In drama class, for over a month now, we've been working on a Canadian One Act Play, written by... actually I don't know who wrote it, but it's entitled "Problem Child". We were supposed to perform last Thursday. THEN, we were supposed to perform Tuesday. Then yesterday. And now, (hopefully), we'll get to perform today. But group members keep skipping out on rehearsal and it's pissing me off.
So, I took some more time to work on it tonight. I'm playing RJ, a man. We wrap up my boobs and I wear a hat to cover my hair and everything. It's wicked. So I've been working on the change in my posture, swaying instead of putting all my weight on one leg - you know, stuff like that.
Anyways, I thought I'd share an excerpt with you this morning! :)
Denise: I told him what she said to me. That I won't be getting the baby 'cause I don't go to church and I don't cook.
RJ: She said that?
Denise: Yeah she said that.
RJ: She said :I'm sorry Denise but you can't have your child back because we've found out you're a lousy cook?"
Denise: Yes! She said that! Exactly!
RJ: And so you killed her?!
Denise: I didn't kill her.
RJ: No you didn't kill her. You thought about killing her with the gun you told me you didn't have but you didn't really kill her. Oh you squeezed her hand a little. But that was it. Come on, Denise. There's a lot of blood in that bathroom. A lot!
Denise: I didn't kill her. I didn't kill her, I'm telling you!
RJ: Good thing I didn't go in there unprepared. If I'd gone in there not knowing... All that blood. Good thing I went right for the TV. I mean you're down on me watching television but it's a damn good ting I wanted to watch television instead of taking a piss, or I might really be fucked up now! Because I would've thought that was your blood. Your blood. And I would've though you'd hurt yourself. Really bad... And I would have freaked... Okay. But that didn't happen. Something else happened. Let's try and stay with what really happened.
Denise: Good idea...
RJ: She died?
Denise: Yeah.
RJ: Accidentally.
Denise. Ah... Yeah...
RJ: You got Phillie on your side and he helped you get rid of the body.
Denise: Yeah.
RJ: Because you had to... because you couldn't call the goddamn police or a goddamn ambulance like most people... even though it was a fucking accident you had to get rid of the body. Sure. That makes sense! Oh my God. On my God what have you done. We could have appealed. She wasn't the only social worker in this city. We could have appealed. (he grabs Denise) You didn't have to kill her. Killing her was not the right thing to do!
Denise: Listen to me!
RJ: It was a bad idea! Bad bad bad-
Denise: Listen to me. Listen!
RJ: Bad!
Thursday, December 22, 2011
Wednesday, December 21, 2011
New Song Coming Along!
A while ago now, I started a song. And the inspiration stopped suddenly, and I found that I couldn't go further with it. Well. I found it the other day and was playing around with ideas - and some of them actually work! ;) Which excites me. I'd like to finish it before Christmas - just as long as school doesn't get in my way! :)
Oh! And I made one of the One Act Plays at school! Pretty awesome, I'd say. I seriously can't wait. It'll be a fun change from A Midsummer Night's Dream! But I am going to have A LOT on my plate for next semester. Three tough classes. Writer's Craft, a Family Psych course, and English. Yikes. I'm going to be writing A LOT. Oh well. Better sleep now while I can!
:)
Oh! And I made one of the One Act Plays at school! Pretty awesome, I'd say. I seriously can't wait. It'll be a fun change from A Midsummer Night's Dream! But I am going to have A LOT on my plate for next semester. Three tough classes. Writer's Craft, a Family Psych course, and English. Yikes. I'm going to be writing A LOT. Oh well. Better sleep now while I can!
:)
More Puck 5 ;)
Now the hungry lion roars,
And the wolf behowls the moon;
Whilst the heavy ploughman snores,
All with weary task fordone.
Now the wasted brands do glow,
Whilst the screech-owl, screeching loud,
Puts the wretch that lies in woe
In remembrance of a shroud.
Now it is the time of night
That the graves all gaping wide,
Every one lets forth his sprite,
In the church-way paths to glide:
And we fairies, that do run
By the triple Hecate's team,
From the presence of the sun,
Following darkness like a dream,
Now are frolic: not a mouse
Shall disturb this hallow'd house:
I am sent with broom before,
To sweep the dust behind the door.
And the wolf behowls the moon;
Whilst the heavy ploughman snores,
All with weary task fordone.
Now the wasted brands do glow,
Whilst the screech-owl, screeching loud,
Puts the wretch that lies in woe
In remembrance of a shroud.
Now it is the time of night
That the graves all gaping wide,
Every one lets forth his sprite,
In the church-way paths to glide:
And we fairies, that do run
By the triple Hecate's team,
From the presence of the sun,
Following darkness like a dream,
Now are frolic: not a mouse
Shall disturb this hallow'd house:
I am sent with broom before,
To sweep the dust behind the door.
