Today I was an actor. For the second time in as many days, I stood up on the bare stage (almost bare anyway, just a table and a few scattered chairs) and I acted. This is a new thing for me. And when it was over-- it was closing night-- people told me that I was good. Not even good-- GREAT. AMAZING. I got three different bunches of flowers. After four years of rejection, there I was, a star. Or almost, anyway, except my character was a little crazy and not exactly a lead, but it was the character I wanted to play and I had the most expensive light in the entire play shining only on me. Life is beautiful.
The play was J.B. and I was the Second Messenger. And for just a minute, I was a star, I was living my dream ever since the day I walked into auditions for the first play in my freshman year. Of course now the fleeting glory is gone, and I can't do the next play because my parents think it's too "stressful". Already my lines, my blocking, what it felt like to stand on that stage, is slipping away from me. The director said that plays were "ephemeral" and I think I now understand what he meant.
"I only am escaped alone to tell thee."
--My favorite line, lest I forget it