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Fortune's Fool (satirev repmes)
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[Jun. 25th, 2008|12:41 am] |
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Arlecchino - also known as Harlequin. Arlecchino is a clown. Typically acrobatic and mischievous, he is one of the zanni. He is a servant, and is recognizable by the colorful diamond-shaped patches that traditionally were part of his costume. The part is sometimes substituted with Truffaldino, his son. However, Arlecchino is never the loser. His mask has a low forehead with a wart, and sometimes wore a black stocking wound round the lower face and then up over the head. Arlecchino is often the servant to Pantalone, or sometimes to Il Dottore. He is in love with Colombina, but she only makes fun of him. He can often have a close relationship with the audience, involving them in the action or gesturing to them. |
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| (no subject) |
[Jun. 2nd, 2008|08:03 pm] |
Well, our run of The Spotted Man went pretty fantastic-ally! Super proud of everyone involved. Can't wait to start another project in the Spring.
In the meantime I'll be...spending 6 months in Europe. Holy shit. I know, I'm super excited. And then Mexico. Which means that my arse won't be freezing in this ridiculously volatile weather for at least 2 years? Sounds good.
Been looking into Circus schools too. I know, circus schools? But yeah. I have to learn a lot of tricks before that though. Still considering theatre school, now that I've decided that I want to spend a good portion of my life acting/performing.
To think that in a few weeks I'll be halfway done with my undergrad career. It was only a couple of years ago that I was in elementary school and my concept of "high school" was a little ...skewed. And Greek? I was so young. Still am, I s'pose, but time has flown.
What was that Ben Folds quote I heard today? The seconds drag but the years fly by? Something like that. --So true.
I'm also pretty sure I'll be much changed when I start school in London in September. You can't live alone abroad for several months and not change. But I look forward to it. To her. Hopefully she'll have made some headway with the play, and learned some new skills, and be closer to achieving enlightenment. |
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| Teatrrrrrooooo! |
[May. 31st, 2008|12:08 am] |
:)
:(
La vida es un carnaval.
Such is the life of a player.
Hoy entendi el poder de la audiencia. |
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| (no subject) |
[Apr. 27th, 2008|12:17 pm] |
THEATRRRRRREEEE! Lots of it. Enough to consume my life. But I love it.
I directed two shows this quarter, of which I'm deliriously proud.
Directing is an entirely new monster.
Lets see. I'm going to be in a show 9th week (a remarkably lewd show, I might add). It seems to have become a game of "how uncomfortable can we make the audience feel?"--a game I'm always very willing to play. Rehearsals have been exhausting, but well, 'tis necessary.
School is also going well. In that I absolutely love my classes (because I've decided to get through the Core my 4th year--something I'll no doubt regret when the time comes).
Of course I havent been able to do much reading for my classes, because I've been having rehearsals every night, but well, I'll catch up.
What else? Been writing articles for a magazine, looking forward to London and Oaxaca next year (hell yes!)
My friend got sick a couple of days ago and I had to take her to the hospital. Dunno why I'm sharing this, but I suppose it's been on my mind.
I'm going to apply for the Philosophy Intensive Track. aaaand I still dont know what I'm going to do this summer, though working in Barcelona is still my first choice.
I saw Little Women yesterday with my friend. I absolutely hate that Christian Bale ends up with Amy. Amy is also the name of one of my roommates. I'm beginning to worry about her. She's very nice, but she reads compulsively, and doesnt go out much....
I need to suck it up and start writing that damned play. I need to get to know some characters first.
If only I could have...
the humour of wilde, the philosophy of beckett and stoppard, the depth of churchill and pinter, the fire of albee, and the poetry of ruhl.
yes I think that would make for the perfect play.
Janna's coming this thursday. I'm so massively excited. I miss her so much.
Have a good day, everyone. |
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| (no subject) |
[Oct. 6th, 2007|01:12 pm] |
The pennycandystore beyond the El
is where I first
fell in love
with unreality
Jellybeans glowed in the semi-gloom
of that september afternoon
A cat upon the counter moved among
the licorice sticks
and tootsie rolls
and Oh Boy Gum
Outside the leaves were falling as they died
A wind had blown away the sun
A girl ran in
Her hair was rainy
Her breasts were breathless in the little room
Outside the leaves were falling
and they cried
Too soon! too soon!
-- Lawrence Ferlinghetti |
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| :) |
[Jul. 13th, 2007|09:11 pm] |
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| (no subject) |
[Nov. 27th, 2006|02:52 pm] |
So, I finished it. My brain child. All 6 pages and a little bit of it.
I didnt prove that we have free will, I had to change my thesis, but I did show that this guy who was arguing aginst free will's arguments were very weak.
