The Black Christian
Blacken trod the rain splashed souls,
Amber throbs the heart within.
Opener of darkened doors.
Look Out for Meat and Potatoes at The Lookout!
Kelly Dermody discovers that nothing goes better with protein and carbohydrates than a heaping helping of comedy.
Ghost Light Theatricals’ Freak Storm
Playwright Don Fleming has put a very Washingtonian spin on Shakespeare’s The Tempest. Setting his adaptation, Freak Storm, in the Cascade mountains, replacing Caliban with Sesquath (yes, like ‘Sasquatch’), and exploring modern concerns for issues of environmental sustainability and stewardship of nature, the dramatist has taken a number of liberties in regionalizing and reframing the famous story while, for the most part, preserving the dramatic framework of the source material.
Simon always felt that he grew up among giants and geniuses, as if he were a reverse-superman sent from a small and mild planet.
Nobody knew the things about you that I knew. I knew where you were that time when you called and asked if I knew where you were. I said I didn’t, but I did. The connection was good enough that I didn’t even have to pretend it sounded like a local call and not like a call from London.
In the Land of Make/Believe: tEEth Bring Their Magic to On the Boards
Using the barest of elements in extraordinary combinations, Make/Believe produces visually and sonically striking imagery that grows and grows in intricacy, the way that music grows from the simplicity of a heartbeat, or language itself grows from scratches and dots on a Sumerian jar. Make/Believe is a succession of gorgeous images revolving around the idea of what it means to communicate, not only with others but also with oneself–or what one takes oneself to be.
Jimmy Brewster’s hands were pulsating with steely warmth the day he woke up dead.
Yeah, It’s Me; But It’s Also You, Seattle: An Interview with Emerald City‘s S.P. Miskowski
José Amador talks with S.P. Miskowski, the playwright responsible for the upcoming Emerald City, which receives its World Premiere production at Fremont’s West of Lenin.
Spine of a Dog
Spine of a dog curves away from me and against, as heat
of a tired dog warms my skin through my sweater, through his fur.
He lies, front paws matched, chin tucked alongside them, neat.
One still beast; one, antsy with pen at arm’s end, cramming
the months and years and lives with rehearsals, games, dinners—
Mike Daisey’s The Agony and Ecstasy of Steve Jobs at Seattle Rep: Metaphor Shifts
“And we will hurt nobody for the love of money We can find our way without so much pain” — from “Exodus Honey”…
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