As my premiere blog post, I think I'll ramble about what recently seems to be racking my brain.
I say racking, quite literally, in the tortured sense because this week is Tech Week. I'm in my high school's drama club, where no one comes to the shows, there are barely any students in the club, and I've been unopposed in the elections for Presidency for the past two years. I like to act, but sometimes I prefer taking the back seat in a production, for example, Stage Manager. Maybe I'm power hungry, but I love stage manager.
This spring, however, we're performing Twelfth Night. I adore Shakespeare, so I immediately took up the challenge. I also end up performing in every spring show: I've only been in one fall show, and I really didn't enjoy it. I'm not totally enjoying Twelfth Night, but I think I'm comparing it to the past spring shows. One, where I found new friends, discovered my new favorite author, and, with the green attitude of a freshman, laughed at every single one of the seniors' jokes. The other show had the greatest cast I've ever worked with, I was not single, and there was a dog. Twelfth Night lacks a dog, a boyfriend, and the innocence of freshman year.
I play Maria, the troublemaker, the knieving, "shrew" if you will. We decided to go Leonardo diCaprio in Romeo and Juliet and set the play in present day. So, being the witty and free-spirited woman, I'm Bohemian. And barefoot.
Now if you dance, or have any stage experience, you'll know where I'm coming from.
Where the fuck does all the black crap come from???
The stage looks decently clean, and how on earth does that paint END UP ON YOUR FEET?
I wondered this in ballet. It's really a rational explanation.
Black feet however, are bothersome. And washing those feet is even more bothersome.
I say racking, quite literally, in the tortured sense because this week is Tech Week. I'm in my high school's drama club, where no one comes to the shows, there are barely any students in the club, and I've been unopposed in the elections for Presidency for the past two years. I like to act, but sometimes I prefer taking the back seat in a production, for example, Stage Manager. Maybe I'm power hungry, but I love stage manager.
This spring, however, we're performing Twelfth Night. I adore Shakespeare, so I immediately took up the challenge. I also end up performing in every spring show: I've only been in one fall show, and I really didn't enjoy it. I'm not totally enjoying Twelfth Night, but I think I'm comparing it to the past spring shows. One, where I found new friends, discovered my new favorite author, and, with the green attitude of a freshman, laughed at every single one of the seniors' jokes. The other show had the greatest cast I've ever worked with, I was not single, and there was a dog. Twelfth Night lacks a dog, a boyfriend, and the innocence of freshman year.
I play Maria, the troublemaker, the knieving, "shrew" if you will. We decided to go Leonardo diCaprio in Romeo and Juliet and set the play in present day. So, being the witty and free-spirited woman, I'm Bohemian. And barefoot.
Now if you dance, or have any stage experience, you'll know where I'm coming from.
Where the fuck does all the black crap come from???
The stage looks decently clean, and how on earth does that paint END UP ON YOUR FEET?
I wondered this in ballet. It's really a rational explanation.
Black feet however, are bothersome. And washing those feet is even more bothersome.
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