...to stand on the meeting of two eternities, the past and future, which is precisely the present moment; to toe that line. -H D Thoreau

We shall not cease from exploration, and the end of all our exploring will be
to arrive where we started and know the place for the first time. -
T. S. Eliot

15.7.09



















Theater of the mind.
She concluded her magic by ringing up a few quotes from Victor Hugo. Grinning to herself, she rehearsed an abbreviated reenactment of Fontine’s death. Still smiling at the mirrored audience, she shut out the light and exited stage front door. Indeed, she had possessed a bit of this character as a younger woman. The uncertainty of each day. The working really very hard through every single detailed accomplishment that some people take for granted. Toasting bread while getting the pin light to hit her cheek bone correctly. Brushing the bird’s teeth. Zipping up a wind-breaker. Now, she simply skipped to the ending of each life she portrayed. Trying on different finales to get an idea of what felt most natural...

She walked down and around to the corner on Main Street. As she handed a derelict loose change, his cell phone rang from deep within his tattered pocket...

A performance at a Bowery outdoor cafe theater of life in late fall. Coffee steaming into the chilly morning air. A tense tête-à-tête discussion about life on the edge and horrible deaths. The audience is hanging on every word.
Two mongrels tumble across the screen in front of the protagonist and prophet. The miniature terrier is ripping the hair out of the larger wolf, as he has a death grip on the smaller one’s neck. Engrossed in the importance of their own words, our two heroes never glance up at the riot of commotion.
The device obliterates the seriousness of the message. The importance of the words are knocked aside as if being effaced from a huge tablet in the sky.

...Inhabiting strange places reminds me of the winter Clint, Trax and myself were living in the costume shop of the church flipped Acoma Theater. We slept under the huge cutting table. I knew when the third act of Macbeth was about to begin because the swords fell on me, every time.

...A really great opera review might include, “...And as for the cast, none of them offended me greatly.”

...Opening a box, revealing an archival monkey mask of the thinnest open cell foam wrinkled and folded years ago by a perfectionist. The Image of the delicate mask turning to dust as it was being lifted out of it’s nest of wrappings, has never left my mind's eye.

“It dosen’t matter a rats ass if there’s not butts in the seats”

see June 27...

15 comments:

  1. stunningly told...such layers here. off to check the 27th...

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  2. I never quite understand how poor homeless people have cell phones. I can barely pay for mine.

    Great piece. Loved it.

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  3. The visuals here blended well :)

    Take a bow...

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  4. I liked this, I'm an avid people watcher and a few theatrics 'play' out near where i work every day where a table of drunks strut their stuff near the river . . .very animated but nobody watches, just me as I sip my coffee at lunchtime.

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  5. I liked this, I'm an avid people watcher and a few theatrics 'play' out near where i work every day where a table of drunks strut their stuff near the river . . .very animated but nobody watches, just me as I sip my coffee at lunchtime.

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  6. Thanks for all the thoughts...Thanks for coming by, these TT are very fun.
    It is nice hearing from the same folks again...
    Willow, It is strange what we now believe we can not live without!
    Bano, drunk strut stuff -image. I like it.

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  7. "As she handed a derelict loose change, his cell phone rang from deep within his tattered pocket..." and "The Image of the delicate mask turning to dust as it was being lifted out of it’s nest of wrappings, has never left my mind's eye." were both GREAT lines!

    Speaking of Victor Hugo, that second line reminded me of the ending of one of his stories... You know which one! ;-)

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  8. S. Fox, Yes, We see the human condition clearly in Fontine (Fantine), and other Monsieur Hugo characters. My children have the look of horrified, delight as they listen to the broadway 'Les Misérables'.

    Megan, Is that good? Thanks for stopping in!

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  9. I could have stopped to comment on any one of your posts but I am drawn to the word theatre, and mind too. Read this one twice and had the urge to put it in my pocket. I am so happy that you stopped by and said hello. I'll see you again.
    Catherine

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