Macbeth was over. Two amazing performances, a wild, crazy, difficult, awkward, wonderful cast party and suddenly my days are free and my weekends free-er. No more witches witching, no more killing Young Siward or getting killed by MacDuff, no more Lady MacBeth tempting me to murder, no more Malcom raising my sword, no more assassinations or Blood Boltered Banquos or screaming children or awkward speaches to the king or getting to demand "blood me!" or anything. It's all done, a thing of the past to be reminisced about at parties and secretly cried over in front of pages of photos five or ten years down the line. Like Twelfth Night, As You, Midsummer, and all the rest. Except this was different. This wasn't just another play, this was my last summer Shakespeare show at the bathhouse. Ever. and that is both far sadder than and nowhere near as sad as I think it should be. Somehow.
Tonight we watched Kill Bill volumes one and two. It was fun to be around The Field again. My repartee needs a good deal of sharpening, but it will come back in time.
I start school in less than a month. I'd feel bad, but all of you start in like a week (or tomorrow), so I don't think I'm allowed to complain.
I love way too many people, and some of them I love way too much. Or maybe I've just learned to use love too lightly.
Update: and now my kitty stole all the blankets again. grr.
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2 comments:
oh elliott...it is far sadder than ever before. i feel like there's this gaping VOID that was never there before. i miss everything about our show: i miss listening to you say "I have no spur to prick the sides of my intent, but only vaulting ambition" and hearing the click of my shoes as I stride onstage to bite your head off ("know you not he has?"). and i miss the shaky feeling i get when you come onstage and say "i have done the deed, didst thou not hear a noise?" and i miss dropping my voice when I saw, "but be the serpent under't" and i miss hunting for your crown during the banquet scene, and i miss EVERY bit of gorgeous poetry from that show. whew. i love you.
See, the problem is you're surrounded by all the cuteness of the bathhouse (them) and none of the blood and guts and profanity and testosterone and stupidity (us). Also, looks like im going to bumbershoot sunday and monday, probably just sunday.
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