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The Pool is a participant in New Georges' Supported Productions program, in which New Georges 

provides mentorship, resources and an institutional platform to its affiliated artists who produce their own work. 

August 16, 2017

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August 16, 2017

I could never dive, by which I mean literally, and I still can’t.

 

If I had a t-shirt that said “ask me about that summer when I went to diving class a whole diving class to get over this humiliating un-dive-ability and it was a total disaster” it might help in situations near pools or even beaches, I mean, I know people who will dive head first into waves, WAVES, and they’re like, come on, what’s your prob, and I’m like –

 

well, see, that’s when I could point to the shirt. 

 

Nobody else went to diving class -- well I guess the rest of the class did, it was a class, but I

 

think for most of them it was to make their diving BETTER.  All the diving they’d done prior to, I guess, had been some sort of innate – a gift, I guess, an innate gift.  A spring, then an arc, then their skinny little bods hit the water, but I think the operative point here lies above, it’s HEAD FIRST, I stood on that diving board at Jordan Junior High School (Jordan Middle School by the time I went there and hit that pool in a regulation black bathing suit but that’s another tale of woe), well first I sat with the other kids shivering till my turn and then I took the long walk out onto the diving board and put my arms over my ears in that V they kept talking about and bent my knees and imagined my head leading my body into the water and as I imagined I stood there and stood there and stood there and stood there and it didn’t just happen and maybe it’s cause I was trying to figure out how to do that?  Allow your head to go first?  Duh, my body doesn’t let me go in the wrong direction, it’s counterintuitive (can’t handstand against the wall of the school either but that’s another tale of woe) but by then my turn had taken too much time, again, and it was now or never, again, teacher looking at watch and line of kids does not help, are you going?????  And I’d take a now longer walk back down the back of the diving board to my waiting spot, teacher sighing doesn’t help, and the other kids with innate springs and arcs who had to wait and wait – not a waste of their time, though, they got to practice their eye rolling -- and after two or three progressively longer walks of shame in the course of the morning I’d ride my bike home thinking maybe I could do it tomorrow, oh god do I really have to come tomorrow?

 

But metaphorically.  Metaphorically, I am a great diver!  Metaphorically, by which I mean usually artistically, I want nothing more than to take something on, often risky, and see it through, I do not walk back, I keep going until I splash!  Head first to the point of impetuous.  So when Lynn asked me to be part of the temporary consortium of playwrights that became the Pool, I dove

 

Well, no, that’s not true.  I took a while, I thought about it for a while.  The thing that made me take a while was this:  we have to raise money.  Raise money!  Sure, I do this all the time for my theater company, so it may seem easy, but that’s kind of the point, starting on a whole NEW thing, asking for MORE… hard. 

 

My play TANIA IN THE GETAWAY VAN is about that girl who can’t dive.  Fortunately, she finds herself a metaphor.  It’s a little… off, but it gives her some temporary power.  We have one, too, Peter, Lynn and me.  We called our endeavor The Pool, so that every time we talk about it, or invite you to talk about it, there’s an innate reminder there.  We are DIVERS.   We can do it!  And now that we’ve kicked off our Kickstarter?  That helps.  Help us get a little risky, won’t you?

 

 

 

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