More Puck 4!!
The king doth keep his revels here to-night:
Take heed the queen come not within his sight;
For Oberon is passing fell and wrath,
Because that she as her attendant hath
A lovely boy, stolen from an Indian king;
She never had so sweet a changeling;
And jealous Oberon would have the child
Knight of his train, to trace the forests wild;
But she perforce withholds the loved boy,
Crowns him with flowers and makes him all her joy:
And now they never meet in grove or green,
By fountain clear, or spangled starlight sheen,
But, they do square, that all their elves for fear
Creep into acorn-cups and hide them there.
Take heed the queen come not within his sight;
For Oberon is passing fell and wrath,
Because that she as her attendant hath
A lovely boy, stolen from an Indian king;
She never had so sweet a changeling;
And jealous Oberon would have the child
Knight of his train, to trace the forests wild;
But she perforce withholds the loved boy,
Crowns him with flowers and makes him all her joy:
And now they never meet in grove or green,
By fountain clear, or spangled starlight sheen,
But, they do square, that all their elves for fear
Creep into acorn-cups and hide them there.
More Puck 3!
Thou speak'st aright;
I am that merry wanderer of the night.
I jest to Oberon and make him smile
When I a fat and bean-fed horse beguile,
Neighing in likeness of a filly foal:
And sometime lurk I in a gossip's bowl,
In very likeness of a roasted crab,
And when she drinks, against her lips I bob
And on her wither'd dewlap pour the ale.
The wisest aunt, telling the saddest tale,
Sometime for three-foot stool mistaketh me;
Then slip I from her bum, down topples she,
And 'tailor' cries, and falls into a cough;
And then the whole quire hold their hips and laugh,
And waxen in their mirth and neeze and swear
A merrier hour was never wasted there.
But, room, fairy! here comes Oberon.
I am that merry wanderer of the night.
I jest to Oberon and make him smile
When I a fat and bean-fed horse beguile,
Neighing in likeness of a filly foal:
And sometime lurk I in a gossip's bowl,
In very likeness of a roasted crab,
And when she drinks, against her lips I bob
And on her wither'd dewlap pour the ale.
The wisest aunt, telling the saddest tale,
Sometime for three-foot stool mistaketh me;
Then slip I from her bum, down topples she,
And 'tailor' cries, and falls into a cough;
And then the whole quire hold their hips and laugh,
And waxen in their mirth and neeze and swear
A merrier hour was never wasted there.
But, room, fairy! here comes Oberon.
More Puck 2 ;)
Through the forest have I gone.
But Athenian found I none,
On whose eyes I might approve
This flower's force in stirring love.
Night and silence.--Who is here?
Weeds of Athens he doth wear:
This is he, my master said,
Despised the Athenian maid;
And here the maiden, sleeping sound,
On the dank and dirty ground.
Pretty soul! she durst not lie
Near this lack-love, this kill-courtesy.
Churl, upon thy eyes I throw
All the power this charm doth owe.
When thou wakest, let love forbid
Sleep his seat on thy eyelid:
So awake when I am gone;
For I must now to Oberon.
But Athenian found I none,
On whose eyes I might approve
This flower's force in stirring love.
Night and silence.--Who is here?
Weeds of Athens he doth wear:
This is he, my master said,
Despised the Athenian maid;
And here the maiden, sleeping sound,
On the dank and dirty ground.
Pretty soul! she durst not lie
Near this lack-love, this kill-courtesy.
Churl, upon thy eyes I throw
All the power this charm doth owe.
When thou wakest, let love forbid
Sleep his seat on thy eyelid:
So awake when I am gone;
For I must now to Oberon.
More Puck :)
My mistress with a monster is in love.
Near to her close and consecrated bower,
While she was in her dull and sleeping hour,
A crew of patches, rude mechanicals,
That work for bread upon Athenian stalls,
Were met together to rehearse a play
Intended for great Theseus' nuptial-day.
The shallowest thick-skin of that barren sort,
Who Pyramus presented, in their sport
Forsook his scene and enter'd in a brake
When I did him at this advantage take,
An ass's nole I fixed on his head:
Anon his Thisbe must be answered,
And forth my mimic comes. When they him spy,
As wild geese that the creeping fowler eye,
Or russet-pated choughs, many in sort,
Rising and cawing at the gun's report,
Sever themselves and madly sweep the sky,
So, at his sight, away his fellows fly;
And, at our stamp, here o'er and o'er one falls;
He murder cries and help from Athens calls.
