Show-Stopping Number

Big Red Tent:

My earliest memory of traveling to New York instead of living in the city involves the Big Apple Circus. I believe that the circus is still around during certain times of the year. I can understand the saying "ran away to join the circus" now. It truly is a place filled with magic and fantasies. It's a place filled with Cracker-Jacks, acrobatic-elephants, soccer-playing seals, lions that smile, lion tamers with fake fear, clowns with fake age, magicians with fake magic, and people who fly with the aid of magic chalk-dust.

It is a place where extraordinary events take place before our very eyes, and we as the audience are caught up in the mystical moment. We see and old grandmother clown drink a magic potion and become a young clown. We see her get shot out of a cannon and survive unharmed. We see gold coins appear from a black, tall, felt hat. And we see the magician with a wave of his cape, transform the clown into a beautiful lady. And she can sing, and dance, and compose a musical ballad with other clowns running around with differently sized bells. And then we see an innocent girl lion tamer cautiously approach a great beast. The beast roars and she dashes into the arms of the beautiful lady. The lady transforms into a mother. And she uses the magician's hat to sprinkle some gold glitter over the girl called "Courage". And All three dance in harmony as acrobats fly through the air in triumph.

We are moved by the story, because we are the story. We tell stories of struggle, fear, and desires. And we wish so very hard for a potion, a magic cape, or a magic hat that can fulfill our desires. For a moment in the big red tent, we can let go of all our impulses and watch them unfold in a dramatic and victorious fashion. And as we leave, a starry night greats our eyes full of starry wonder.

And we love painfully as we wave goodbye to the place that we ran away to.

Musical:

Broadway. It's just a single word, but it carries much beauty, elegance, impression, and meaning. When you go to see a show on Broadway, you know you're going to dress a little nicer, carry yourself taller, and smile slightly with excitement. My very first was Phantom of The Opera. And how could I describe it other than enchanting?

Although we may be caught up in a world full of silver-screens, I would still highly recommend going to a theater. This was the birthplace of acting out the great stories that people told each other. It then grew into a carefully-crafted art with lighting, scenery, visual effects, singing, dancing, an entire orchestra, masterful composition, play-writing, and of course actors. And when stories are thrown into such an environment, they evolve to be greater and more enthralling than a retelling between friends.

And oftentimes, I get to thinking. Aren't we all dressing up in costumes, trying on different masks, wearing different hats, and playing with other characters? Aren't we all just actors out of work? And i believe that yes, we were born with this talent. But questions of reality and intention are often too muddy to sort out. And I like to believe that sometimes, the truth is over-rated. Telling a great story about the fish that was "THIS BIG!" is sometimes more real than anything else. And as long as you can laugh at your own story, perhaps the importance of truth vanishes in that fraction of a moment.

So, I believe that we should tell the stories that we want to tell. Craft them well. Be a character. And maybe one day, our narrative will become an Odyssey.