Three weeks in a blacked out rehearsal hall, trying to lose ourselves. Digging deep, pressing hard, unearthing parts of ourselves that are ugly and terrified and alone and alone and alone.

Some shows are simple. Simple stories simply told.

But some shows are nightmares. Tendrils reaching everwhere, fingers searching, and nothing ever quite connecting or giving reassurance. You are left with more questions than answers. These are the shows that tend to stay in my mind. Images remain burned in my memory like after-images on your retinas. David Lynch makes film like this. So do Hideo Nakata and Takashi Shimizu. Writers like Mark Z. Danielewski and Haruki Murakami evoke this same sense of dread and logical dislocation.

I believe this show is a nightmare. In the best possible way.

Minotaur is up and running. Come see.

More info about show times and tickets here.

So we're all sick as dogs. Hanratty came back from New York with Anthrax or something, and now me, Trish and James are all dying. (He, meanwhile, is over the worst of it - and now he's giving us the gears for being such whiners.)

Glad we're getting this out of the way early.

Despite the coughing and sputtering of the company, we had an incredibly productive week. A lot of the process has been rediscovering old scenework and blocking. But there is a lot of great new content that is going to be a treat to dive into further. The seminars to open the show are a real treat, I think.

And at least once a day I was terrified by what I was seeing onstage.

Heather Braaten, our incredible stage manager, has been spending some sleepless nights because of the creepiness factor of the show. Sadly, when she tells any of us this, she usually gets the answer, "That's AWESOME." Probably not much consolation.

By Sunday, we were able to do a stumblethrough of the entire show. Lots of great work. Lots of great moments that need work. Lots of discoveries to be made.

Don't forget to check this out.

27edgedaleroad.blogspot.com

c.