Opened the show in Montreal yesterday, and it is well into its 20s... 21 or 23? I need to go back and count. But it's finally out of the house, and if not entirely self-sufficient, it can certainly stand on its own two feet.
I'm joking a little, but it's true that at this point there is a show there that I step into, rather than something I have to muster each night. It is a being in and of itself, an adult that I can have a conversation with. It is alive and breathing and filled with surprising ideas, opinions, jokes, mistakes, twists, and turns.
As I was packing for tour in April, I came upon this telling tableau. I had been chatting with a friend about the boxes of fake hands and feet that I keep in my room because I know I'll need them for props, and it struck me as endlessly amusing that one should crop up next to this helpful guide to being an adult. Obviously - as a person harboring boxes of pretend appendages - I still need a physical guide to adulting. In my defense, the brown book is one of my volumes of the Complete Works of Shakespeare. I may be a still-trying-to-grow-up-eccentric but at least I am a cultured still-trying-to-grow-up-eccentric.
The point is, growing is constant. I'll keep evolving and changing, and so will my show, and I'm so, so excited to grow and change alongside it.