Thursday, April 29, 2004
It's late and I should go to bed. I've got papers to grade and a whole pile of art projects to work on, lines to learn, scripts to read, and an idea for a play that keeps yammering at me like a drill. ..and now I've lost my train of thought because the reporter standing next to me keeps grilling me on what I'm writing. How about: "Leave me alone so I can write something."
I digress.
Anyway, now I'm completely derailed, so this entirely pointless blog entry will just have to stew for a while until my inspiration returns. I hate that it comes like that. I should move to a deserted island so I can make stuff, as it seems to be the only way I do anything worthwhile is when I am alone.
I digress.
Anyway, now I'm completely derailed, so this entirely pointless blog entry will just have to stew for a while until my inspiration returns. I hate that it comes like that. I should move to a deserted island so I can make stuff, as it seems to be the only way I do anything worthwhile is when I am alone.
genealogy search
Sunday, April 25, 2004
Theatre ghost makes herself known
Yep. I was the last one out of the building, and wouldn't you know it, she was there, too suddenly for me to do anything about it.
I was wrapping up, cleaning up some props and costumes in the basement costume shop, and I heard the door closing upstairs, signifying that I was all alone in the Fine Arts building. Only a moment later, I started to get the sensation--the hairs on my arms and the back of my neck started to stand up, and I felt the slightly breathless/nauseous/cold feeling stirring inside me. It was almost as though I heard, or felt, this sudden recognition: "You!"
Fortunately, I was nearing completion and had already collected my gear and put my jacket on.
I was compelled to hasten my departure, both by the sudden cold and the swelling nausea. My tooth started to bleed, another sign.
I had to go through the darkened hall, up the stairs, through the scene shop and out into the lobby before making my escape from the building. The scene shop is ajacent to the stage, separated only by one of those vinyl accordian dividers. It was open in the center. I heard the slightest noise coming from the stage area-- the smallest of movements, a shifting or a rustle of clothing.
She was there.
I could not look, darting past the opening and smacking into the door at high velocity. Only a few paces to the lobby door, and yet I could feel her presence right behind me--she wanted me to see her, and I desperately wanted to avoid seeing her. I felt a strong desire to throw up but managed to hold it down until the blast of fresh air from the outside hit my face. My car was the only vehicle in the parking lot. I sprinted toward it, not looking back.
In the car, I would not even look back at the building as I left.
Something very bad happened to her. I'm not sure if I want to understand what it was.
Yep. I was the last one out of the building, and wouldn't you know it, she was there, too suddenly for me to do anything about it.
I was wrapping up, cleaning up some props and costumes in the basement costume shop, and I heard the door closing upstairs, signifying that I was all alone in the Fine Arts building. Only a moment later, I started to get the sensation--the hairs on my arms and the back of my neck started to stand up, and I felt the slightly breathless/nauseous/cold feeling stirring inside me. It was almost as though I heard, or felt, this sudden recognition: "You!"
Fortunately, I was nearing completion and had already collected my gear and put my jacket on.
I was compelled to hasten my departure, both by the sudden cold and the swelling nausea. My tooth started to bleed, another sign.
I had to go through the darkened hall, up the stairs, through the scene shop and out into the lobby before making my escape from the building. The scene shop is ajacent to the stage, separated only by one of those vinyl accordian dividers. It was open in the center. I heard the slightest noise coming from the stage area-- the smallest of movements, a shifting or a rustle of clothing.
She was there.
I could not look, darting past the opening and smacking into the door at high velocity. Only a few paces to the lobby door, and yet I could feel her presence right behind me--she wanted me to see her, and I desperately wanted to avoid seeing her. I felt a strong desire to throw up but managed to hold it down until the blast of fresh air from the outside hit my face. My car was the only vehicle in the parking lot. I sprinted toward it, not looking back.
In the car, I would not even look back at the building as I left.
Something very bad happened to her. I'm not sure if I want to understand what it was.
genealogy search
