In our final hours here, the sky has returned to the drooping Cloud City mush that greeted us at the airport six weeks ago. I was wondering if the low-hanging mist was just an illusion created by the mountains -- if the clouds only looked low relative to these mountains I don't normally get to see. But I don't think so. The cast was going to go up the tramway today, which might still be fun, sliding through the haze to the top of Mt. Roberts. I gave my spare tram pass to Renee when she was out to visit us last week.
Our closing double-header yesterday went very well. I don't know what I'm feeling right now. There have been so many endings to this project. The first was back in August 2003 when we finished slapping together a Kennedy Center reading. Then Denver. Then Round House. Now Perseverance. And soon, Seattle, Anchorage, and Valdes. More than any other show I've done, I'd really like to see this one. I'm sure when a New York theatre picks it up and re-casts the whole thing, I'll get to. But PJ was definitely weaving a composition greater than anything I could see from my vantage point. I know this because I often didn't understand it -- script work aside. In the second act, three massive gunshots yank me and Will out of the spotlight and propel the audience into an audio verite recording of the Jefferson County 911 call. That's the hinge, right there. Boom, boom, BOOM -- and we warp from fantasy land, fact inspired storytelling, right into the fray. I'm spinning on my heal with a shotgun in my hand at that point and a couple people in the front row always jump on that sound cue. Too frickin' real.
Why can't we go to Denver? That's what I want right now. I've mentioned this before, but now that we're packing up the ensemble and stripping away the tech for our Pacific NW tour in June, all I want is to be a part of the show's homecoming. The New Yorkers can have their version. But the seven days I spent in Denver last March did more for my soul than anything since. So strange: I joined the project just after it started and I'll be leaving just before it's "done." Arrive late, leave early -- like a good writer should. But as an actor, it feels incomplete.
Today I'm tired from post-show farewell partying and the prospect of saying goodbye to a dozen or so new friends in as many hours. Stay tuned, though. As soon as I get my digital photos scrubbed, I'll use this page as an online album or something. That way I won't spend three hours with each of you, cycling through the same stack of pics and talking your ear off when I get back. I hope all is well on the East Coast. To all you crazy folk opening Behold! at Rorschach, break a leg. I trust previews went well and Mr. Hesla's premiere is coming along nicely. To all you smarty-pants artists closing Hannah and Martin this week -- I can't wait to see your show at the J when I get back.