[stylist] Writing exercise

[Barbara HAMMEL]

I've never done a solo but this takes me to those Christmas and Easter musicals I performed in. Although I have great stage fright, I can totally understand why people get addicted to that feeling of euphoria and why they love going out there every day.
Barbara

Sent from my iPhone

> On Apr 14, 2015, at 15:05, Bridgit Kuenning-Pollpeter via stylist <stylist at nfbnet.org> wrote:
> 
> 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.
> 
> 
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