Pilfered

Pressed stripes of glossy grain
Against the beaten yellow, wind
Around in nature's pattern slow,
As pencils scar the dead.
Poor kings grow wide and old,
Age crowns them giants who
Attempt to brush the clouds
And smile to bodhisattvas up.
Pilfered of their hands and feet
A growl of metal teeth tears
Apart the crying bark while
Ants scatter, squish and
Purple frogs die in the sun.

Acting

First thing first: I am stage manager for Centre Players' production of Romeo and Juliet.
Now I'll spill the beans: I must say, that acting turns me on. Not necessarily my own acting, but acting in general is a thrill to watch and to be a part of. The energy, the intensity, the focus and determination - it's exhilarating. To look straight into someone's eyes and become someone else, it makes me weak at the knees.
The other day, we were rehearsing for Romeo and Juliet, and our Juliet (dearest Becca) was in a car wreck, but is completely fine; the car is just wrecked, so I rehearsed in her place. In this particular scene, Paris is speaking with Friar Lawrence about the wedding on Thursday, and Juliet comes in to "make confession." There is a pseudo-faceoff between Paris and Juliet, since Paris knows he owns Juliet, but Juliet is very smart and retorts everything he says with utter politeness. It's very intense, and when Paris reaches to touch Juliet's face saying, "Thy face is much abused with tears," we understand to what level he owns her. So I was the one in this situation, and when David, our director, came in at this moment to direct the action, my heart skipped a beat, I was so electrified. His blue eyes, unblinking, staring into mine, embodying all that is the fiend Paris, sent something wonderful like blue lightening through my core. This is most likely the subconscious reason I'm into theater.
Whew!

Dulcinea's Eyes

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