Quote of the day: We are not here to question the possible, we are here to challenge the impossible.

We are not here to question the possible, we are here to challenge the impossible. In the science of today we become artists; in the art of today we become scientists. We design our world, we invent possibilities, we we teach, touch, and move. It is now that we can use the diversity of our talents to create intelligent, meaningful, and extraordinary work. –Natasha Tsakos

Natasha Tsakos’s TED talk.

Turning the computer off

Julian Beever. Google him. Now.

The irony of blogging about avoiding my computer has not escaped me. Today I took a five-hour sabbatical from my computer. The fact that this is noteworthy verges on pathetic, but that is the existence I have let myself slip into. Even though I work at a theater, I’m usually attached to a desk and a computer. Sometimes I swivel my chair around, prop my feet up on a neighboring chair, and open up a book or a read through a script, but even then my email beeps when new messages arrives. Some days I visit rehearsal or see a student production, but this is, at most, a couple hours away from the screen. That is the reality of a research/writing/editing oriented job in theater, and there is nothing that can be done about that. But that is only 40 hours a week.

I have never written a play by hand. I have started plays in notebooks. Actually I almost always start on paper, but then I quickly abandon the pen because it is too slow. Typing is faster and cleaner and more organized and more forgiving. I think it might be a problem. The first class I took in college was an 8am graphic design course. I quit after the first session and enrolled in drawing. I hated staring at the computer screen. I wanted to get dirty. Charcoals followed and, eventually, printer’s ink. I don’t have feeling in a small section of the middle finger of my left hand because I stabbed myself with a Chōkokutō Power Grip blade when I hit a knot in block I was carving. Maybe playwriting should result in at least a few papercuts?

My sister sent me a link to this CNN article a couple days ago: “Brain-Twitter project offers hope to paralyzed patients“:

Adam Wilson posted two messages on Twitter on April 15. The first one, “GO BADGERS,” might have been sent by any University of Wisconsin-Madison student cheering for the school team.

The brain-computer interface allows people to compose a tweet by focusing on the desired letter.

His second post, 20 minutes later, was a little more unusual: “SPELLING WITH MY BRAIN.”

Wilson, a doctoral student in biomedical engineering, was confirming an announcement he had made two weeks earlier — his lab had developed a way to post messages on Twitter using electrical impulses generated by thought.

That’s right, no keyboards, just a red cap fitted with electrodes that monitor brain activity, hooked up to a computer flashing letters on a screen. Wilson sent the messages by concentrating on the letters he wanted to “type,” then focusing on the word “twit” at the bottom of the screen to post the message.

It seems like only a matter of time until twittering a letter at a time evolves into full sentences in an instant. Plug a wireless chip into the back of our brais, and we’re posting online. Reverse the direction and we’ll have emails beamed directly into an inbox in our mind. I am not catastrophizing. I think it’s great. But I don’t think I’ll sign up. During my five-hour sabbatical, I called talked to two dear friends on the phone for an hour; in a spiral-bound multi-drawing notebook, I wrote out the biographies of three characters I am creating; I read a few chapters of Pride and Prejudice; I took a nap with my cats. Next weekend maybe I’ll try for six hours. After we find an apartment and Craigslist is not a requisite daily activity, maybe I will avoid my computer completely on Sundays.

Yes. I think that would be lovely.

Hulk Smash: Needlessly inflammatory response emails.

Oh me, oh my. What a Monday it has been. My Artistic Director apparently did a radio interview recently, causing an influx of submissions. Unfortunately, our submission policy is rather strict because we do not have a literary manager, so the majority of my responses were simply, “Thank you for your interest. Send it through your agent.”

Sometimes this response is not kindly received. I understand the frustrations of the vicious need-a-production-to-get-an-agent / need-an-agent-to-get-a production cycle, but, playwrights, keep your rage in check!

The following is an email thread from today that was so rude that I just had to circulate it around the office. We had a good baffled laugh. Playwrights don’t usually blacklist themselves so blatantly. I realize that it was not necessarily meant for my eyes: the use of third person seems to suggest that this particular playwright was attempting to vent to a friend or colleague. So the lesson here–in this age of email communication–always be sure to distinguish between the “forward” command and the “return” command!

From:
Sent: Saturday, November 15, 2008 4:23 AM
To: Dan Rubin
Subject:

To whom it may concern,
I would be grateful if you could advise me of your submission policies regarding
our new musical. . .

From: drubin@act-sf.org
To:
Date: Mon, 17 Nov 2008 11:59:22 -0800
Subject: RE:

Dear Mr.

Writers are urged to refer to A.C.T.’s production history for the types of plays A.C.T. produces, which emphasize powerful ideas expressed in muscular language. A.C.T. values theatricality, complexity, and richness and the immediate, visceral, and intellectual contact among writers, performers, and audiences that exists only in the theater.
A.C.T does not accept unsolicited scripts for consideration. Any writer with representation should submit his or her play through a literary agent. Submissions will also be accepted if accompanied by a letter of recommendation by a theater professional (i.e., an artistic director or literary manager at a professional theater), preferably one who is familiar with our organization.
This information can also be found on our website: http://www.act-sf.org/site/PageServer?pagename=about_opps_scripts

Sincerely,
Dan Rubin

From:
To: Dan Rubin <drubin@act-sf.org>
Date: Mon, 17 Nov 2008 15:51:11 -0800
Subject:

Looking at their past prductions I can see what he means by
muscular language.

Cat on a hot tin roof
Christmas Carol (mm…..Scrooge the ultimate Charles Atlas)
Sweeney Todd
High Society (for fuck sake)
Travels with my Aunt (double for fuck sake)

All just oozing with muscular fuck-all

From: drubin@act-sf.org
To
Date: Mon, 17 Nov 2008 16:14:09 -0800
Subject: RE:

Dear Mr. —

I wish you the best of luck finding a theater that shares your aesthetic opinion. Clearly, we are not it.

Sincerely,
Dan Rubin

From:
To: Dan Rubin <drubin@act-sf.org>
Date: Mon, 17 Nov 2008 16:21:11 -0800
Subject:

I think we can count this one as a miss.
Anyway it’s in San Francisco!!!

Needless to say, we are not planning on working with this gentleman, whether he sends his musical through an agent or not.