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Walking shadows
Wednesday, August 11, 2004I've been hearing it a lot in my head, of late, and I wonder where it's coming from: "Out, out brief candle, life is but a walking shadow, a poor player who struts and frets his hour upon the stage, and then is heard no more. It is a tale told by an idiot, full of sound and fury, signifying nothing." Pretty good from memory, eh? I learned it in High School. It always loved it, loved anything to do with MacBeth....I still, in odd moments, know that I would love to play Lady M. on the stage someday. To me MacBeth is not a tale of over riding greed so much as a story of incredible passion...those two loved each other, and when they let the desire for power take over, they lost that love. which is why, when (spoiler) Lady MacBeth jumps out of the castle window and dies on the cobblestones below, all Macbeth can summon to say when he hears of it is "She should have died hereafter." Knowing this has served me in weird ways. I went, during my freshman year of college, to a play audition. I believe it was for "All my Sons". Everyone's doing these peices, and I'm like, oh, screw. I didn't know, you see, that people, when they auditioned, performed things. The only audition I'd gone to previously they handed out partial scripts. So my turn came. I walked up onto the stage, and I ripped into MacBeth's farewell speech to his wife. Then I got off stage, walked up to the man running the auditions, and said, "I'll go now, ok?" But he said, "No, I'd like you to stay." Afterwards, I was one of the ones called to go downstair...where we got partial scripts, and I actually made the Director blink with the vehemency with which I dove into the dialoge. I looked at my fellow auditioners, and two of them grinned at me...and I knew I was ok. I got the part. I was the mother in all my sons, for about two weeks. I lost the part when I had to go to Florida, because my grandmother died and I needed to help straighten things out. I will never know if I lost the part because I wasn't good enough...I think I'd gone to two, maybe three rehearsals, and I remeber being uncomfortable...or because of expeidiency. I don't think I lost the role because I sat in the bathroom one night, feeling 0ut of My Element, begging God to deliver me. I was invited to audition again, in the vauge, polite way, and I always got along with the director, but I never tried again, even when the play was Dracula. Sometimes I wish I had. I'd gotten into publications by this time, and was distracted that way, but soemtimes I wonder what i missed. It's become one of those odd things with me, I always loved acting, felt like I would be very good at it, but on the other hand now fear I'd be too terrified to do it. Now I almost want to do it to face myself down. Prove to myself that I can do it. It's one of those wistful things, and sometimes I laugh at myself over it. I think we all want to act, sometimes. I see it as story telling in another way, making words real for a time. Permalink Cindy scribed this at 5:38 PM 0 comments |