The Good:
- The archetype of the Festival weekend: perfect weather, many patrons. If the first five weekends had been like the last two….Wow–what could have been.
- The culmination of a successful first-year run of Bard’s Bouts. We ditched what didn’t work, changed some things regularly just to keep ourselves interested, made fans, and in the end, made it everything that we dreamed of doing while we had slogged through Court last year.
- Words of wisdom from
on Saturday night….who reminded me that while the experience changes, that is a good thing, because it allows us to evolve….and that although it seems rarer and rarer, there is still gold to be mined every year. - Words of welcome from
on Sunday night, congratulating us on our show, and welcoming us to circle of “stage shows that don’t suck.” That meant more than I can ever say….and that, in itself, is saying something, as words are my trade. - Walking back to the car last night, I looked up at a sky filled with light drifting clouds, radiant under the light of a nearly-full moon. For a moment, it could have been 1985, or 1993, or 1997…or 1597 for that matter. Felt good.
- Words of welcome from
The Bad:
- Saturday’s closing clusterfuck. The less said about it, the better….and even the E.D. recognized that it sucked, because they went ahead with a proper closing on Sunday.
- Vampires. Officially the one thing out there that was lamer than me.
The Ugly:
- Really only one thing, when you get right down to it. Yes, morale sucked, and yes, I have real problems with the direction this Festival is headed. None of that really matters in the end, though. The worst thing about this year was that for the most part, it made me feel old, broken, fat and unattractive. I couldn’t play like I wanted to play, I was in pain after every Festival day, and felt like the dumpy fat guy most of the time.
I realize that it’s pretty much up to me to change that, too. Still sucks to feel that way, though….because I’ve always thought that I was above such things.