Written in November, 2015. About one of my early plays:
Right now they only live on the screen. You see the words, comprehend the words, imagine the words turning into an environment, a darkness, a sweetness, a state of confusion. Or you let them stand in their lankiness against the blaring white. They are plays on paper: unrehearsed, unproduced, unknown.
These plays have not yet borne any reponsibilities to theater, which in a way allows me to change them rather independently. What you read here is a moment of something frozen – it might thaw and evaporate and freeze once more, never returning to the same shape.
This freedom, however, yearns for a framework. Plays are not products of solitude. They need execution, and I need camaraderie.
From the same bulk of text:
Texts can manifest as music, concrete poetry, or serve a communicative function. Dialogues can be autobiographical, fictional, read, or performed. God can be the 12-year-old next door, an ensemble of wise dogs, an anthromorphized belief like a piece of googly-eyed old news, or a circular thought whose beginning and ending are but semantics that no longer exist.
I want to keep adding to that collection of thoughts by learning more about the stage, however you define it.