Elbow Tree

Monday I had a day off and walked in the park with my friend Laura Davis, and there was a tree that looked like an elbow. That was good. Aside from that, the show is going very well. My biggest problem is wrestling comps for artists who want to come and see the show. If you don't know the logistics of the Melbourne International Comedy Festival comps and holds system, don't worry, it's mildly elaborate. As follows: Your tickets go on sale. You have a few (in my case, three) producer holds, which are 3 tickets you control. You can release those to the general public at will, or assign them to people as complimentary tickets (comps). This is good if you have family or friends whose opinions you respect, or if someone fancy in need of being impressed wants to see your show in the interests of hiring you for a big fancy job. The festival holds a few tickets for themselves, judges, festival types and so on. If nobody from the festival puts dibs on them, they get released for general sale about two hours before the event. This late release can be frustrating (specially if you want to get that neat little "sold out" sticker, which, cmon, is pretty smug-making), because people who try to buy tickets in the morning can come up against a "no tickets left" wall, and then if nobody has last minute plans to see you, or tries to buy in that amorphous last few hours, there can be three or four empty seats in your sold out room. Maybe artists can come in on their passes at this point, but sometimes not. I don't like the idea of people who want to see my show (especially other artists, whose approval I crave) not being able to get in. Now, this is a good problem to have. Don't get me wrong, I've done the ten-people-in-a-room shows, and hours of flyering, and I will do those shows again. This festival has been a charmed one for me, with my little 38 seat room, and I've woken up every morning with the most difficult problem being to tell artists and friends that I may or may not be able to wangle them a free seat, and can I get back to them in the afternoon? As I mentioned in my previous post, the inevitability of future struggle makes it easier to enjoy this run. I'm in no danger of thinking that success in this industry is linear or cumulative. (Staring down Sydney Comedy Festival in a massive room I'll struggle to fill, NZ Comedy festival will be my first swing at a completely new country with nobody who knows me in it, then the legendarily difficult London club circuit and Edinburgh fringe festival on the horizon). It's weird in this career - there aren't many benchmarks, and you never know what your own success (or your own elbow) looks like. All that makes it easier to enjoy this good thing now, with its minor logistical and emotional qualms. Also knowing my (currently brutal) bank balance might eventually get bumped back into the triple digits by this run means I can spend money on carrots for my audience and spend time on my show instead of hustling strangers into taking a chance on my show. I love this work, and I don't worry too much about money, but there's nothing like drinking more water so you don't need to buy lunch to make you wonder if you've made the right life decisions. Anyway. For this month at least, I clearly have.