The Bloody Doors Off

Companion to our demons
They will dance and we will play
With chairs, candles and cloth
Making darkness in the day
It will be easy to look in or out
Upstream or down without a thought

Sarah McLaughlin, Fumbling Towards Ecstacy

False alarm. Thought I had a blog post.

I know, I’m disappointed too.

The next one could be enormous, though.

Or it might be a ‘current mood’-linked video.

I dunno.

Really thought I had something brewing.

It’s quiet, with the boy at his father’s.

I’m playing tunes on Spotify; Marlo is singing along while cleaning out her fountain pens.

Just had an interesting moment.

We’re listening to a song from Sigur Ros. I can’t even begin to try and spell the name of it (aside from “Untitled #4”) and Marlo and I have totally different memories associated with it. I know the song from Vanilla Sky (loved that film) but for her, it’s my short play, Snow Angels.

(Sure, why not plug it. I think it’s a damned fine script, and Lucy and Sofia act the hell out of it.)

And I may have submitted Snow Angels to the St. John’s Shorts festival on the east coast. Performed live. The chances are slim-to-none that we’ll get in (Indigenous and equity-seeking arts are given priority, and all others get a shot at the last-third of the open slots; this year, because of Covid, while they plan to go live, they are only accepting 15 companies. Total.)

The draw is Tuesday.