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Start of Geither’s class tonight. Am looking forward to it. I definitely have need of a semester of writing and focusing on writing. Some of you are probably familiar with these exercises: 1-3, I was given a word and had to write around it. 4-5, they were phrases.

1. Kiss ‘er why doan ya? Girl come all this way ‘cross a desert a time ‘an you woan even kiss ‘er? Why, I’d a be all over that young missy. I’d be a saddle on a horse ta her. I’d say,…
2. Pounds? I’d give ya a pound. What the Sam hell is a pound? A stone? A pound a butter? Pound is a weight, ya dingbat, not a currency. It ain’t money, ya daft…
3. Wouldn’t hit a man with glasses, would ya? Break somethin’ off somebody’s face that way. Somethin’ expensive like glasses. Somethin’ necessary for seein’ with. I’d be blind. Blind without I had’em. Blind.
4. It’s no big deal. Won’t break the bank at Monte Carlo. Won’t cause no pencil-necked, egg-head to gag when it comes across his desk. But it’s big money to me. Big money. A man’s gotta stack a lot a boxes for that kind a money.
5. I’ve done all I can do to be as visible as possible with him this year. And I don’t think that its asking too much to expect a little decency in his response to me. To expect a little invisibility today for instance. To be allowed to hide from everyone. To stay back.
6. I’d start with the management, that’s what I’d do. Somebody ask me what I think, that’s what I’d say. Damn fool business is what. Like to drinkin’ pond water is what it is. Disgustin’ stuff. Rot. Put a hole in yer middle. Eat through yer intest–tines.

I have really committed now to focusing on character, voice, and expression. As well as trying to allow thoughts to flow through, and not control the direction. I have spent so much time focused on plot and character development specifically for sacrifice to plot that it is frightening for me to let go and allow things to flow through that have no “known” purpose. This is my committment for a very long while. I almost said year, but I don’t even want to limit it. I want to let streams flow through my consciousness. To not control what comes through our out. To come later and work it together. To discover what is said and what is meant. I’ll come back to the ‘wright’ and crafting later. I need to dig in. Dig deep. I’m thankful I found [amazon_link id=”0879102047″ target=”_blank” ]Shepard[/amazon_link] at this point; he has inspired me to let go and look around.

Just watched the PBS Great Performances show on [amazon_link id=”6305154481″ target=”_blank” ]Sam Shepard[/amazon_link].

I was pretty influenced by the fact that his early plays and early writing is so admittedly just stuff he put out there. Just had an impulse, notion, idea and dramatized it; shot it out, let it live. A lot of stream of consciousness. A lot of personal experience and personal history. Then, later, he went on to considering larger ideas, like family, leading to his “[amazon_link id=”0553346113″ target=”_blank” ]trilogy[/amazon_link].”

This has forced me to re-consider my approach to playwrighting, as I have been more driven to write plays about issues that concern me and about the people those issues affect. However, none of them really has any anything to do with me. Nothing like it has happened to me, or likely will, at best it is the impersonal made personal.

Often I have thought about approaching personal experiences: family silences, what is unsaid, etc.; and more personal subjects, but have been hesitant to go through that door. I think I have some understanding now as to why. Not that it will be any easier at some later date, but assuredly, knowing myself and writing plays that bring myself forward will iron the will that has to write plays that are larger in scope.