Can this paper really be such a huge defining factor in and of my future? Um, yes.
Siiiigh. I should know what I got by next week.
Thanksgiving was nice, my family came up.
Congratulations Masha, I'm surprised you havent commented everywhere that we suck and you rule...but alas.
Anyway, I have to write a religion paper, a poetry book report and a research report on Modernism all for wednesday. Oh joy.
AND MY BIRTHDAY IS COMING UP!!!!!!
...18, eh?
I'll have to find that list I wrote 10 minutes before I turned 17... |
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| :)!!!! |
[Nov. 16th, 2006|05:18 pm] |
TO-day...is ONE MONTH!!!!
a whole month, uninterrupted (although almost).
To those of you who thought I couldnt do it- in your face.
And to those of you who supported me, thanks. |
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| (no subject) |
[Nov. 2nd, 2006|07:59 pm] |
| [ | mood |
| |  happy | ] |
| [ | music |
| | Yanni- that song that makes me crazy | ] |
I havent written in what feels like forever. Though it's probably been just 2 or 3 days.
But I have been drawing. I spent another 3 hours in the art center today. Charcoal this time-my second and most intense visual art love.
But I did it in my sketchbook because i wasnt sure if i could use their paper, or where i'd put their loose paper in my room.
So my sketchbook and consequently my bookbag reeks of fixative. I know, i'm an idiot. And i'll probably get high off the fumes when I take it out of my bag. C'est la vie.
I want to go back to the art center now... grrr. But I won't go back till tomorrow. I have to hit the gym. And then have dinner with the beautiful Leah.
Au revoir. |
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| I'm stealing this one... |
[Oct. 29th, 2006|04:38 pm] |
"Writing is simple. You simply open a vein and let the blood pour out."
:) |
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| (no subject) |
[Jul. 11th, 2005|09:59 pm] |
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I do not want to go home... |
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| Yes! this is my last day of getting up at 4am! |
[Jul. 8th, 2005|05:32 pm] |
Wow, this camp is so cool, and extremely intense. And my counselor is nagging at me because I just changed the computers' languange preferences to japanese and she can't change it back.
<3
btw I get back the 16th and leave for PR the 24th |
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| (no subject) |
[Apr. 17th, 2005|08:26 pm] |
You are your own worst enemy.
You are your biggest obstacle.
But how to defeat your own mind?
Anyway, Halback knows who I like. Which is not...good.
I remember a time when noone knew what I was really thinking... |
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| Flight Troubles |
[Feb. 17th, 2005|09:56 pm] |
| [ | mood |
| | calm | ] |
| [ | music |
| | Josh Groban | ] |
So I missed my flight. Yeah. Funny. Anyway, I'll just leave tomorrow. Who wants to chill?
Grrr my mom won't let me listen to some of the Josh Groban songs even though they're in Italian because they're sad and she understands them (Mi Mancherai, which means you will miss me, etc.) so what? I want to listen to them sheish! Weirdo. |
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| 3.2 HOW DID IT END UP BEING THIS LONG? |
[Jan. 30th, 2005|06:32 pm] |
The story must have a werewolf in it. The story must have some medicine appear in the middle. A character will prepare for a birthday. A character is shot in the story. During the story, a character talks about a myth.
There’s no point in beating around the bush, I, Melanie Strap am a werewolf. It isn’t something I’m particularly proud of, but I’m most certainly not ashamed of it. The kids at my school-Maple High- all either make fun of me or ignore me altogether. After extensive rumination I think I prefer the former. For some arcane reason, hearing howls wherever I go is somehow comforting. Anything is better than silence. Specially the type of deafening silence that constantly rings in my ears. The type that assures you that everyone around you is observing you and drawing erroneous conclusions about you. It’s like being imprisoned naked in a showcase, a cage fashioned for a purpose worse than corporal damage. Such isolation is my true curse.
I was bitten when I was five years old. Curious child that I was, I decided to explore the forest in my backyard. After wandering around for about an hour, I came across a black-clad man crouched down next to a small lake in the heart of the forest. The water beside his quivering form held crimson ribbons. I approached him with childlike fearlessness, “What’s wrong?” I asked.
“I…ne-..need…blo-od,” he managed to croak. I took pity on him, when I should have been afraid.
I kneeled down next to him and he rolled over onto his back. The single silver bullet lodged smugly in his chest glittered a greeting to me. I inhaled sharply, but remained motionless.
“If I…die…all…lost…the mem-… the Lyc-… my..people,” he was barely coherent as yet more of his blood trickled into the crystalline lake.
I wished to help him, knowing full well what he was. “You can have some of my blood...if you want,” I offered, only half aware of the unbreakable covenant I was about to sign.
