Wil Greenway: The Winter After Spring (WIP)

That thing you live inside of: that skin made bag of bones and lungs and muscles and fat, it is so finite. It’s a contract your parents signed on your behalf on the day you were born. This too shall pass. And so every year you blow out those candles with pride. Grateful and alive. Another trip around the sun. The Winter After Spring is an uncertain hour about an uncertain time, at a certain time (7:20pm). I'm kind of convinced that we've wrecked the joint, but we still have to live here. Raise our kids here. I'm afraid of what our planet will look like in ten years. But I'm still going to school pick-up with a smile. I'm still going to see a band now and then. I'm pretending it's OK. I'm not sure if that is what this show will be about when August comes around, but I'd say that's at least one of the smelling notes if not the entire flavour. This show is less ""Work in Progress"", and more WORK IN PROGRESS! if you know what I mean? I'm writing it now, and in August I'll be reading what I've written. I'll rock up to the theatre and put on my favourite songs while the audience files in and I'll pretend the world isn't ending. Maybe I'll see you there.