A Dream Concerning Drama

I had a dream last night that I've been thinking about all day.  I have felt like I need to type it out before it will make sense, but I haven't felt like it's writing material.  But I happened across a piece a friend of mine wrote.  She started by stating that she hasn't written in a while because she has had nothing to say, and still has nothing to say, but the blank screen in front of her is begging her for words.  So she typed, and was honest, and came out with this amazing paragraph or two, the kind that you could print off and put in a scrapbook of inspirational honesty that may be a little cheesy, but the honesty demands you heed the simple wisdom most people forget.  So I decided I'm going to write this.

I will be a college freshman in less than a month.  It is time for me to choose my courses.  I have always imagined myself as more of a math and science person than a creative humanities person.  I think I bought into the message society sends, that art is worthless, only proven facts, and by extension the provers of the facts, are worth fighting to become.  I've grown to admire artists for not only their talent, but for their perseverance, expecially in the face of all the competition and obstacles our culture presents for them.  I think I've also come to discover a bit of an artist in me, greater than the scientist in me.  But I don't believe I have what it takes to be an artist as a profession. 

I was planning on taking a history class, but none of them fit into my schedule.  None of the other pre-reqs I could take fit into my schedule either.  As a last resort, I registered for basic drawing, thinking it could transfer as an elective.  But I have been doubting the wisdom of this decision. 

I had a dream last night.  It was a rather long dream, so I will only tell the parts that seem relevant.  I was in my old school, the one full of people I do not like.  In the dream it was set up the way it was before they remodeled it since I've left.  Mr. M's drama room was right next too Mrs. L's art room at the end of an offset hallway.  For some reason, I was down this hallway and heading back towards the main body of the school.  people were bustling about everywhere.  Mr. M was talking to another memeber of the staff, but when he saw me walking in the opposite direction, he asked me what was going on, I told him what I knew, then when I started on my way again, he stopped me and said "You better be in my (drama) class this semester."  I had the feeling it was my last semester.  As I approached his classroom, I tried to see who was inside, who to prepare to see.  I was ready for the worst.  I saw many people I've met, all of whom very full of themselves, except one girl who is a year younger than me.  I met her at my second high school.  We are friends.

In real life, Mr. M was my drama teacher in seventh and eight grade, as well as my eight grade leadership class, which sounds like a lame class but it was actually really good.  The last time I was in a play, it was for his class.  "Ax of Murder".  I was Cassandra Tyree, the "Fortune Teller" who could "sense" where the play responsible for an increasing number of deaths was.  I got to do basically whatever I wanted on stage - nothing was too crazy for this character - with a loud, thick German accent.  I loved it and I received tons of positive feedback.  When my sister was in his drama class, he would torment my sister about me, and people would begin asking about me.  My sister reported that he said I could be a professional actress if I wanted to be one.  Which does carry quite a bit of weight, coming from him.

I would love to perform in a play again.  But the thing with plays is that they require so much prep time, and during that prep time you are with your fellow cast members.  You become a family with them, or you become a loner by yourself.  Obviously, being alone is never fun. And in what I have experienced and observed,  I do not like most of the personality types that become involved in drama club.  Granted, my experience and observations are limited to Junior high and High School drama clubs. 

I have searched for Shakespearean Theaters around where I live.  Sadly, I cannot find any.

I have been told a few of times by a few different people that I should be a model, a suggestion which I sincerely laugh at - the person I see in the mirror is not fit to be a model.  I wonder what they see?   But this has happened more than once, so I assume there is something to it. 

Earlier this summer, I received a letter in the mail that said someone I know thought I was a good candidate and would enjoy being in a pageant.  I have no idea who gave them my name.  It was not family, because they would have signed my sisters up as well.  I gave the decision more thought than I would want to say, but I ultimately decided against it.  The money involved was tempting (I have college to pay for!).  I decided that, flattering as it was, I would not model on principle.  I believe honest work is the only right way to advance one's self, and I would like to live as unmaterialistically as I can, I will not ask for blinders.  I would still greatly appreciate knowing who thought I would make a good pageant model.  Such a mystery!

Back to last night's dream.  I was traveling through a doorway in the hallway again, but this doorway looked smaller than the rest of the hall, and it was even smaller than it looked!  I barely managed to come out on the other side!  While I was struggling to pass through, I heard one of my uncles say something.  I don't remember what he said in the dream.  But When I was trying to remember what he said in the dream today, I remembered a couple of things he told me in real life:  God gave me every talent I have for a reason.   "Use it or loose it" applies to them - I have these talents, I am meant to use every single one of them (I'd be surprised what I can get out of them), but it's up to me to exercise them, else they will disappear over time.  These things he told me years ago are good things to be reminded of right now.

My mom has told me that she thinks I would make an excellent english teaher/theater director. i'm not so sure, to me it depends more on the people, and the age group. But it does sound appealing to me.

The last images of the dream involve standing on top of a mountain overlooking a huge gaping valley.  It was an unexpected and glorious image.  I was with one guy, who I met on my way there, but both of us could not see it at the same time.  We had a lot of fun getting there though, as we passed many different colored bushes (we called them rainbow bushes), we were laughing most of the way.  And we wanted to leap over the valley when we reached it, but we did not know that's where we were going.  It was an unexpected ending to the otherwise directionless journey we made.  I was traveling to escape a place I did not like, he decided to come with me.

"The Men of the East may spell the stars
and times and triumphs mark,
But the Men signed of the Cross of Christ
go gaily in the dark."
~ The Ballad of the White Horse

Concrete Girl
By Switchfoot

Bleeding thoughts
Cracking boulder
Don't fall over
Fake your laughter
Burn the tear
Sing it louder,
Twist and shout

Way up here
We stand on shoulders
Growing colder
Laugh or cry
I won't mind
Sing it louder,
Twist and shout

Immovable shadows
Concrete girl
They'll rock your world
To nothing
And they're swimming
Around again, again
And they're swimming
Around again, again
And they're swimming
Around the concrete girl

Catch your breath
Like four leaf clover
Hand it over

Scream to no one
Take your time
Sing it louder,
Twist and shout

Nothing to run from
Is worse than something
in all your fears
Of nothing
And they're swimming around
Again, again
And they're swimming around
The concrete girl

Concrete girl
Don't fall down
In this broken world
Around you
Concrete girl
Don't fall down
Don't fall down
My cocnrete girl

Don't stop thinking,
Don't stop feeling now

One step away
From where we were
And one step back
To nothing
And we're standing on top
Of our hopes and fears
And we're fighting for words now
Concrete girl
And we're swimming around
Again, again
And we're swimming around now
Concrete gir