31 May 2005

Occupant of room one...


Occupant one
Originally uploaded by lestatoberon.


It amazes me the interconnectedness of life. I thought of one applicant to my bedroom last night after posting and during rehearsal. And today like an ellipsoidal warming to project it's light on stage, entered one Jose. A Spanish dancer who came into my life 4 years ago.

He was devilishly handsome and had great charm. His choreography was clean and he took no shit from anyone. He commands his dancers as I command my actors. With harsh brush strokes governed by a tender heart. Originally, I had known him as background dancer in Finian's Rainbow. I was a specialty make-up artist, who helped the men with there lack of stage cosmetics (It never ceases to amaze me how I always apply the face to the very boys I fall for). I would, with a float and glide, smear the face of that young man until perfection hit and I would have to work on my masterpiece (turning a Puerto Rican white, then black, and then finally white again [I know you have to read the script to understand]). I will never forget the night that we shared exploring the "orange" and the moment I found out he still was holding his ex novio in his heart. We where to the peeling of the orange part and so I stopped and could not continue in the drunkennesss of lust.

Later when his ex novio found out we had shared a night (and nothing else) he went into a rage, which prompted his rage to tell me he never wanted to see or hear from me again. After weeks of being in the same department with him (and fortunately he never knew I understood Spanish) I heard many harsh and disturbing things. I never thought I would see him again.

The light passed and I felt your warmth, but no longer can I take this false light...

As he walked up to me, we shook hands and asked how each other were, and I new I had to close the door because the shadows in that room where no longer alive, and that room must go on unvisited...

hasta luego,

Lestat

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