Aaaaaaaaaah fuck. What a fucking great day; what a fucking great Fringe :)
- Death Conversation with Himalayan Cultural Eve
- The Sound and the Fury
What? Just two shows? Well, there was a visit to the Helpmann Academy Graduate Exhibition this afternoon, followed by a trip to the Format ‘Zine Fair (another $150+ spent). This evening was, of course, dominated by the Fringe Awards ceremony, which surpassed all expectations.
Free booze (for awhile) was a good start, but the ability to go around thanking the people who make this stuff you love is just priceless. Queue jumping at the bar for Geraldine Quinn? My honour. Freefall getting Best Circus act? And me being able to rave at two increasingly uncertain and shirking teenagers that I thought their show was awesome? A delight. Stevl Shefn nabbing the best comedy award? Spot on the money.
And, to cap it all off, theater simple chats at HQ, followed by the usual suspects at TuxCat: Nik Coppin, Dr Brown. Some lost Clipsal blokes who decided that a good way to impress Irene was to show her a collection of Ford t-shirts. Anniene. Talking toilet etiquette with Andrew O’Neill. An impromptu stomach-buffer stop at MaccyD’s.
And the sweetest hug I can remember.
But now, sleep. 116 shows all up, plus another three that I saw twice, plus another one in the late sixties which I saw but didn’t realise was a Fringe show. Let’s just say 120 shows – 107 Fringe, 13 Festival. Visual arts excluded, of course.
So, yeah – sleep.