I didn't keep many records of that dark period in my life, when I wanted to die. I did keep a few tapes I did 14 years ago though, when I recorded myself, reading at first sight, 3 plays written by French play writers. "Berenice" and "Britannicus" by Jean Racine and "Caligula" by Albert Camus. Those plays are highly featured in the background of my book, as one of the protagonist is an actor who, to his dismay, is slowly becoming the characters he portrays, until he reaches the brinks of dementia.
As I am rewriting that book now and I don't have access to the written plays anymore, I decided to pop in the old tapes and listen to what I did so many years ago. Even though I come from a theater family, having watched hundred of plays and saw my parents teach and play themselves, I am no actor myself. I have no training and never wanted to become one either. One could think I have inherited the talent, but in normal circumstances I am not able to perform the way I did on the tapes. Something more then normal happened then.
Today I listened to "Berenice". There are 6 characters. 4 males and 2 females. Now what floors me is that this was a reading at first sight, with no prior plans, no direction, no idea how the reading would go or how the scenes where following each other and the progression of emotions. Yet, each character has it's own voice, it's own world of emotion and keeps being consistent the whole way.
When listening to the play, it almost never shows that I am reading it, not having a clue what the next verse or next emotion will be. Everything flows just right as if I knew what I was doing. Characters answer each other in their own voice and in character without any pause creating the effect that there are actually 6 characters in there.
From time to time the magic is broken. I mess up a word or the rhythm of a verse and then I see what I really sound like when it's just me. It sucks. My mom told me today she remembered those tapes I had the courage to show her back then. She said she had liked the rendition and that sometimes she couldn't even recognize my voice. This makes sense to me, as even me I can't recognize most of it as being me. The creepiest thing is when I did Caligula and discovering with each line how crazy he was and feeling those emotions as being mine. I did 20 minutes of that play on tape and got so scared by the result that I stopped there and never finished. It gives me goose bumps every time to hear my own voice, slightly changed, telling the tells of a demented man.
There seems to be no limits to what I can connect to, to feel everything in someone's world. It can be real people, dead people, high level energy beings or characters that don't even really exist but are somehow channeled through me. In a similar way I feel I am channeling the characters of my book as they talk to me and I write. I don't feel like a writer as I can't correct any of it really. I can only correct if the character starts talking again or I hear the narration being whispered to me.
It seems that I connect primarily through emotions. Through touch I can feel people's feelings like there is no barriers between them and me and through feeling and strong emotions for someone the same thing happens.
I am overwhelmed beyond words to realize the strength of those emotions. I am very judgmental with everything I do, I am always very adamant to criticize and pinpoint everything that is wrong. Yet, when something feels it was channeled through those deep emotions, I develop a deep love for it. I can't see it as being my own only. I know there is more to it that encompasses a world that overwhelms me. That's how I feel with my novel and those taped plays and even Edgar Cayce at the moment. Something that feels way bigger then what I am and I am just trying to open my heart big enough to receive it all.
No comments:
Post a Comment