I feel calico.
Last night I read Albee's The Zoo Story. It left a creepy taste in my mouth and in my soul for the rest of the night. A beautiful fear, a fear that resonates now as I recall the brilliant play. Art should do that, leave the audience with an imprint. I wish I could be of the male speicies for four years. I would do this with the purpose of performing in as many plays with amazing male roles in them. I have only nibbled on the pie of theatre literature that is published, but there are many times when I have read a play and wished, for a moment, that I was a man so I could one day have the opportunity to play this or that amazing role. Reading The Zoo Story the same yearning overcame me as I fell in love with the character of Jerry. Not "in love" romantically but in the sense of how brillinat and challenging the role is. It is rather bizarre how many times I have wished to be a man simply for the reason of playing a character. In life outside of the theatre I would never want to be a man. Nothing terribly wrong with the male speicies but I just prefer being female.
The time has come. The world will be coved in a tomb of winter and the people will wander the earth as marshmallows swaddled in nylon, cotton, polyesther and tweed. The moon was smiling last night, I think he knew.
Calico. amazing. plum sky. stars. calico. cacauphanous. leaves. dead. soul. look. Dylan Thomas. used book stores. sidewalk. love. sunglasses. buttons. olives. cordoroy. raisins. love.
Degas is amazing. Pissaro too. Impressionism is lovely, I look at the pieces and I fall into them. I am intoxicated with the color, brush strokes and the truth. Drunk with amazement I can binge for hours on artwork.
Thank you.
-Courtney Kersten