The flag is what greets newcomers to the Shreveport airport's baggage claim. Yep, they're claiming it pretty hard, and big.
Shreveport is a strange, small part of the world. Admittedly, upon arrival yesterday I was not the best judge of reality. Sleep deprivation and hunger rarely make for sound perception. 17 hours of unconsciousness later, much better.
Casual observations. Louisiana is a lovely place, covered in green, brick, and aggressive magnolias.
The house where I'm staying comes equipped with an enclosed back porch, unexpected metal sculptures, and a just discovered wireless signal (Hells yes).
The Christianity is palpable.
Call backs are this afternoon. I didn't attend initial auditions as I was fulfilling a run as stage manager at the Side Project in Chicago. Brandy, my charming director from Tennessee, assures me that of the 20 kids who showed up (apparently half the department is boycotting the play), about 15 are castable. As long as there's a Jesus and an Ash I'm fine.
A bit more this evening about the play itself, as well as mean spirited comments from this afternoon's scene readings.
I miss Chicago. But I don't miss winter or getting up before 9:45 a.m.
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