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Many cannot understand this feeling I can only describe as the calling.
The urge to return before the congregation and speak for the gods, as only the ancients have done before. To be ridden, with a new voice and a new heart.
To lie for the entertainment of others.
This deep festering need, to perform upon "The Stage."
The great possible plagiarist himself Mr. Shakespeare once annotated this famous phrase “all the world is a stage and we are but its players.”
There is something about returning to the stage. The creaking of wooden floor planks underneath foot as you stand, and deliver the wisdom of the day. To search for that inner truth, hidden within honest lies. Birthed of imagination, sweat, direction, madness, drama, romance, lust, pain and sorrow. The stage crafts boy into man, girl into woman and more often than not affords acceptance rather than ridicule when those lines sometimes blur.
Craft is appreciated and envied.
Battles of all sorts and primal natures abound.
The peaceful are found to be blood thirsty. And grizzlies become plush toys when the sun sets.
There are fairytale castles, and sandbags. There usually abides a Wendy and a few dozen lost boys. A Never Never land, complete with Pan, Capt. Hook, Mr. Smee and a few dozen carpenters and castaways to boot.
The dreamers. The last thespians. The prophets and madmen of old.
Those lower than the prostitutes and thieves.
Those actors understand the call of the stage.
For the stage is the mirror to the world.
Come let us reflect upon this urge… specifically my urge.
I return to the stage to perform one of my own stories, at a (shudder) talent show. I have always been rather scared of these kinds of events. Always slightly afraid I’d be as talented as the guy who belches out the alphabet backwards… and less talented than the lady who can fart a few bars if the star spangled banner.
Yep Fear… Sure you hear adoration from close friends and family. Their word doesn’t mean shit though. Let’s face it family and friends have to lie to you… it’s a given. So if you want to know the truth either you have to learn to read between the lines (so deep it borderlines on psychotic) or go out there and put your balls on the tee.
Notice I say return; it’s been ages since I last was graced by the presence of a stage. By choice, by design, by sheer audacity in other words… again I call it fear.
Like many people I have known in life, I lived in fear of my own existence… in fear of my love of the arts. In fear of this mirror of reality.
In fear of myself.
I have renounced fear, for fear is the mind killer.
Whether disastrous or glorious, I am looking forward to having a captive audience.
In the not too distant future, perhaps a ransomed audience.
In the past I would say
“You cannot fail, if you do not try”
I now say
“There is no such thing as failure, there is only tempering”
In other words,
I’m going to get Hammered.
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Posted by Djgheist on 2008-06-18 09:41:31 | Rating: | Views: 87
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Kudos and accolades ... you've earned them. I would be your audience any day.
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Posted by EMsEnd
on 2008-07-02 18:30:15
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