Blog: Johanna Nutter and the Journey of My Pregnant Brother (Part IV)

Six

I was hazed by a crow on the way to the theatre. All the way there, it kept diving at me; swooping within an inch of my head. I finally stopped and asked the bird; how did you know? Yeah: it’s opening night. I had to go to the theatre earlier because I had “somehow” forgotten to put aside two tickets for my mum and my brother. Who are both coming tonight.  Back in Montreal, Jeremy and I had a discussion about this, and we agreed that they could come on any night BUT opening. We figured I should crack the ice at the Cultch before I had to skate over such fragile territory. But once I got here, I just decided that they have both waited long enough. So… here we go.

I don’t think I can really write anything coherent right now, so I’ll just show you some pictures:

This is a picture of our final freestanding production meeting in the attic apartment sublet I found on craigslist. You can see the whole city from the window by the bed. It is a really lovely space, with a garden out back and it’s only a 15-minute walk to the Cultch. Watch out for crows.

This is my brother, James, and Jeremy Taylor; director, dramaturg, and johanna-wrangler. They are getting along famously. My brother is being exceedingly witty and so is Jeremy. It’s like watching pro tennis, if you like that sort of thing. The food on the table was served to us by Cameron, who you can’t see, but who educated us on the difference between pints and sleeves and who later turned out to be the first person we met at the Cultch: he is one of the performers in CHAIRS, described as “Waiting for Godot meets Judd Apatow”. Small world, East Van. I’m looking forward to seeing that show.

And here’s the Cultch. It’s beautiful. And so are the Neanderthal Peoples, who not only found us the necessary flats to draw the mountain on, they got us paint, too.

And here we are painting them.

While we waited for the paint to dry, we walked around the ‘hood, known as The Drive, and tried to hand out some flyers. We mostly just played around on the street, which was fun. We also had the best samosas in the world, recommended the night before by my brother, in one of the many many organic food stores on the street (seriously, there’s one on every block). I have to say, it’s really nice here. I didn’t really know this side of Vancouver. It feels a little like Montreal. Only healthier. 

Then we went back to the Cultch and did our tech. It went well. It always does. That’s the advantage of having a show that consists of some chalk and a chair; it’s easy to load in. And our one lighting cue is pretty flexible, too. Done.

Now, I just have to remember to breathe, and remember that there will be lots of people in the audience who just want to hear a good story. 

On the wall of the bathroom here in the attic are these words, by Ralph Waldo Emerson:

What lies behind us and what lies before us 

are tiny matters compared to what lies within us.