Well, THAT week sucked.
Making this week all the more frustrating for me – on top of all the appalling, civilization-destroying news elements – was the fact that I didn’t have anywhere to channel my frustrations. I’m not in rehearsals for anything at the moment, and I’ve finished and submitted the major plays I’d been working on. I’m doing preliminary research for the next writing project – which basically means reading a very very long book during my daily commute. It’s dull and boring work in the middle of a terrifying and exciting time, and it can’t help but make a person feel isolated. The world’s falling apart, and I’m at my keyboard trying to put some sort of project together but don’t yet know what, and I feel completely alone.
Now, a one-act of mine is being read at the Naked Angels Tuesdays at 9 reading series, and since the next installment is scheduled for tomorrow I did spend Sunday evening making a few tweaks to the draft. As I’ve mentioned before, my Sunday night writing sessions are usually spent with WQXR’s “Old School” in the background, because I lead the most boring life imaginable. Or at least, that’s how they were spent – sometime over the summer, the program was pulled from the rotation, and I’d be drafting the blog posts without the benefit of baroque concerto grossi and Renaissance dances to soothe my frazzled soul.
This Sunday, however, I tuned in to find “Old School” back on the station. And not only that, but the host thanked everybody for their concern at the show’s absence over the summer.
There are more of me.
There are an untold host of us – all of us working on who knows what, be they artistic projects or other endeavors – who apparently get the same inspiration from the same niche radio program. And we are enough to get a radio station to change its programing.
I’m not alone after all.
It’s not much, but after this past week I’ll take it. From such tiny seeds are mighty movements born.