All right I'll say it: this project has been more difficult than I anticipated. Not only the photography part, which I'm remarkably unqualified for (thank goodness for camera+), but what to tell you every day! Short of waxing poetic about our lovely audiences or remembering the quirks of each night [likely meaningless to all except my boyfriend, who saw the show three nights in a row last week], I'm not used to finding myself that consistently interesting... I've started playing around in the lulls of the show, making up stories and imagining the rest of these characters' lives, where did they buy this shirt, was it the first thing in the drawer or did she pick it out special, does she love her job, what does she listen to on the commute? The questions are endless, the danger is forgetting to walk back onstage. But it's funny to me how long it's taken (three weeks into the run!) for me to do it as often, as much as I do now -- how much permission is necessary when we become adults just to sit and make believe. Kids can transfer seamlessly between our reality and any one they choose to make up at a moment's notice, and don't they seem the happier for it? Whoever decided that growing up and "facing facts" was the way to get on in life?