Home. Finally. A day late.
My plane, leaving from Daytona on Delta, broke down on the runway. There was a problem with the throttle just moments before take-off. We taxied (with difficulty) back to the gate. We sat on a plane without air conditioning (lots of problems with tis aircraft). Finally they had us deplane and wait.
Connections were missed. The maintenance crew coming in from Orlando was not responding. After several hours (most of which I spent standing in line) I had a new reservation for the next morning out of Orlando (instead of my current location in Daytona) and arriving in Hartford (instead of my desired destination, Providence).
eventually, it worked out, and i arrived home a day late.
that's the travel story.
then there's the final night at the ACA...
A lot of people (a hundred or so), showed up to view the work we were showing. Composers, playwrights and visual artists. There was a lot of cool work being shown and heard. the evening began in the theater, and an hour or so later people wandered in and out of the other buildings to take in the various installations.
After the public was gone, the artists gathered in the music room, played tunes, danced, and hung out. Gradually we said our goodbyes. Some were leaving as early as 3:00 am and were scrambling to pack. Others, like myself, would be heading out in late morning.
On the first day one of the other playwrights - Dominic - remarked that three weeks was not the right length for a residency. Either two weeks or more than four. He said that it takes about three weeks to start feeling like you actually live there. He was right. It started feeling like I lived there, and that was the time we packed it all up and left. Weird. But true.