Their sense thus weak, lost with their fears
thus strong,
Made senseless things begin to do them wrong;
For briers and thorns at their apparel snatch;
Some sleeves, some hats, from yielders all
things catch.
I led them on in this distracted fear,
And left sweet Pyramus translated there:
When in that moment, so it came to pass,
Titania waked and straightway loved an ass.
Near to her close and consecrated bower,
While she was in her dull and sleeping hour,
A crew of patches, rude mechanicals,
That work for bread upon Athenian stalls,
Were met together to rehearse a play
Intended for great Theseus' nuptial-day.
The shallowest thick-skin of that barren sort,
Who Pyramus presented, in their sport
Forsook his scene and enter'd in a brake
When I did him at this advantage take,
An ass's nole I fixed on his head:
Anon his Thisbe must be answered,
And forth my mimic comes. When they him spy,
As wild geese that the creeping fowler eye,
Or russet-pated choughs, many in sort,
Rising and cawing at the gun's report,
Sever themselves and madly sweep the sky,
So, at his sight, away his fellows fly;
And, at our stamp, here o'er and o'er one falls;
He murder cries and help from Athens calls.
Their sense thus weak, lost with their fears
thus strong,
Made senseless things begin to do them wrong;
For briers and thorns at their apparel snatch;
Some sleeves, some hats, from yielders all
things catch.
I led them on in this distracted fear,
And left sweet Pyramus translated there:
When in that moment, so it came to pass,
Titania waked and straightway loved an ass.
Puck's Final Monologue
If we shadows have offended,
Think but this, and all is mended,
That you have but slumber'd here
While these visions did appear.
And this weak and idle theme,
No more yielding but a dream,
Gentles, do not reprehend:
if you pardon, we will mend:
And, as I am an honest Puck,
If we have unearned luck
Now to 'scape the serpent's tongue,
We will make amends ere long;
Else the Puck a liar call;
So, good night unto you all.
Give me your hands, if we be friends,
And Robin shall restore amends.
Think but this, and all is mended,
That you have but slumber'd here
While these visions did appear.
And this weak and idle theme,
No more yielding but a dream,
Gentles, do not reprehend:
if you pardon, we will mend:
And, as I am an honest Puck,
If we have unearned luck
Now to 'scape the serpent's tongue,
We will make amends ere long;
Else the Puck a liar call;
So, good night unto you all.
Give me your hands, if we be friends,
And Robin shall restore amends.
Wednesday, December 14, 2011
Puck
:) Can you believe that in a few months, I am going to be performing at the Grand Theatre for A Midsummer Night's Dream?
Yeah, me neither.
I got the phone call yesterday night and completely flipped. I'm playing Puck. I think I've surprised a lot of people by getting this role - which is awesome. I can only hope that I make em' proud.
SO, I've started getting into character. Studying, and such, if you will. It's going to take me a while, but I'm so excited to be a part of such a magical play.
Yeah, me neither.
I got the phone call yesterday night and completely flipped. I'm playing Puck. I think I've surprised a lot of people by getting this role - which is awesome. I can only hope that I make em' proud.
SO, I've started getting into character. Studying, and such, if you will. It's going to take me a while, but I'm so excited to be a part of such a magical play.
Saturday, December 10, 2011
Sick and Tired.
The title to this blog post explains it all. I've felt deathly ill for about three days now. It's horrible. I had to perform for the Revue sick. My asthma has been out of whack. And I'm exhausted. Not physically. Emotionally. Mentally. I don't know how much more of these people I can take.
Call Backs are tomorrow. I'm not nervous. Not excited. Just worried. I'm super sick. I don't want them kicking me about because my nose is drooling or anything ;). I just want to do good. I want the experience. And tomorrow is another chance at that.
Also, auditions for the one acts at school start Wednesday. An acquaintance signed me up first, for Wednesday. I'm cool with that. No biggie or anything. But I DO have to have my One Act Play for drama class memorized this weekend. And I don't think I'll be able to. :/ Gaaaah. We're fucked. Because we're supposed to perform Thursday or Friday. I can't do it.
The Off-Broadway Revue is over. And that has relieved some of the stress. But now there's A Midsummer Night's Dream Auditions. One Act Auditions. And my One Act Play drama assignment to look forward to. Honestly, the withdrawl this time isn't that bad. It'd actually hardly here at all.
I think I might give Sarah a call soon.
Call Backs are tomorrow. I'm not nervous. Not excited. Just worried. I'm super sick. I don't want them kicking me about because my nose is drooling or anything ;). I just want to do good. I want the experience. And tomorrow is another chance at that.
Also, auditions for the one acts at school start Wednesday. An acquaintance signed me up first, for Wednesday. I'm cool with that. No biggie or anything. But I DO have to have my One Act Play for drama class memorized this weekend. And I don't think I'll be able to. :/ Gaaaah. We're fucked. Because we're supposed to perform Thursday or Friday. I can't do it.