His eyes widened, and he struggled to sit up. He furrowed his brow, and shook his head before it tipped back involuntarily. He was deteriorating further with every breath. Abruptly, and with surprising strength he grabbed me and muttered, “Sono spiacente,” before transforming, right before me and quite sonorously into a werewolf.
He bit deep into my slight neck, drinking greedily from my seemingly boundless spring, and cutting his own lip with his fangs, letting his blood flow into my wound and into my veins, bound me to him not just in blood, but in spirit. With a cry he slowly returned to his human form
“Thank you, child,” he said, “I am sorry for what I have given you, and I am even more sorry for what I will give you before you cross the threshold into civilization,” I listened, confused. “You are so young, and yet so brave…” he trailed off. “Little one, my name is Lamir Romulus Mandrake, I am the father of the Lycans, and as such, the keeper of all the memories…” he sighed, searching for words. “All of my chil…children’s memories…” he was growing weak again, “I possess all the memories of all of my people,” he looked at me meaningfully.
“You’re going to die, aren’t you?” I inquired, catching up quickly. He nodded solemnly. “And because I now have your blood in my veins…” he nodded again, apologetic. “When you die…I…will possess the memories,” I finished.
“Yes chi..child, I am sorry to…put this burden…on your small shoulders, but….my time…my time is short,” he struggled.
Suddenly a twig snapped several yards from us, an explosion in my newly sensitive ears. “Go!” Lamir yelled and pointed west. I ran in that direction without turning back until I fell to the ground as my house came into view.
“Aaaaaaaaaah!!!” I yelled as a myriad of images I hadn’t conjured invaded my mind. Lamir was dead.
Now, twelve years later, on the eve of my seventeenth birthday, I walk quietly towards my house and observe a group of kids around my age laugh at nonsense as they cut across my backyard and into the forest. I can now control the constant flow of memories I receive, and I can even sort though them, like my own movie collection with a theme.
The full moon is approaching. I can smell it like some humans claim they can smell rain. As I make my way up the stairs and up to my room I hear my mother’s voice. “Melanie,” she calls, “come here please,” cold as usual. I go back down the stairs, into the kitchen and stand before my mother, a petite, rather rotund, chestnut haired woman. Without another word she hands me a vial overflowing with an orange fluid. Wolfsbane. The only medicine and the only solace for a werewolf that walks among people. Wolfsbane is not a cure, indeed the only alleged cure is for the bitten is to eat the heart of the werewolf that bit them. That, however, would remain a myth and a mystery to me, as Lamir’s body was long gone when I returned to look for him the day after our encounter. Wolfsbane ameliorated the transformation, accelerated it, made it less painful, and allowed me to continue thinking like a human even when I no longer resembled one.
The Wolfsbane leaked down my throat, leaving a trail of warmth in its wake. My head began to ache as I made my way to my room, where-as was my monthly ritual- I would curl up in a corner, rocking myself back and forth, and sorting though my people’s memories, guarding them, keeping the Lycans alive, await the full moon.
My curse is not a curse at all. It granted me sight. I am not blind to humanity’s cruelty and hypocrisy, as many humans are. But most importantly, what Lamir gave me that day was the ability to enjoy life’s simple pleasures. The unexpected smile, the sweet sound of a genuine laugh, the beauty of a solitary yellow daisy in a crack in the sidewalk. I had not been turned into a monster, instead I was given the ability to see the real monster in others, and the beauty in everything they took for granted.
moral of the story-enjoy life |
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| Like a Broken Arrow |
[Dec. 2nd, 2004|07:48 pm] |
| [ | mood |
| |  creative | ] |
| [ | music |
| | "How do I say"-Usher | ] |
Yay! I talked to Esat! After so long! I missed my little British friend. Hopefully I'll see him this summer.
Today was great! I felt like such a kid. In lunch Beatriz and I were playing those hand clapping games that everybody used to play in 4th grade, remember them? And we made erica and sasha play "she rocks in a treetop all day long..." with us, and Fass spotted me and wouldn't let me live it down in class. haha! "All my personalities love you too." Ofcourse they do.
Masha Marya Janna and I wrote a poem about friendship for the Kurze, it was awesome.
And afterschool I went to pick up masha in Ms. Silverman's and started talking to Jon and Silverman let me color a picture of the Globe Theater! It's so colorful! I got to use the "Art Box" it was great!
And I'm gonna do Fass' experiment proposal essay, too bad Darya and I can't do it together, it would be easier, but w/e.
I can't wait till Saturday!
And Rachael I LOVE YOU! For giving me "the sex talk". haha ur an awesome mommy! |
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