In the Middle

It has been six weeks since our mighty yellow big top arrived in Paris. In that time we have performed 30 shows to both rave and crushing reviews. We questioned the show, ourselves, and each other.

And we rehearsed...

We rehearsed, and rehearsed, and rehearsed...

We rehearsed to the point of sending the director packing because we just couldn't take it anymore.

There have been outbursts. There have been triumphs. And there most certainly have been losses.

Paris has been one helluva ride.

I'm not sure if its worth it to go back and write about all the things that have happened so far. In a sense, yes, because there were some trying times. But for the most part I've already summed up our first weeks in Paris nicely. There was a great deal of doubt, insecurity, and constant change. So much so that all of us in the troupe became utterly exhausted. Finally, we decided to leave well enough alone. Which is to say, we told the director to piss off. Now the show has begun to live. So there you go.

There are certainly a few points that I personally feel the need to address, but the drama? I know it can be exciting to read about, but I've had my fill and am ready to move on. But don't worry about it too much. I'm sure there will be plenty more to write about soon enough.

That's what happens when your life is a circus.