[stylist] Writing exercise

[Bridgit Kuenning-Pollpeter]

Wrote this since I haven't wrote in a while. Just making sure I still got
it, smile, haven't lost the ability. Thought I would share. It's about what
it's like when I perform.

Bridgit

The stage is filled with sets, creating a scene. Two-dimensional structures,
illustrated with paint, bring to life a vision for the audience. Lights set
the mood.

In the wings, I see the reality. Glow-in-the-dark tape covers the stage,
markings for actors and sets. Backless structures supported by wooden rails.
Cast and crew running about backstage in all manner of dress and urgency.

Perring around the corner, silhouettes sit beyond the edge of lights beaming
from around the stage.

I breathe deeply. Wriggling, pricking sensations shoot to each nerve ending.
Squatting on my feet, I tense each part of my body then slowly release one
part at a time. As I stand, limbs liquid and loose, my mind empties. A
whisper in my ear informs me my cue is up.

I walk to center stage, my high-heeled shoes clicking on the floor. My red
gown whispers with each step. Standing on a square of orange tape, I stare
into the glare of stage light.

Music swells up from the orchestra pit. For a fleeting moment, I forget the
words. They are gone, and I feel the panic pulse up to my throat,
constricting it. The intro ends, and my note hits.

"Think of me, think of me fondly, when we say goodbye."

It pours from my mouth, rich and velvet. Tonal reverberations flutter
against my chest and temples. Lost in the melody, all I know is the sound
shivering through my body, the the cadence seeping into my pores. Lyrics
land on notes soaring around me, perching throughout the auditorium.

The aria expands, filling the entire space. You can breathe in, taste it,
sweet and rich. It slides around you, a silky garment leaving goosebumps
wherever it touches.

The crescendo burst, a geyser of sound rushing from my head. Full and
strong, it laps against the ceiling. It falls, soft and warm, an iridescent
mist settling on me, the stage, the audience.

Elation pulses through my veins. My head is light, I feel as though the
music has lifted me above the ground. Applause and cheers dampen the space.
Each - clap - is - heard - one - a - time. The sound centers me. We have
experienced intimacy, the audience and I.

I stripped my soul bear, exposing my heart. The symphonic sound flowed from
my core through my mouth, kissing you, tugging at your own heart. Together
we dove into one another, exploring sensations. A chord connected us,
vibrating with intensity each time it was plucked. Cresting on each swell,
we fell together, resting in the shallows as the tones lessen and quiet.

I finally feel weight again as my mind and body attach again. I move
extemporaneously to choreographed stage directions, thinking one line ahead,
ready to move forward, yet still caught in the glow of the limelight.