The Off-Broadway Revue is over. And that has relieved some of the stress. But now there's A Midsummer Night's Dream Auditions. One Act Auditions. And my One Act Play drama assignment to look forward to. Honestly, the withdrawl this time isn't that bad. It'd actually hardly here at all.
I think I might give Sarah a call soon.
Saturday, December 03, 2011
Call Backs
I didn't end up blogging about it - but my audition went well (:. I was quite content. And just the other day, they called me up and asked me to attend the Call Backs! Which, I suppose, means I don't totally suck. ;)
It's an entire day. Sunday, December the eleventh! After the Revue, so I'll be stress-free!
I'm excited.
Oh. And I cleaned the house with SarBear. My room is wonderfully spotless. And we put up a mini-tree in my room. So cute.
I'm going to go and fold towels now. I'll write when something else interesting occurs in this box I call my so-called life! ;)
It's an entire day. Sunday, December the eleventh! After the Revue, so I'll be stress-free!
I'm excited.
Oh. And I cleaned the house with SarBear. My room is wonderfully spotless. And we put up a mini-tree in my room. So cute.
I'm going to go and fold towels now. I'll write when something else interesting occurs in this box I call my so-called life! ;)
Saturday, November 26, 2011
Audition Tomorrow
My audition for A Midsummer Night's dream is tomorrow, at 11:10 am. And I have to say that I'm just as excited as I am nervous. I've never actually auditioned for anything outside of my school, so it'll be a huge learning experience whether I am casted or not! :) That's what this next year has to be about for me. Experience.
So, by memory, and how I phrase sentences, here is my audition monologue. (Commas represent pauses - I know some are grammatically incorrect)
O, what a deal of scorn looks beautiful in the contempt, and anger of his lip!
A murderous guilt shows not itself more soon than love that would seem... hid: Love's night is noon...
Cesario! By the roses of the spring! By maidhood... honour... truth and every thing --
-- I love thee so! That, maugre all thy pride.
Nor wit, nor reason can my passion hide.
Do not extort they reasons from this clause,
For that, I woo... Thou therefore hast no cause...
But rather reason, thus with reason fetter,
Love sought is good but... Given unsought, better.
With only 12 lines, and about fifty-three seconds, I have to ensure that I show different sides of my acting abilities in this monologue. So, I've chosen 3 emotions/ideas/thoughts to flow into each other.... Here's the monologue again, written in the original 12-line form.
O, what a deal of scorn looks beautiful
In the contempt and anger of his lip!
A murderous guilt shows not itself more soon
Than love that would seem hid: Love's night is noon.
Cesario, by the roses of the spring
By maidhood, honour, truth and every thing
I love thee so, that, maugre all thy pride.
Nor wit, nor reason can my passion hide.
Do not extort thy reasons from this clause
For that I woo, thou therefore hast no cause.
But rather reason, thus with reason fetter
Love sought is good, but given unsought better.
*From lines 1-4 I play with the idea of romance. The way I move and think about Cesario is very romantic in that sense. All my movements are smooth, and close to my body.
*Then, from lines 5-8 I start to sound desperate. I open myself up completely to Cesario, and let go of the thoughts I began in lines 1-4. My arms open wide - my movements are far from my body, and almost separate from it. I'm hectic. Desperate to reach out and touch him, with my words, of course. ;)
*Finally, from lines 9-12 I'm trying to convince Cesario to love me back. This time, my movements are both close, and far from my body, but WITH my body.
:) I am such a drama nerd.
So, by memory, and how I phrase sentences, here is my audition monologue. (Commas represent pauses - I know some are grammatically incorrect)
O, what a deal of scorn looks beautiful in the contempt, and anger of his lip!
A murderous guilt shows not itself more soon than love that would seem... hid: Love's night is noon...
Cesario! By the roses of the spring! By maidhood... honour... truth and every thing --
-- I love thee so! That, maugre all thy pride.
Nor wit, nor reason can my passion hide.
Do not extort they reasons from this clause,
For that, I woo... Thou therefore hast no cause...
But rather reason, thus with reason fetter,
Love sought is good but... Given unsought, better.
With only 12 lines, and about fifty-three seconds, I have to ensure that I show different sides of my acting abilities in this monologue. So, I've chosen 3 emotions/ideas/thoughts to flow into each other.... Here's the monologue again, written in the original 12-line form.
O, what a deal of scorn looks beautiful
In the contempt and anger of his lip!
A murderous guilt shows not itself more soon
Than love that would seem hid: Love's night is noon.
