The sun is slanting in through the salmon pink venetian blinds and a tree (of unspecified race and gender) nodding outside the window of my New York buddies Kiran & Andre's upper-West-side apartment. It is a canonically beautiful mid-summer day here and even though the sun is, for me, NOT a friendly entity (I have an on-again off-again sun-allergy), I can appreciate it here much more than I can in Dilli the Grilli.
I am recovering sloooowly from my cold, have had my first re-acquaintance with the NYC subway system and yesterday saw my first rehearsal of HARVEST at NYU's TISH (sp? Not sure) Centre. Erin B Mee, the director is like a high tension wire in human form -- she crackles with positive energy. Her team is warming up to their task: it is a strange thing for me, watching the play YET AGAIN -- seeing all the familiar moments, recognizing them in yet another interpretation, trying to disengage my last impressions from the newest ones ... all that stuff. Three of the principle characters are Indian, the mother is Philipino and the primary guard is Greek.
The set has been designed to be extremely cramped, to provide a visual reference to the constraints under which the family lives. I like that.
One of the earliest ideas I had for a set design was a cage constructed out of iron struts, with the family boxed in and visible from all sides.
And Amro, as for walking off the fuel-intake -- basically, forget it, okay? Obviously you have the metabolism of a five year old child. I, on the other hand, have the metabolism of a camel. I was apparently built to survive in desert conditions for months without food or water, without feeling much distress because I DO walk around and I do sweat/feel tired etc but I DO NOT lose weight!! So the only alternative, other than becoming a blimp, is to avoid eating anything I don't absolutely HAVE to. It is SO annoying. *ANGRY SIGH*