Theatre Of Death

Going to meet the director again at the Playhouse tomorrow to see if we can work out how to re-organise the play. I've spent the last week cutting it into different narrative strands. Because it's a docudrama it's hard to know what to leave out, so in the first draft I left everything in.

Last week, in the empty twilight of the Courtyard Theatre (the only room we could get) we agreed narrative headings, then started having a sort of paper fight as we tried to take bits of the play out and put them in the new headings. But no matter how fast we were throwing bits of paper at each other, the paper mountain play didn't seem to be getting any smaller. "Fuck this," said Al, "let's do it on computer."

It was then I noticed that nearly all the upturned seats had names on 'In memory of ... ' etc. Like rows and rows of tombstones. Never noticed that before, well you wouldn't would you? Unless it was your Jack you were sitting on, so to speak - talk about dying on stage.