Moment #4

Moment #4:  Stories

There can be no doubt that I was created to be a part of stories.  Stories that people see and experience. Yes, I know we all have stories of our own to tell and experience.  I know I do.  But I know that part of my personal story includes sharing the stories of others whom I have never actually known.

I have done a lot of theatre.  I will spare you the resume.  I hate listing the things I have been a part of.  It isn't that I am not proud of my work.  I am.  I just don't think people really want to know all that.  January, February and a smidgen of March of this year included roles in "The Laramie Project:  Ten Years Later."

A Visual for You

This show is like nothing I have never done before.  All the "characters" are not really characters at all but real people speaking their own words.  Nothing embellished.  Nothing fictional.  Just the truth from their perspectives and honest responses to probing questions.

It was magical.

And terrifying.

I have portrayed actual people on stage before, fictionalized accounts of historical figures.   There is nothing fictional about this show.  It is achingly painful misted with hope and a dash of despair.   Pain because of what was done to Matthew.  Pain because of the thorns that entangled the truth of the matter over the years.  Pain that a person can do something so terrible to another.

And pain because I know I am not so different.

Hope because out of anguish comes growth and change.  Hope because there can be beauty from ashes.  Hope because there is still goodness in humanity.  

And hope because I can do my small part to be the change I long for.

I recognize that I am being vague in my descriptions.  I suppose that is because I do not have the ability to articulate my reactions to being a part of something like this.  

My script

denial

recognition

swept under the rug

change

ignore

stories

A couple of weeks after the closing of this show I can tell you that what I have taken away from this is my own ability to configure my past to a story of my liking.  That I am so capable of twisting the truth was shocking to me but in order to live in truth I have to admit my shortcomings.  I want my mistakes to be dismissed.  I want my failings to be beautiful.  I do not want to acknowledge my own brutality...but that does not mean they are not there nor does it mean they did not happen.  

So what to do with that?

I come to the same word that has plagued me this past year:  Honesty

Own it.  Admit it.  Change it.  Be honest.

There is so much more to say but this post has become increasingly discombobulated so I will spare you the rest of my ramblings.   

Matthew Shepard