If yesterday was an awful, creatively draining day, today was just plain bizarre. I have spent the last hour composing a very long blog post detailing exactly what events led to today's spiritual breakdown, but unfortunately, the vampires in my head have poisoned that creative bit of nonfiction and I'm worried I will be certified insane if I post it without taking a couple of days to mull it over.
I'm not one for spiritual breakdowns. Emotional and mental breakdowns, all the time. But not spiritual. Well, today I've had one, or something that feels like one. It seems wrong to call whatever happened a breakdown, because I can't remember a time when massive internal destruction/creation felt so good.
I'm about to become completely incoherent, so bear with me and think of this as a teaser trailer for the rest of The Story of August 4th.
The plan for the day was to go to Barnes and Noble, come home, and work on the play until the evening's rehearsal.
The story of how I ended up dressed like a Polish widow, or how I terrorized my hometown's bookstores with my search for Joseph Campbell, or how I hope/fear that all reality will eventually devolve into epic storytelling, or finally, how a series of innocuous decisions led to Polly's truck exploding on the highway and the rehearsal being canceled due to everyone's sense of impending doom, is a story for another day.
Revelation of the day (one of many. This one had the least backstory to it): If we watch a character wash his enemy's feet, that's fucking biblical.
<3
I am really excited for that story. I was following your tweets with great interest.
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