My thesis has closed. It’s dead, it’s done. The play, though I hope it goes on to have a plethora of further productions, will never exist in the same way it did, in that silly studio in Boston in late April, early May.
I spent a week without sleep perfecting every square inch of it.
And we struck it in an hour and a half.
So that’s something to think about.
I put a monumental amount of work into my thesis. Of course I did – who doesn’t? It’s been on my mind for months, not to mention all of the hours of manual labor during production week and every single second of the rehearsal process in between. And – hopefully – now I get to do that again for another project. And then another. And another. And another. Until, I don’t know, it just becomes my life? What I’m saying is… I realized through my thesis process that this project was not the end. That it was never the end. This project was actually only the beginning.
Maybe that’s sappy. Maybe that’s also because I was directing my first full-length production, and directing is pretty much what I want to be doing for the rest of my life. So I begun my real, tangible journey as a director. It could also be because this was a project that I produced as well as directed, and it feels more in line with the type of work I’ll be doing in the next few years. I’m not sure what it is.
I’m not sad, though, at all. I really thought I would be but I’m not. I’m relieved and I’m grateful and I’m proud but I’m not sad.
Because this is only the beginning.