Cesario, by the roses of the spring
By maidhood, honour, truth and every thing
I love thee so, that, maugre all thy pride.
Nor wit, nor reason can my passion hide.
Do not extort thy reasons from this clause
For that I woo, thou therefore hast no cause.
But rather reason, thus with reason fetter
Love sought is good, but given unsought better.
*From lines 1-4 I play with the idea of romance. The way I move and think about Cesario is very romantic in that sense. All my movements are smooth, and close to my body.
*Then, from lines 5-8 I start to sound desperate. I open myself up completely to Cesario, and let go of the thoughts I began in lines 1-4. My arms open wide - my movements are far from my body, and almost separate from it. I'm hectic. Desperate to reach out and touch him, with my words, of course. ;)
*Finally, from lines 9-12 I'm trying to convince Cesario to love me back. This time, my movements are both close, and far from my body, but WITH my body.
:) I am such a drama nerd.
Monday, November 21, 2011
Passion
I honestly don't understand how someone as little as me could have so much passion, ambition.
The nature of my passion contradicts my size, really - I shouldn't be able to have this much in me.
Ever since I was little I've wanted to be famous, for lack of a better word. I want to be remembered and I want the dream. I do. And I feel like I've been holding back. But if I could just get the change to do what some musicians do now - to perform in front of so many, to inspire the sparks behind the eyes of so many. I was to inspire the dream inside that one outspoken, little girl, who sings like she does breathes. Just a minute. That's all I'd need. A minute to show the world all the passion this little seventeen-year-old has to offer.
I'll find a way onto that stage. I will. No matter what.
The nature of my passion contradicts my size, really - I shouldn't be able to have this much in me.
Ever since I was little I've wanted to be famous, for lack of a better word. I want to be remembered and I want the dream. I do. And I feel like I've been holding back. But if I could just get the change to do what some musicians do now - to perform in front of so many, to inspire the sparks behind the eyes of so many. I was to inspire the dream inside that one outspoken, little girl, who sings like she does breathes. Just a minute. That's all I'd need. A minute to show the world all the passion this little seventeen-year-old has to offer.
I'll find a way onto that stage. I will. No matter what.
Sunday, November 20, 2011
Human.
I've never felt that I really fit any of the usual stereotypes for people in high school. Geek. Nerd. Prep. Etc.
I kind of find them a tad bit overrated, actually...
"You know how you think I'm a geek? I've figured out what you are."
'Do tell :)"
"A human."
"Very funny."
"No, it sounds stupid, but the way I see it, it's deeper than that."
"Humour me :P"
"Humans have emotions, nobody I know has such emotions more so than you. Humans have fears and problems, and so do you. And humans require love, and you want nothing more than to be loved. That's how I see it."
:)
I kind of find them a tad bit overrated, actually...
"You know how you think I'm a geek? I've figured out what you are."
'Do tell :)"
"A human."
"Very funny."
"No, it sounds stupid, but the way I see it, it's deeper than that."
"Humour me :P"
"Humans have emotions, nobody I know has such emotions more so than you. Humans have fears and problems, and so do you. And humans require love, and you want nothing more than to be loved. That's how I see it."
:)
Wednesday, November 16, 2011
Audition for A Midsummer Night's Dream
My audition for A Midsummer Night's Dream is on November, 27th, at 11:10am. It's a Sunday. And I'm not nervous yet. I'm really considering doing a short excerpt from Twelfth Night.
Olivia.
O, what a deal of scorn looks beautiful
In the contempt and anger of his lip!
A murderous guilt shows not itself more soon
Than love that would seem hid: love's night is noon.
Cesario, by the roses of the spring,
By maidhood, honour, truth and every thing,
I love thee so, that, maugre all thy pride,
Nor wit nor reason can my passion hide.
Do not extort thy reasons from this clause,
For that I woo, thou therefore hast no cause,
But rather reason thus with reason fetter,
Love sought is good, but given unsought better.
But I'm afraid it might be short-lived. Bland. Lacking of something. I think I only picked this one because I am in love with Olivia's character.
Hm.
Olivia.
O, what a deal of scorn looks beautiful
In the contempt and anger of his lip!
A murderous guilt shows not itself more soon
Than love that would seem hid: love's night is noon.
Cesario, by the roses of the spring,
By maidhood, honour, truth and every thing,
I love thee so, that, maugre all thy pride,
Nor wit nor reason can my passion hide.
Do not extort thy reasons from this clause,
For that I woo, thou therefore hast no cause,
But rather reason thus with reason fetter,
Love sought is good, but given unsought better.
But I'm afraid it might be short-lived. Bland. Lacking of something. I think I only picked this one because I am in love with Olivia's character.
Hm.
