EFFable

EFFable.
Meaning "easily explained," and also, "fuckable."
A play on gods, devils, and sex.

I can't believe it's already the end of March. What happened? Where have I been?

March has been an incredibly revolutionary month. Like all of last summer, it's been full of highs and lows.

I did my show EFFable at Random Acts. It was meant to be a one-off exercise. One night only! Never to be Repeated! Instead it has all spiralled wildly out of control, in the best possible way. I may now spend up to a year or more working on just this piece alone, performing it at the Solocentric festival in May, and perhaps a broader life beyond that...

Several things happened that I had not expected:

1. I made my writing partner mad at me (mostly because I let him know at the last minute that he was my writing partner...but honestly, I didn't know much earlier than he did.) At any rate, now that the show is developing a further life, I now have a Writing Partner: a Collaborator, which I have never had before.

2. The show was part of an ongoing Scandale that is Random Acts. Artists are invited to submit, and told that there will be a $2500 Emerging Artist prize for one artist and one artist only. After the fact, most of the artists are informed that they were never eligible to win the $2500 in the first place, because they were already considered to have "emerged."

The definition of "Emerging Artist" is hotly debated every year. It was decided this year that it applied to anyone who had ever worked in a professional capacity. A friend of mine had been up for the prize but was disqualified as being "too professional" despite the fact that he was not a member of the Actors' Association - Equity - and had never written a play before. There was the misconception that because he had been hired as a professional actor in the past - years ago - that he must be a member of Equity. He has never made his living professionally entirely as an actor nor a writer.

Another friend was also considered for the prize, rightly so, as she was clearly the audience favourite and had worked her ass off on this project, something very close to her heart. But she was similarly disqualified, despite the fact that a $2500 award would have meant allowing her the time to finish this very marketable and timely, brilliant work of art, and would have prevented her from having to take a full time job at the phone company just to make ends meet. She also has a family that demand part of her attention, and commitments like regular people.

For anyone who is not an artist, a full time job at a phone company really does preclude one from having the time to write properly. There is somehow a misconception that brilliant art is something one can accomplish anytime, between making rounds of toast, while on the toilet, or in five minutes before bedtime. It just isn't so. No one would ask a brain surgeon or a lawyer to do his little brain surgery/legal hobby after working 40 hours a week at a mind-numbing job at the phone company and expect them to do their best.

At any rate, on the jury, passions run high, and judges are frustrated and suffering in their decisions. One jury member had gone out of his way to fight for my piece, which I could have told him was a fruitless exercise. Last year, despite never having written and performed a solo show before, I was already considered to have "emerged" and so I had no hope of unemerging this year. Nontheless, I now have a "mentor," which I have never had before.

3. A man in the audience, a Buddhist Actuary as it turns out, is sitting at a table during my show. His companion knocks over a beer bottle giving me an opportunity to rib the audience a bit. The next day I receive a phone call from a friend of mine who had been working the event. Buddhist Actuary had approached her, raving about how much he loved my show, and did she know me, and etc. etc. The next day there is a message for me at the box office: "I didn't spill the beer. I loved your show, and thought you were cute," with a name and number attached. This has also never happened to me before. If ever I thought someone would fall in love with me during a show, I never would have thought it would be for playing myself. Part of the joy of being an actor is being spared the agony of being yourself for a few hours. Or at least being a better, much improved version of yourself that is confident and knows exactly what to say and exactly what they want. At any rate, this is a new unexpected experience for me too.

4. Ah, and one more development comes out of the whole play experience, that is truly ineffable, and so I will not attempt to put it into words here. Some things will remain secret, even here where I divulge all secrets. (but if you come closer, I may whisper it in your ear) At any rate, it is also something that has never happened to me before. Actually, it involves several things that have never happened to me before. Entirely eventful. Mind-waking, eye-opening, profound.

The pattern of my life emerges, and as ineffable as it is, it is nonetheless...visible, in a sense.

I may finally be able to move.

More about Calgary and our impending amicable separation later.

- Falcon
ps I did a test where you find out what kind of dog you are. I am in fact not a Maltese, it turns out, but a Dalmation. Which is much to my relief. I don't much care for Malteses, although Maltezers have always been a favourite.