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Towards the end of a long rehearsal it gets more and more difficult for me to break character. Indeed by the time a few hours have gone by and it�s nearly time to go home, I am so lost in this new identity�s physicality that it takes more than a hug goodbye from the director to walk a little less like a Ira. The exception being only when Peggy and Ira are dancing. It is strange, the way Ira seems to trip over her own feet (two butches dancing and who�s leading is more of a battle than a question), the way she concedes her masculinity to the older more dominant character of Peggy. It seems that Ira is on the verge of a giggle. I break character when Susan pulls me into her arms. I am all of two left feet and twirling. And I giggle. I am young and femme and so completely lost in the moment that I forget which lines are coming next. I am honest and off guard and it makes Ira more real. I break character and try not to break my heart. How dizzying it is to whirl with a steelier strange facsimile of Verona. . How Rude! - Wednesday, Sept. 22, 2004 - 12:16 PM One small step but no giant leap. - Tuesday, Sept. 30, 2003 - 11:17 AM Where's George? - Thursday, Sept. 25, 2003 - 12:48 PM |
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a Nifty design 
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