Yesterday I met with a friend of a friend at the Olive Tree Cafe, drinking endless cups of tea, walking to the bathroom through a comedy club, and we ate for hours while groups of people – designers, directors, public health advocates – came in and out. It was like a salon, or like the way I remember the Cat and Fiddle in LA. We discussed the marriage of two of them – the bride is going to carry her wedding dress on the 7 train to the actual ceremony.
By the end of it, we had all talked about the difficulty of separating art from life, including the usual digression on Heath and Method and Batman, and I had persuaded a director and an actor to read some scenes from my work-in-not-even-progress, the two-character realistic play that is so unlike me but I don’t seem to be able to stop writing.
I would really like to collaborate with someone (perhaps this actor, or others) on a general-interest theory of acting article. I’m very unqualified to write it. I just think it needs to be written.
And I have finally learned to end hanging out early enough to take my trains early enough to be home by midnight.
Today I have a meeting with another friend-of-a-friend that is my first real New York theater meeting, at a diner near Times Square. Should be interesting.