Guess who wrote the 8000th Too Much Light... play?
That's right, you guessed it. Yours truly.
Wow, what a moment.
Of course this kind of thing is purely chance, sure. But, isn't everything? Isn't it all luck, and chance, and one small step out of bounce? One one thousandth of a point?
Nevertheless, my toes were curling around that beam.
I screamed like a shirtless chipmunk cheeked swimmer high on marijuana cigarettes.
You know how it works;
We go around the circle and propose our plays one by one.
Then we take a moment.
Divide the number rolled slightly into a half.
Pick the half.
That's the first round of picking.
You know all this, right?
The conductor goes around the circle asking ensemble members to pick a play.
He or she picks a play, and its in. period. Circled on our respective loose leaf pages of paper.
That's the juice right there, for a play to be in the menu, it must be championed by one person. And one person only. A little something we call; art ladies and gentleman. Collective art.
First round of picking.
Heavy discussion about all the other plays, the ones that weren't picked on the first round.
Then another round of picking/something we call "throwing out," depending on the number rolled.
And it just so happened, mathematically speaking, that the third play picked last Tuesday night would be the 8,000 Too Much Light Play written by a Neo-Futurist to be performed at the Neo-Futurarium within the trademarked confines of thirty plays in sixty minutes.
There you have it.
T--Balls happened to be the third person to pick on the first round of picking, and for one reason or another he picked my lil' play entitled Shiny Shine Shine.
And then I cried a little.
Because my emotions are on the surface these days.
Because I'm in a transitional time.
~Skin & Toast