New Rules

So. A few years ago we started this play and then this blog and due to technical difficulties one of the playwrights was unable to continue. So.

It's been sitting going nowhere. I'm not sure what will happen to the play. Probably best to let it go and start another. Or just use this space for my own. For the time being I'll be playing around with ideas - maybe posting a daily writing or art exercise. We'll see what transpires. I mean it's hard to leave this blog behind - such a great title!

Woman

Raw silk. Yes. My favorite.

(smells his cardigan)

Do you...?

Man (dismayed)

Oh my. Oh my, oh my, oh my. I didn't expect . . . I can't promise you . . . I certainly never meant to . . .

(Hetakesoff his cardigan and drapes it over her bare shoulders. Then he picksupher shirt covered in red lipstick, closes his eyes and bringing it closetohis face, inhales deeply. After a moment, he opens his eyes again.)

Yes it is.

Woman: (bursts into tears)

A vacation of a lifetime? I'm not good with pressure. I've disappointed anyone who's ever expected anything of me. This is such an act of faith. It's only fair- It's only right that- You should know- You should know the truth-

(pause)

I'm selfish. I'm self-absorbed. I don't match my reds. I can't tolerate ignorance. I forget to say thank you. I give advice when I don't know what the hell I'm talking about. I'm churlish and vain. I'm allergic to wheat, soy, eggs, nightshades, dairy, and nuts. I can't stand being alone, but I hate being smothered. I prefer Mingus to Parker. I masturbate with the lights on. I can't tolerate ignorance. I finish other people's sentences. I don't give a damn about global warming.
I'm needy. I'm fragile. I'm falling apart. Unravelling. Heartbroken. I'm on the run. Looking for shelter. I'm never on time. I'm liar and a betrayer. I could go on, but it would only lessen your opinion of me.

(breaks down and can't hold back)

I don't shower as often as I might! There, I said it, it's out. I would love to believe in something. To be swept up in a great passion.

(reaches in her purse and pulls out a tube of lipstick)

I'm doing this now, so there will be no secrets between us.

(takes off her shirt, writes)

Yes. Yes. Yes.

(speaks as she writes more yeses)

For whatever pathologies or proclivities or illusions bring us together. Yes.

MAN

It's rather embarassing, but I'm trying to overcome my fear of flying, and someone, I won't say who, except to note that she is a highly qualified individual, recommended that I plan a fictional vacation and come to the airport on occasion to put myself at ease. You know, to simply expose myself to people who are about to board or have just deboarded an airplane. So that I might...gain some confidence by my proximity to others who are choosing to fly of their own free will. (pause) But it's not working. It only makes me more anxious really. You've probably already noticed that I'm perspiring even though the air conditioning is working perfectly well in here. I've come here a total of forty-three times now and never until this moment did it occur to me that I should actually do it. Not just pretend to be here for a vacation, but really go on a vacation. You know, actually board an airplane and see what happens. So you see, here we both are, watching other people rush to and fro to make their flights or meet their loved ones who have just arrived, and I was thinking...Simply put, I'm asking if you want to join me on the vacation of a lifetime. What do you say?

(written by Susan, March 10, 11:37 pm)

Woman

Why no. What do you have in mind?

(Written by E., Feb, 2006, day and time unknown)

MAN

Miracle or no miracle, I need help and I need it now. Do you...do you have plans tonight?

(Written by S., Feb, 24, 2006, 1: 37 am)

Woman

Oh, it does. It really does. But one can't expect miracles, eh?

(Written by E., date and time unknown)

MAN

No. Does it work? All's Well That Ends Well, I suppose.

(Written by S., Feb, 24, 2006, 1: 37 am)

WOMAN

Have you tried colon therapy?

(written by E. Wednesday, Jan 11, 2006)

MAN

I always come here thinking it will make me feel better, but it always ends up making me feel worse. Will I ever learn?

written by S. on Jan 11, 2006, 11:37 pm)

Playwrights' Notes

When we first started this play, we did it via email. Today we thought we might try blogging it. I wasn't able to create individual postings on each response which explains some of the postings.

Our intention is to make our responses more frequent. With the potential for an audience, the pressure is on.

The exercise is this- I write a line and publish it, then my partner writes her response and does the same. A new twist to the surrealist game "The Exquiste Corpse."

Carry on!