I should plug my dates. My three dates before I go into some kind of creative panic spiral to generate the new stuff, if I can find it within me. I will be in Iowa City for the Mission Creek Festival at the Englert Theater on April 8th, at the Rococo Theatre in Lincoln, Nebraska on April 9th, and on at the Arvest Bank Theatre at The Midland in Kansas City, Mo. on April 10th. I will be starting a Tuesday night residency at the Trepany House at the Steve Allen Theater here in LA beginning in May going through April.
I hope to take a little respite between ending the shooting of ‘Maron’ and immersing myself in the standup but we’ll see. I feel like I should. I’d like to take six months off but I don’t know how to do that. I’m a little fragmented. My brain is a bit fried. I’m concerned that I won’t be able to create or come up with anything new. I feel like I’ve done all that I can and I’m tapped. I feel like this whenever time opens up in front of me. It’s the dread of not being able to fill it with summoning the new thoughts. I am fueled by the panic of creativity.
I think I am experiencing pre-emptive postpartum depression for the end of the shoot. When you shoot a show you get very close with the crew and the collective collaboration of making a show. It is your whole life for months. Then, it just stops. This is the final week. We wrap Wednesday and then it’s back to the life of the mind, facing the responsibilities of the day-to-day, getting organized, figuring out what is next and working on the edits. It’s looking good.
My cat shit in my pants today. They were on the floor. I have never seen a more direct demand for me to change the litter.
On Monday I talk to the charismatic and intense Michael Rapaport. Good times. On Thursday I finally do an hour with my friend Ryan Singer. We talk about it all.