That’s it. The show must go on, until the show is complete and there’s nothing more to be shown.
What a magnificent run; everything I hoped it would be. My performers, my technicians and choreographers…all of them, blessed with a season of perfection. There’s no greater joy for a director than to be able to sit in the audience and simply enjoy their creation, and aside from a few sound issues on the second night, that’s what I was able to do.
Well…there was that one time when my lead actress flubbed her lines and expressed undying love for her partner’s shoes, but she actually played it off rather well.
So what now, after that period of stress and hard work? I’m thinking of a long holiday on the sea. I do have that friend with the connections in Melbourne outboard motor repair, so the broken-down old boat I have tethered at the harbour might sail once more. This particular friend owes me one, since I gave him and his friend free tickets to the premiere, including a glass of champagne and a meet-and-greet with the cast afterwards. I might just drop him a line, ask if my boat can’t be fixed.
I was given the thing long ago by a relative who inherited it and had no use for it. Haven’t thought much about it, but now, I feel like I must go out to sea, spend some time alone and recharge my creative energies. Perhaps I’ll meditate. Listen to a symphony. Read several screen-plays. Or maybe I could learn how to perform my own marine trailer repairs. Melbourne has to have someone who can teach me this. I’ve conquered the world of the arts, after all, and I have the stellar reviews to prove it. Shall I now learn the ways of the sea?