Born Against

Damn it's late and I'm tired. Knackered. This disease I have of artmaking is sometimes overwhelming. There is one day left before the set for PYT is disassembled and shipped out. That is a serious undertaking. There are only 16 hrs available for installation, I am already burned out. You would think at a time like this a klaxon would scream in my head announcing the end of creativity and the beginning of get it done now. It never ever does. There is a moment when this happens to me. it is the moment when it needs to happen and never a moment before that. I love it here, it is trench warfare, it is where the juice happens, it is the flavor. Tomorrow there are a long list of props to be constructed, today I revised their design because they will be better if....so it'll be another big day. Funny really, when I'm in this thing, this countdown, I am at war with something, sometimes convention, sometimes aesthetic, or something else. This time it's simply the show. These last hours will make the show better and the gravy will flow. I hate being here and I love being here, it is a struggle, it is lonely, it is exhausting. It is a joy, it is surprising, it is rewarding. The paradox is that when I'm in it I can't wait to get out of it, but when it's over I always look forward to the next time, the next battle. It is a war to me, a war against mediocrity, against commonplace, against boring. I deserve this job of set design and construction, and of artist, because I am born to be it. I am first and foremost a maker.