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The Moon around Noon

Coming from the airport into Murmansk around 12:30 PM, the pink and orange sky belies the fact that the biggest full moon I have ever seen before is in full view.  This is the first image I have of Murmansk, Russia, and it's instantly burned into my brain.  I realize that coming here to conduct research for a new play was a good decision based on this visual stunner.  The city's apartment buildings are gray, look old, and are no more than nine stories in most cases.  They are blocks of Legos that have been copied throughout the city, and I wonder who the city planners were that concocted this idea of sameness.  I know the year the city was founded: 1915.  That makes this year- 2016- rather special.  It's technically the 'newest' Russian city, and I glimpse a few colorful signs that recognize the hundredth anniversary is approaching.
We pass a newish mall... a McDonald's that looks quite modern compared to the Legos... a steady stream of cars going in the opposite direction.  The last time my wife was here full-time- she was born in Murmansk - was half a lifetime ago.  She moved away while in high school to a city called Kostroma, which is very far from here and very much not like Murmansk.  For one thing, Kostroma does not have polar night, one of the main reasons we're here. Polar night is a period of approximately forty days in which there is little to (eventually) no sun.  Temperatures can reach -33 degrees Celsius with the wind chill, and there is snow on the ground.  A lot of it.
I'm here to write a play set in Murmansk and about Murmansk.  We want to stage the first production here in Russian.  I don't yet know enough Russian to be able to write it myself, so we'll need some help.  I can say some simple words and phrases, thanks mostly to my wife speaking to our little daughter who is still in diapers.  I hope one day, if she's interested, she'll play whatever main female role I eventually write for this play.  That would be very cool, actually, but I won't push her to play on stage if it's not something that is appealing.  
I don't know what this play will be about.  I haven't got a clue.  I don't write knowing what my plays are about.  I might have some ideas about the stories, but what they're themes and subject matter are are mysteries to me until about halfway through... and then they might change when I get three-quarters of the way through, and that might again go out the window by the time I reach the end and realize that I surprised myself again.  I'm not worried about this, though, for when the play has something clear to say it will say so with a smile on its face.
For now, I'm enjoying the ride, and I'm wondering where this particular adventure will eventually take us.
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