Monday, November 07, 2011
Birthday Wishes
Today was my seventeenth birthday. Yep. It came, and it's almost gone. To be honest - I video taped the exact moment when I changed (11:57am ;)).
I feel weird. Different. Not sure if I like it just yet though. Sixteen was a huge milestone for me. I had my first kiss. I went to New York and fell in love with Times Square. I got my first leading role as Anne Frank. I got my first second kiss. And my first third. I spent a day with myself painting my room and belting those few favourite songs that I know off-by heart. I spent the nights crying, and the days smiling. I spent half of my time over thinking things, and the other half taking action. Maybe sometimes the wrong actions. But at least I acted. My year of sixteen began naive. And somewhere along the way I became bitter and broken, and lost that pure part of myself. And it seems that a year from when I began naive, I am naive again. Not sure if I'm ready to let that all go. Not sure if I'm ready for seventeen. But I suppose I have no choice.
But I am starting naive again. That's what's important. My child-like ways will always end up finding their way back to me, that I know. :)
Seventeen. Hm.
It's a new year for me. And as I always do, I'll make a few promises to myself.
I vow to remain humble, genuine and naive. To love. To hate. To laugh. To inspire. To cry. To live.
This past year I spent finding and understanding a few different sides of myself, and I think that I'll spend the next year showing people what parts of Brianna Kane they've been missing.
Seventeen. The word is still so foreign to my tongue.
But like every other year, I'm sure this one will pass all too quickly.
Yeah. I'm ready.
Seventeen.
- Blk.
I feel weird. Different. Not sure if I like it just yet though. Sixteen was a huge milestone for me. I had my first kiss. I went to New York and fell in love with Times Square. I got my first leading role as Anne Frank. I got my first second kiss. And my first third. I spent a day with myself painting my room and belting those few favourite songs that I know off-by heart. I spent the nights crying, and the days smiling. I spent half of my time over thinking things, and the other half taking action. Maybe sometimes the wrong actions. But at least I acted. My year of sixteen began naive. And somewhere along the way I became bitter and broken, and lost that pure part of myself. And it seems that a year from when I began naive, I am naive again. Not sure if I'm ready to let that all go. Not sure if I'm ready for seventeen. But I suppose I have no choice.
But I am starting naive again. That's what's important. My child-like ways will always end up finding their way back to me, that I know. :)
Seventeen. Hm.
It's a new year for me. And as I always do, I'll make a few promises to myself.
I vow to remain humble, genuine and naive. To love. To hate. To laugh. To inspire. To cry. To live.
This past year I spent finding and understanding a few different sides of myself, and I think that I'll spend the next year showing people what parts of Brianna Kane they've been missing.
Seventeen. The word is still so foreign to my tongue.
But like every other year, I'm sure this one will pass all too quickly.
Yeah. I'm ready.
Seventeen.
- Blk.
Sunday, November 06, 2011
Dependent
I know I've been focusing more on theatre for a while, but I think it's time for me to get back to my roots. To the music. To song writing. To YouTbe videos. TO SINGING THE FUCK OUT OF MY CLASSMATES IN ART. ;)
I need that dependent back in my life. That one thing that is going to love me no matter what. That's what passion is; I've known music since birth, and since then, our lives have been inexplicably intertwined. That's how it should be in any relationship. You should meet, fall, kiss and lose yourself in each other. Music and I met, fell into the magic and possibility of each other, and have been figuratively making babies ever since! Haha. ;)
Someday (hopefully), I'll lose myself in someone. But today - right now - I'm already lost in music. Could I honestly ask for a better boyfriend?
Hehe. Didn't think so. :)
Love,
Bree
PS. Got a new camera as an early birthday present! So expect a lot more music (:
I need that dependent back in my life. That one thing that is going to love me no matter what. That's what passion is; I've known music since birth, and since then, our lives have been inexplicably intertwined. That's how it should be in any relationship. You should meet, fall, kiss and lose yourself in each other. Music and I met, fell into the magic and possibility of each other, and have been figuratively making babies ever since! Haha. ;)
Someday (hopefully), I'll lose myself in someone. But today - right now - I'm already lost in music. Could I honestly ask for a better boyfriend?
Hehe. Didn't think so. :)
Love,
Bree
PS. Got a new camera as an early birthday present! So expect a lot more music (:
Wednesday, November 02, 2011
Maybe Next Year...
If I were to direct my own Broadway Revue for next year, (haven't decided for sure yet if I'll pitch it to Bernard or not), this would be my song choices. (Mind you, it's just a rough!)
