I love spending time at the theatre, both on stage and in the audience. As it gets colder, I guess I tend to spend more and more time at the theatre, and it also seems to be a lovely time to encourage people who wouldn’t normally go to the theatre to go.
Recently, I saw a wonderful new play, Amazing Grace, in Leeds with two friends, one of whom doesn’t go to the theatre often but has now faithfully promised to do just that. Job done then! Though, to be fair it’s far more due to the brilliant writing and acting in the play than my influence. The play is a tragedy, about life, and love, and death, and all of those things which any good writer wants to capture properly during their career, but few manage this well. It’s also a comedy, dark as night, cynical, blunt and painfully true. The tragedy for you, if you haven’t seen it, is that its run has ended, though I would hope it’s gets at least one more as it deserves to be seen, by as many people as possible.
It also got me to thinking about how we see the world, how we see others, how others see the world and how others see us and how, we’ll never really know. The truth is most of us are putting on a show every single day, and watching the shows presented to us by everyone else around us. Reality is something so mysterious, constantly the subject of interpretation and misinterpretation, so unreal, that, in reality, we may never really know anything at all. But we can try and find the beauty in what we do see. The beauty of the show and the beauty behind the scenes, if and when we see it.
This is a piece of microfiction inspired all shows, theatrical and otherwise.
Beautiful. Dark eyes. Glossy lips. Eyes follow her like rainbows appearing after summer rain. She stares at her reflection. Beautiful. With drenched cotton wool it is wiped away. Sallow skin appears. Sunken eyes. Chapped lips dragging on a cigarette. The cotton wool is thrown away. Stained. Drenched in colour. Beautiful.
Copyright, D M Day, 2016