should just work full time at Cupcake Cafe again. I KNOW I'm good at making coffee.

I did have one transcendent experience yesterday, when I watched The Real Housewives of Orange County for the first time ever. I think I maybe saw God.

Oh and it snowed. It was amazing. So perhaps things aren't so bad.