1. La Vie Boheme (full cast)
2. Favorite Things (small group)
3. The Wizard and I (solo)
4. All that Jazz OR Diamonds are a Girl's Best Friend (small Group)
5. What is This Feeling? (small group)
6. On My Own (solo)
7. Zero to Hero (small group)
8. Mama Mia (full cast)
- INTERMISSION -
9. Anything Goes (most of cast - split solos)
10. Part of Your World (solo)
11. Hakuna Matata (small group)
12. So Much Better (small group - split solos)
13. Sisters (duet)
14. Cell Block Tango (six girls, one guy)
15. Take Me or Leave Me (duet)
16. Footloose (full cast)
:) If only...
1. La Vie Boheme (full cast)
2. Favorite Things (small group)
3. The Wizard and I (solo)
4. All that Jazz OR Diamonds are a Girl's Best Friend (small Group)
5. What is This Feeling? (small group)
6. On My Own (solo)
7. Zero to Hero (small group)
8. Mama Mia (full cast)
- INTERMISSION -
9. Anything Goes (most of cast - split solos)
10. Part of Your World (solo)
11. Hakuna Matata (small group)
12. So Much Better (small group - split solos)
13. Sisters (duet)
14. Cell Block Tango (six girls, one guy)
15. Take Me or Leave Me (duet)
16. Footloose (full cast)
:) If only...
Tuesday, November 01, 2011
Audrey Hepburn Monologue (Script)
I really wanted to share this will all of you, so here's the final script for my Audrey Hepburn monologue! Video to follow. :)
Audrey Hepburn - Monologue
(Lights up to a dressing room with a rack of costumes, a make-up desk and a divider to change behind. AUDREY is sitting on the one-person couch in a little black dress, cigarette in one hand. Legs crossed or propped up onto the coffee table. She looks up towards the door – up left – because she hears someone enter/knocking.)
(VOICE CUE: We’ll be ready for you in ten, Audrey.)
(AUDREY nods and looks away pensively for another moment before addressing the audience. Cigarette in hand, she waits a moment before speaking.)
AUDREY (leans forward): I probably hold the distinction of being one movie star who, by all laws of logic, should never have made it. At each stage of my career, I lacked the experience. I was asked to act when I couldn’t act. I was asked to sing “Funny Face” when I couldn’t sing, and dance with Fred Astaire when I couldn’t dance- and do all kinds of things I wasn’t prepared for. Then I tried like mad to cope with it. I tried always to do better: saw always a little further. I tried to stretch myself. And over the years my relationship with the performance arts grew and has exceeded all my wildest expectations. It has become a huge part of who I am. I can remember when I began taking ballet classes when I was a little girl… (Stands and uses couch as bar and does some plies and ballet moves).
(AUDREY nods and looks away pensively for another moment before addressing the audience. Cigarette in hand, she waits a moment before speaking.)
AUDREY (leans forward): I probably hold the distinction of being one movie star who, by all laws of logic, should never have made it. At each stage of my career, I lacked the experience. I was asked to act when I couldn’t act. I was asked to sing “Funny Face” when I couldn’t sing, and dance with Fred Astaire when I couldn’t dance- and do all kinds of things I wasn’t prepared for. Then I tried like mad to cope with it. I tried always to do better: saw always a little further. I tried to stretch myself. And over the years my relationship with the performance arts grew and has exceeded all my wildest expectations. It has become a huge part of who I am. I can remember when I began taking ballet classes when I was a little girl… (Stands and uses couch as bar and does some plies and ballet moves).
AUDREY: My mother always loved to watch me dance. But my father…
(She stops and stands completely still, with her hand still rested on the couch. Staring at the floor.)
AUDREY: He disappeared when I was six. Just up and left us one day. Losing that part of my childhood so suddenly, well… It’s hard to try and forget that you were forgotten. It was probably the most traumatic event in my life.
AUDREY: (She regains her composure) But then again, I suppose it was right around the same time that I realised my affinity for the stage, so I was easily distracted from it all. And I turned out alright, I think.
AUDREY: (She moves to the desk and sits up straight. She begins to primp her face) I never thought I’d land in pictures with a face like mine. (Applying blush and obscene amounts of powder) To be quite frank, I think my look is attainable. Women can look like Audrey Hepburn by flipping out their hair, buying the large sunglasses, and the little sleeveless dresses.
(Applies mascara. Uses hand-held mirror. Very exact.)
AUDREY: Perfect. (Stands and walks to the rack of clothes, picking out another little black dress, with a pearl neckline, and black flats) I suppose I’ve always believed that I have none of the attributes usually required for a movie queen, including the shapeliness. I blame the war. (She winks and walks to behind the changing divider to change into her little black dress). But even so, I’ve always thought that there is more to sex appeal than just measurements. I don’t need a bedroom to prove my womanliness (Throws one shoulder dress over the top of the screen so it hangs. Peak around the corner of the screen to talk directly to the audience). I can convey just as much sex appeal, picking apples or standing in the rain.
