I have seven minutes to write. It’s Friday morning but Friday doesn’t mean here what it means in the rest of the world. We’re working on Show Boat. We have a seventeen foot revolving platform we built for it and now that I have a couple spare minutes to write, I can’t remember anything I wanted to write about.

Oh, I know one of them. The moon. The past two months, I have been setting my life according to the lunar calendar - the waxing and waning of the moon. For obvious reasons, it feels like a much more natural pattern to base life around: rising and falling, filling and emptying, brightening and darkening. I have a widget installed on my Vista desktop which every time I open it the moon is set at a different angle. But based on the night sky, the fullness of it seems at least accurate. It’s hard to do anything here but make quick notes to myself for later on. Things about the religious roots of theatre and how stories acted out on a community scale bind groups of people together into the same dream structures, filling their heads with the same songs and symbols.

This is the second time a tick has crawled across my computer screen with its unmistakable silhouette and back markings. I bought a five dollar DVD set of the Adventures of Robin Hood TV series from the late fifties because it had an episode called “The Alchemist” followed by one called “The Jongleur”. The show is amazing and fills in all kinds of gaps of knowledge for me. Robin Hood, as a character, is so theatrical: always putting on disguises and coming up with elaborate tricks and ruses to fool people. I’m reminded of that dream I had weeks before I came here, about going to “ninja school.” My seven minutes are up. Peace.