by Cameryn Moore
I’ve waxed lyrical about the emotional feeling of home, my need for relationships and interconnectedness out here on the road, my burning desire to seek out peers who are also wrestling with the tough issues of life and art and the intersection thereof. I’ve written about all that stuff at length, and I will do so again. Those things are no less important for being intangible.
this shit, if you’re doing it right, is actual physical workIt is this part of Fringing that I forget from year to year. I think audiences aren’t really thinking about it, either. They see us out there, drinking beer and being sunny and cheerful while chatting up the lines and wearing cool costumes, and yes, from the outside it looks like a non-stop parade of fun. But this shit, if you’re doing it right, is actual physical work, and we artists are never quite able to catch up, in spite of our best efforts and intentions.
At two in the morning lots of things sound good. That’s what sleep deprivation will do to you. Thank god that most Canadian Fringe festivals AREN’T like Montreal, where the after-hours party starts at 1am, every fucking night. Thank god that most Fringe festivals have a few breather days in between, so that yes, you can arrive at the next Fringe and put up your posters, but you will actually have a couple of days when you can just sleep. And I bitch about having to be on call while I tour, but THANK GOD FOR THAT, because since there aren’t usually many calls coming in between 10am and 3pm Eastern time, that means that, if I really have to, I can close my eyes for a bit with the phone by my head. It is externally enforced nap time. We need it, every now and then.
Cameryn Moore's slut (r)evolution is at the Ottawa Fringe