The most significant thing I can say at this point is I’ve let myself go astray from my original drive to undertake this work through my preferred theoretical avenues. It’s funny.  It’s certainly ironic.  I’ve become the word guy because my most pressing desire is to explore what in the theatre might be seen as unscriptable. My trauma, my delirium, my ghost, my fatality, they all involve my experiences working in a fashion in which what is unspeakable in the spoken is what takes the focus, in which enigmatic events unfold and ask to be newly assimilated. It’s pretty much my wordless mystical core. It’s a set of sentinel events.

I’m attempting to formulate strategies for negotiating through such unspeakable intensities, and I have eschewed conventional psycho-physical performance languages revolving around “the body” in an effort to find new things.

Hard to do in a blog. Not impossible, though. My approach involved focusing on the activity we were engaged in: we were all imagining events and choosing words to describe those events. What might be enigmatic and unscriptable in that? In our attempts to write? In an effort to get at it, I couldn’t stay within the scenario we were describing. In the absence of intensities playing out in a physical space, I explored possible intensities lurking in our writing. And I used the same “psychoanalytic methods” I was interested in employing in work in an actual space.

Problem is, I couldn’t successfully transmit my ways of strategizing and “interpreting.” I began to stand in a corner and try to talk my way out. Still not practical enough. I need to offer more than a mindset.

There. I think others may see my stretches of being “rational” as endpoints and, therefore, not in service of fruitful creativity. But they’re certainly not meant to be endpoints. Back to my memories of the unspeakable. I must hold that in view. The mystical vision.