The Overture (an explanation)

You don't like overtures. No one does. In fact, many would argue the overture was introduced simply to give a theatre going audience a chance to finish that candy, call the babysitter, or finish their bout of mental masturbation to a hot actress with windblown plastic hair whose photograph appears in the program. Believe it or not, the overture has a purpose; introduce the central melodies and motifs of the show, and get people in the mood for a helluva night at the theatre. Modern productions of shows cut overtures and I don't like it. The audience is baptized head on into this world of the stage,not primed for it and eased into it. "Gypsy" has the perfect overture-its wildly shifting keys, jazzy brass, and urgent drums prepare us for a night of glittery, old-fashioned showbiz delight paired with shrewd, deeply felt backstage drama. My point is, if you are willing to actually LISTEN, a well-done overture eases your mind out of the daily grind and filters it into a new world-the one a dedicated cast and crew has worked hard to create for you. Plus, by the time you have finished the overture, you should have a pretty solid idea regarding exactly what world you will be entering-I don't think anyone listens to the opening notes of "Les Miserables" and expects gold hats and dancing chorus girls. So before I plunge you head for into MY weird world, I think you deserve an overture of sorts-or at least a warning of what you're getting into.
I am an actor, a writer, a singer. These are the things I do.
I love often and easily.
I eat frequently and unhealthily.
I dance rarely and terribly.
I think, all the time and generally about meaningless things.
I philosophize, endlessly and at length.
And most importantly, I change, minute by minute, breath by breath.
In this blog I will try to sort out my own life and attempt to point you, the flabbergasted reader, towards art that needs to be appreciated, or ideas that need to be spread.
Or sometimes I will just let my thoughts bleed onto cyber-paper as if they came directly from the slit throat of an innocent, white-tailed bunny.
We shall see.
End Overture.
Curtain up!