i am writing my circus act. the way i like to do things like this is to sit down for half an hour and force myself to write nonstop for the whole time. no matter what comes out. i used to do it with pen and paper, but my hands would cramp up and my head would get so much farther than my hands would that i felt like i was slipping away from myself and losing information and not getting as far as i could. now i use the computer because i type much faster than i write. when i’m done, i read what i’ve written a few times and choose about 5 concepts, maybe more, maybe less, that still stand out for me. those little phrases or thoughts or ideas, i then transfer into a notebook reserved for that, and after a year or two, i have an act or a play or what have you.
i like is the idea of a character living outside of time, living as if frozen as if caught in a yellowing photograph from the beginning of the 1900’s. i have the image of a figure in a bowler or derby style hat in a tailcoat covered in dust. with every step a cloud billows up from the antique, straight lines of his silhouette. there could be acrobatic moves, each one of which, however, might end up in a stylized very formal sort of pose. a suitcoat with tails that someone might have been buried in fifty years ago.
maybe this first incarnation of the number is going to be a dark one. a tragic one. no sense of redemption. a death. a dysfunction. a descent. a decadence. a destruction and a loss. there will be pain in my character, and a promise of redemption, but one that is never achieved, never realized.
something fitted and formal in the setting of a circus ring. could be powerful, useful. fixed motions, like a rotating one-armed handstand.