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As of Friday the 13th -- surely an auspicious date, though I'm not sure auspicious of what -- I'm an officially registered actor in the 16th annual Last Frontier Theatre Conference. You can tell I'm official: my name tag says so and everything!

At the moment, not much is going on, so I thought I'd take the opportunity to catch up on some writing. I want to keep as detailed a journal of this week as I can, complete, or possibly replete, with photos, both for my benefit and memory and for the benefit of those who can't be here. And, yes, maybe as a way of selling how totally awesome the conference is to the folks at CMU, in the hopes that we can convince the administration that it would be worth sending a group next year.

Yesterday was an adventure, but most of the day is difficult to write about. Driving 300 miles in a 19-foot RV through Alaskan scenery and Alaskan weather (including hail while the sun was shining) over Alaskan frost heaves and Alaskan gravel is pretty exciting from the driver's perspective, but not very interesting from a theatrical standpoint -- although I stand firm that it might be pretty interesting from a cinematic perspective. A year out of state has given me the chance appreciate the incredible beauty here with fresh eyes, and I'm snapping pictures like a tourist. Moreover, this was mostly new territory for me; the last time we drove this road we turned left in Glenallen and headed for Fairbanks, instead of right to Valdez. Plus, you know, it was December then, and nearly blizzarding, so visibility was not what you might call ideal.

Anyway. We arrived in Valdez at about 3:45 about driving about seven hours, and after a brief moment of panic at the community college ("Hi! I'm here for the theatre conference, and I was hoping to stay in the dorms here." ". . . Theatre conference?" ". . . Um. Yes?" "--Oh, that theatre conference!") we found the registration desk at the civic center, picked up the conference packet and all-important name tag, and got me settled into my dorm room (a full out suite with a kitchen, TV, computer, and phone!). My parents, brave and hardy souls that they are, turned right around and started the 300 mile drive back to Anchorage at about 5 PM, leaving me to unpack and wander until the first official event at 8 PM. (In defiance of friends and naysayers, Mom and Dad made it safely back home by 11 PM, meaning they had been on the road thirteen or fourteen hours and driven 600 miles in a day.) More friends from Anchorage began to roll in around 6:30.

The first official event was the commencement of Overnighters. Overnighters are sort of like Playground, only even more compressed: the playwrights are given a prompt at 8 PM, are assigned a director and cast, and sent off to write for twelve hours. At 8 AM the next day, rehearsals start, and the final products -- unpolished and raw as they may be -- will go up tonight at 7:30. Most of my friends who are here already are in Overnighter plays, leaving me a little solitary today. I went to the orientation panel this morning (after, of course, a caffeine fix) and have to admit I was pretty excited to hear one of the panelists, Erma Duricko, describe herself as a dramaturg, and to hear Dawson Moore describe the conference as a week-long exploration of dramaturgy. That will have to make up for the fact that I'm missing Jayne Wenger's panel "Working with Directors and Dramaturgs" for the "Acting in the Play Lab" orientation panel.

So -- after the slightly frantic trip, and considering the slightly frantic week that's to come, this lull in the day is a nice chance to get myself organized and revel in just how cool this all is. I mean, did I mention the mountain behind the dorms? Or that Patricia Neal is staying down the hall from me? To say I'm jazzed is an understatement.

There will be pictures in a bit; for now, this is for Sweeney:

( And everyone else who watches Deadwood, I suppose. )

Well, I think it's funny.