Theatre Tips And Tricks:

Theatre Tips and Tricks:

Doors!

More accurately, how to keep doors where you want them:

So you've got a set, and it has a Door. But. Your stage isn't level, or your flat isn't square, or there's a strong airflow current or any number of things. And the door just won't stay Shut/Open/Ajar/In Place.

Paint brushes!

As you can see in the photo above, paint brushes secured to the back of the bottom corner of a door will work like a movable wedge.

They're flexible enough to slide against the floor when an actor moves the door intentionally, but if secured properly, will provide resistance against whatever gravitational or structural forces might conspire to swing the door when unattended.

For example:

This door wants to swing towards me, which has pushed the brush back as it attempts to settle. The pressure of the bristle mass, however, are gripping against the riser and pinning the door in place.

You can increase or decrease the 'hold' by moving the brush up or down the door panel.

And it's virtually undetectable from the front.

Just a tiny blob in the bottom corner of the door.

Hope that helps!

At least the view is nice.

UNACCEPTABLE part 2

So I just finished ranting about an unattended camp fire I found Tuesday night this week. And on the Monday I came across a six foot A-frame ladder in the left lane of Highway 406.

Two lanes each way with a broad ditch in between. Country, no street lights. Just half an hour before sunset.

How long had it been there?

Traffic was light, so cars were just drifting aside to pass it, but what about when the sun set? One distracted driver not processing what the weird rectangle ahead of them was?

So I pull over, spin the bike, drive back, and chuck it off into the grass.

Did I save a life? Or at least a damaged vehicle? Maybe? But who left it? Who was like "oh well I can't back up so I guess I'll just go buy a new ladder"? Did they even notice it fell off? How could they NOT?

Un-fucking-acceptable.

My weird... Happenchance moments.

So my Dad is visiting this weekend, he usually comes up twice a year. Unfortunately we're right in the Onstage for my first show and I'm working non stop.

Between my matinee Understudy and my evening Onstage I have exactly two and a half hours. It takes half an hour to get home, and half an hour back, leaving an hour and a half to grab supper together.

I decide to take Niagara Stone Road out of NotL, which I 99% of the time avoid like the plague. It has several different speed limit areas, three school zones, stop lights, intersections, residential driveways, flat open fields with huge cross winds, a roundabout, and nonstop tourists trying to get back to the QEW and having no idea how.

On the map it's more direct. In practice, less so. But for whatever reason I decide to try it today.

So I'm stuck behind confused cars going "why the HELL did I go this way?" and everyone's backed up waiting to make left turns at the intersection light in Virgil, and that's when I spot this little guy.

Stunned. Hunkered against the ground. Beak open panting. One eye scrunched shut. Sopping wet in the rain. Dead centre of the roads.

Being completely aggressive when it comes to protecting innocent life, I immediately pull over and storm back into the middle of the streets. You want to go? You're gonna have to go through me.

Cradling the little guy in my gloves, I get him back to the sidewalk, but he's far too wet and dazed to determine how injured he is. Now... The responsible circle of life option would probably have been to stick him in a bush and hope for the best.

But. I also grew up in the heyday of Disney Channel "children adopt an injured wild animal and nurse it back to health". I make a snap decision to get him home and let him rest and warm up. But also fearful that birds can stress out very easily? Well. I'd plucked him from certain death, if he could hold out through the trip home, I'd do my best. Also the NC750X has a built in trunk.

Back at home, a light paper towel dry, some seed and water offerings, and he was bright eyed, suspicious, and flying around the bathroom in no time.

Health apparent and senses restored, the best option seemed to be "put him right back in the area I found him," so Dad shows up and I'm like "No time for food, we're helpin' a birb!!" Sparrow goes in a box and us goes in a truck and truck goes back to Virgil and, welp;

I dunno how to rotate that. Oh well. Better at riding bikes than writing blogs.

Yah for not dead Sparra Warrior!

The massive downside to meaningful action on climate change is that if global warming is false were left with a clean environment and a sustainable economic model. What a bummer