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Part of: 's Journal Poem from which I got my signature |
Date Posted: 07-02-2006 at 07:10 PM Comments(0) |
| Just got to love this poem: LIFE WHILE-You-WAIT by Wislawa Szymborska Life While – You - Wait. Performance without rehearsal. Body without alterations. Head without premeditation. I know nothing of the role I play. I only know its mine, I can't exchange it. I have to guess on the spot just what this play's all about. Ill-prepared for the privilege of living, I can barely keep up with the pace that the action demands. I improvise, although I loathe improvisation. I trip at every step over my own ignorance. I can't conceal my hayseed manners. My instincts are for hammy histrionics. Stagefright makes excuses for me which humiliate me more. Extenuating circumstances strike me as cruel. Words and impulses you can never take back, stars you'll never get counted, your character like an overcoat you button on the run--- the pitiful result of all this unexpectedness. If I could just rehearse one Wednesday in advance, or repeat a single Thursday that has passed! But here comes Friday with a script I haven't seen. Is it fair, I ask (my voice a little hoarse since I couldn't even clear my throat offstage.) You'd be wrong to think it's just a slapdash quiz taken in makeshift accommodations. Oh no. I'm standing on the set and I see how strong it is. The props are surprisingly precise. The machine rotating the stage has been around even longer. The farthest galaxies have been turned on. Oh no, there's no question this must be the premiere. And whatever I do will become forever what I've done. |
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