If the theatrosphere were the ocean, there are lots of new ships never seen before gliding in to dock with glistening new hulls. At the same time, others who we admire for their beauty and strength are leaving our shores perhaps never to be seen again. There are squalls out on the water, rocking this one and that one. Pirates, jumping from boat to boat, perhaps doing damage, perhaps not. I hear cannons in the distance, but I can't tell if hulls are cracking and blistering or if it's lots of bluster.
Meanwhile, our lives go on in the real world. All of us artists struggling to make art and find places to be. I'm not sunk yet, though some days I feel like heading to dry land and studying barrelmaking or public accounting.