Today's Muse: Nibble Nibble - The High Point Of Work-a-Day

The more interesting things get, the less I have to say.

Here, that is. If I run into you on the street, I'd talk your ear off. There are just some stories best told in person.

But I want to tell you. I want to share everything that's been going on - the rude jokes I've heard, the people I've met, the accidents I keep getting into. I want to hear you laugh at some of these stories, because I know you'll love them. I want to see you roll your eyes when you hear about how I manage to get hit in the eye with fucking confetti. I want to show you the script I've got here for school; talk to you about the ideas we've got for transitions, and if we're in the dance studio how we're completely screwed. I want to show you the books I found in the bargain bin.

I'm seeing a pattern with the last couple of posts; are you?



I'm working on The Little Company's The Gingerbread Man, for free. I like to think of it as experience gathering. Ma calls it exploitation.

It's ridiculously fun, whether it's watching the cast work, or repairing props, or listening to the tech team chatter over cans while waiting for the house to fill. The past week had me falling into bed still dressed in stage blacks, but now the show has more or less fallen into some sort of rhythm. Some of the people involved - both cast and crew - are already moving on to other projects while GBM is still playing, with people dashing off after the performances to attend readings or auditions or what-not.

It's been a hoot. They're a vivacious, open lot. Even though I'm not getting paid or extra credit for this, I'm definately getting more out of this than I did from the Mediacorp thing. It helps that I actually know why I'm here, what I can do, and what I can't do I can learn. It's... fwoosh bish-bosh-whee!

There is no wing space at the DBS Arts Centre. Throw in the set with the high platform, the poky mousehole and whatnot - ppfft. You practically have to press yourself against the walls, and hope you don't trip any cables or buttons.

They throw a lot of stuff offstage. Eee-hee.

And the kids! They're pretty much part of the show. Oh, some of the answers they yell back. Today's audience was especially sweet - shushing Cuckoo during his song because the other characters were napping.

And there's no subsitute for that moment in the wings, in the dark, the house holding its collective breath, just before lights go up and tick-tick-tick starts the show...


Hungry rehearsals go slowly. The more we delve into the play the more complex things seem to get. Are we in over our heads? Sometimes it feels like that. Are we going about preparing for this show in the right way?

Are the stakes high enough?

Sometimes it feels like a solid "No."


This house ought to have more cake. That would make everything loads better.