The place, not the act of.
"why" you might ask "are you sitting in your office on Tuesday night when you could be out, um, livin' it up."
Well, like so many other species that have come and gone, the internet at my house has become extinct. Additionally, I have been moonlighting at the Alley Theater, right next to the opera, for the past two days doing some good old manual labor and have not had the constant and ever present internet that I have here.
It has been really great to work outside of the opera for a couple of days. Eight hours, I do what I'm told, I hang lights where I am told to hang them, and nobody complains.
There is something inexplicably satisfying about washing your hands at the end of the day (well, lets be honest, throughout the day) and watching the sink turn gray.
It fills me with a sense that I have accomplished something, progress has been made, and it was made by me.
So often in my "day job" we work for hours and days and weeks, and see nothing at all, except for the occasional change of a number and an ever increasing stack of very important documents.
It's nice to put effort into something physical, every now and then.
I have also been working with just finished or just out of high school kids. No unions to be found. Work is asked to get done, work gets done, more work is then requested.
What a different world to the one I am sitting in right now. Not 100 feet away from a union stage where it is so easy to get jaded about every facet that goes into making a show. Increasingly so when every step is met with opposition and attitude.
But not today.
And not tomorrow.
And that's good enough for me.
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1 comment:
You must be pretty tired. That whole Tuesday/Thursday distinction is pretty difficult. Can you blame that on working in a union house?
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