Shyness is Nice
All but Death, can be Adjusted—
Dynasties repaired—
Systems—settled in their Sockets—
Citadels—dissolved—
Wastes of Lives—resown with Colors
By Succeeding Springs—
Death—unto itself—Exception—
Is exempt from Change—
- Emily Dickinson
It could be the fact that I am rehearsing the tragic play The Trojan Women or it could just be this dark time of year, but I have been thinking about death a lot lately.
And as luck would have it, my first rehearsal of the day featured a drop dead beautiful baby Zora (she'd give Shiloh Brangelina Whatshername Pitt a run for her money). Zora of the cherubic cheeks and the perfect pink lips was a lovely well-behaved baby who did not make more than the occasional friendly chirp as she rolled across the floor.
My second rehearsal (Sunday is rehearsal day!) featured a leather jacket which represented the dead corpse of a baby thrown from a cliff by the blood thirsty Greeks. Poor little baby Astyanax never had much of a chance once the drums of war began beating.
It was nice to wake up to a snowstorm this morning, but not so nice to drive to Essex on sludge-covered roads. Still, it was a good, tiring day all in all and I even had time in between rehearsals to take some snaps in the Essex Cemetery.
Still, cannot manage to shake this heavy weight on my heart. Perhaps it is time to read a trashy novel or listen to the tape that was in my car all day providing many good songs to sing out loud to. God bless Morrissey and The Smiths:
And as luck would have it, my first rehearsal of the day featured a drop dead beautiful baby Zora (she'd give Shiloh Brangelina Whatshername Pitt a run for her money). Zora of the cherubic cheeks and the perfect pink lips was a lovely well-behaved baby who did not make more than the occasional friendly chirp as she rolled across the floor.
My second rehearsal (Sunday is rehearsal day!) featured a leather jacket which represented the dead corpse of a baby thrown from a cliff by the blood thirsty Greeks. Poor little baby Astyanax never had much of a chance once the drums of war began beating.
It was nice to wake up to a snowstorm this morning, but not so nice to drive to Essex on sludge-covered roads. Still, it was a good, tiring day all in all and I even had time in between rehearsals to take some snaps in the Essex Cemetery.
Still, cannot manage to shake this heavy weight on my heart. Perhaps it is time to read a trashy novel or listen to the tape that was in my car all day providing many good songs to sing out loud to. God bless Morrissey and The Smiths:
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