Contemplation
I’m watching kids. Kitty kids. I’m at their service. If they want a walk, we go for a walk. If they want to eat, I bring them food. Scritches? Play? Yep.. I’m here to serve. I stare at them and can’t get over their fur covered bodies. Watching their gait as they walk or run.. a maz ing. When they eat, I just watch their tongues do their thing. (why is it so satisfying to see someone you love eat?) Since they’re outdoor kids their claws are truly murder mittens. I mean.. the sharpest little unforgiving needles. Thank the gawds I’m on their good side.
I’m out on land while landmates are at burning man. It’s gorgeous. Running around in the least amount of clothes possible, feeling safe with no one coming round. The way the warm breeze moves around you.. touching you invisibly.. it’s noteworthy. The views of the hills and trees and plants and critters (lots of lizards skittering about) is so incredibly entertaining I sit in silence doing absolutely nothing, just observing. I don’t do this in SF. Not really. Unless I purposely sit to meditate, there are no quiet moments of doing .. nothing.
The theatre is struggling. It’s a constant worry. The new year will bring on big changes that might not sustain this large amount of square footage. Theatres cost big money because you need a lot of space but you can’t possibly charge enough in renters or tickets to make ends meet. The two are at complete odds with each other. And we’re starting to really feel this with the loss of the Exit and other theatre groups. There are a handful of producing groups left which are spread out over the handful of theatres. Audiences are staying home to watch netflix. The landscape of live performance is changing dramatically and these small breeding grounds which provides everyone with netflix talent and entertainment are disappearing. Where will actors get their chops? Show me an actor who didn’t start in a 49 seat theatre or something like it. I can’t figure out a solution. Without buying a building or finding a sympathetic landlord, there’s little hope. Just ever increasing gaps in ends meeting.
I’ve started thinking about plan b. Which includes looking at boats. Live aboards. Who wants a massage on a boat? I think I’m on to something here. I love SF. The weather, the people, the entertainment… but how does an old chick live a life in a painfully expensive city with a pretty specific skill set.
Some of the kids working in theatre these days are not kind to us old timers. I recently had the unfortunate experience of being told I was not worth a meager $400/month to do my job. Mostly because my job consisted of reminding folks to do the most basic of things over and over and over. Like locking a door. Or tarping and protecting stage and curtains. Decades of watching carelessness has taught me how to make things last with a little extra effort. But kids have to find out in their own way and there is little respect for ‘grandma’ speaking up. In what world do I need this shit?
So I’m out here contemplating … everything. I have no clue what the future will bring but I do know that the breeze tickling my scantily clothed body is a convincing argument.
