replace
THIRTY-THIRD NIGHT.
Tomorrow we’re going to disappear for three months, next to the sea somewhere maybe, and not answer any e-mails or attend any meetings or fill in any forms or ask anybody for money or make any schedules or look at calendars or write any copy or tell people what the show will be about or do some workshops or find an audience or tell them what it meant or report back on money granted to us or evaluate the worth of what we’ve done or propose what we’ll do next or worry about beauty versus usefulness or ask our Board if that’s too risky or plan out the next 3 years of our lives…
And we reckon we can pretty much guarantee that what comes out of that three months will be the best thing we’ve ever done and we will be able to rest easy and happy with our efforts and feel satisified at last that we’ve done something we’re happy with and so be full of energy to go back to answering e-mails and attending meetings and filling in forms and asking people for money and making schedules and looking at calendars and writing copy and telling people what it will be about and doing some workshops and finding some audiences and telling them what it meant and reporting back on the money we’re granted and evaluating the worth of what we’re doing and proposing what we’ll do next and worrying about beauty – and about usefulness – and asking our Board about risk and planning out the rest of our lives…
Made by Quarantine