#47 Theatre

In my younger years as a budding thespian, I played character roles, always a bridesmaid, never a bride.

Monologues were my favorite; the saucy English maid who drew the curtains in more ways than one on her royal employers.  And there was one where I played tennis with an imaginary player.  Each time I drew the racket back, there was a one-sided volley of conversation befitting a jilted southern-drawling lass.  “And the ball went back and foth, back and foth, until, thwack! it hit its taaget…”

My most memorable role, though, and the hardest to emote was the passion of Appassionata von Climax in Lil’ Abner.  Instead of feeling like the seductress I was written to be, I felt like Hermoine Gingold, particularly when she sang “I Remember it Well” with Maurice Chevelier.  Perhaps it was because the role was written for a 20 or something year old, and I was near planting daisies in my mid 30’s.

All that is behind me now except for storytelling and reading other’s work.  If, “The world is a stage, and all the men and women merely players…,” I am happy being akin to a character like Hermoine.  Today, I use my theatrical voice, the melodious highs and solemn lows not on a stage but in a setting.  I enhance and sprinkle my tales with punctuated silence and alluring eyes that lock onto one who is listening with such intensity, he barely breathes.

Depending on the content of the story, I prefer the telling in a dimly lit room or dusk outside if spooky.  A low-lit fire is a fine foil for its magic.  If the story is one of whimsy, I line the children in a semi-circle on a floor of grass or indoors on a comfy rug, a well-used prop.  Employing nothing more than a play of words with cadence and pause, I draw the listeners in as a spider to its web, “as one man in his time playing many parts…”

When viewing the artwork between two buildings in Bantam today, I asked why the turtles has been covered so that I could hardly pick them out.  The artist assured me that the turtles on the log are an essential part of the swampy area and will be seen again soon.  We are enchanted with the work and grateful to have it nearby.


Dick Christian, the artist in Bantam’s between two buildings artwork, uses only primary colors on his palette board and mixes them to create incredible pastoral scenes.  His palette is literally a board left over from construction.

#43 Air

Stillness, there is no movement of air.

I waken gasping, choking on windpipe, dry.

In a stupor from oxygen deprivation I throw

off the dry sheet and in slow, lethargic movements

will my limbs to move across the room.

Power surges through the low energy,

efficient model and immediately, air.

Sucking in the coolness, kneeling on the wood floor,

I thank the gods once more for the

breath of life in a torrid wave of heat.