AUDREY: (Back to changing. Slight pause to finish changing.) And if my world were to cave in tomorrow, (exit the screen and move makeup desk. When she gets to the desk she sits and primps her face more.) I would look back on all the pleasures and excitements I have been lucky enough to have had. Not the sadness, not my miscarriages or my father leaving home, but the joy of everything else. My success, Mel – and my darling baby boy, Sean… It will have been enough – all of it. Right down to the very last frame.
AUDREY (To the audience, with tube of lipstick opened in her hands): I just believe in the impossible, even though the way I see it: nothing is impossible. Even the word itself says “I’m possible!”
AUDREY(Applies lipstick): I believe in pink.
AUDREY (Smacks lips together: mwah! She laughs at her silliness and shuts lipstick tube): I believe that laughing is the best calorie burner. I believe in kissing. Kissing a lot. (Stand) I believe in being strong when everything seems to be going wrong. I believe that happy girls are the prettiest girls… And I believe that tomorrow is another day full of miracles. And I believe in miracles. I believe that the best thing to hold onto in life is each other. And that the most important thing is to enjoy your life – to be happy – because that’s all that ever matters in the end: happiness. (Picks up glasses off of makeup desk.)
(Pause. She walks UL to exit, and pauses for a short moment. She turns around, looking thoughtful.)
AUDREY: Everything I learned, I learned from the movies. I love movies not just because they are mere entertainment, or because it’s my job to love them. I love movies because they prepare me. They scare me. They move me. They made me. Everything I… (Stops and corrects herself, fidgeting with glasses) Everything we learned, we learned from the movies.
(VOICE CUE (about 3 seconds after AUDREY stops speaking): We’re ready for you on set, Audrey!)
(AUDREY smiles before putting on her glasses and exiting UL)
(AUDREY smiles before putting on her glasses and exiting UL)
(BLACKOUT)
Thursday, October 13, 2011
Audrey Hepburn Monologue Finished!
I just finished my historical monologue for Audrey Hepburn and I'm very happy with it! I've decided not to post it on here just yet, since I'd like it to be a bit of a surprise for my fellow drama students. But I will eventually post it! :) :) It's 3am and I'm glad I stayed up to finish it. The creative juices were flowing tonight. A four minute monologue and it's only two pages. Ridiculous. So ridiculous.
Anyways, I am off to shower and get ready for bed!
Goodnight my little skittles.
Anyways, I am off to shower and get ready for bed!
Goodnight my little skittles.
Tuesday, October 11, 2011
"I believe in pink..."
"I believe in pink. I believe that laughing is the best calorie burner. I believe in kissing, kissing a lot. I believe in being strong when everything seems to be going wrong. I believe that happy girls are the prettiest girls. I believe that tomorrow is another day and I believe in miracles." - Audrey Hepburn
Monday, October 10, 2011
Getting into Character: Audrey Hepburn
I'm slowly and slowly beginning to develop my character. It's just unfortunate that I don't have much time to do so. I wish I had until mid November. But I have until just after the wedding - and I'm a little stressed. There's so much to do. I suppose I'm just going to have to make sure that I dedicate a couple hours to her every night!
My dear friend Holly lent me a bunch of Audrey Hepburn movies - so I could get the elements down of what her acting is like. And I've been watching YouTube videos, interviews and such. The tough part, I think, is going to get the accent down. I can do it. Everyone in class makes fun of me because of my accents - but this is something that I'd like to practice and perfect, you know? Show em' I can do it. (I AM good at accents, I can just never stick to one ;P).
Besides watching the movies, I'm going to write letters to myself as Audrey. See how she talks. Invent how her speak patterns work. Her handwriting. I decided to go ahead and do the monologue as Audrey. So, I have to get everything down to a T. I think she'll be in her dressing room. Talking about life - her life, and what she wants her future to be like. If she'll have children. If she wants to get back, etc. The monologue is going to be boring - but wise. And that'll be quite different for me, I think, because I usually pick the outrageous characters, you know? The psychos. Or the murderers. Or the melodramatic. I've never chosen someone so put-together as Audrey. So I hope this works.
I'll update you when things come up. (:
- Bree
My dear friend Holly lent me a bunch of Audrey Hepburn movies - so I could get the elements down of what her acting is like. And I've been watching YouTube videos, interviews and such. The tough part, I think, is going to get the accent down. I can do it. Everyone in class makes fun of me because of my accents - but this is something that I'd like to practice and perfect, you know? Show em' I can do it. (I AM good at accents, I can just never stick to one ;P).
Besides watching the movies, I'm going to write letters to myself as Audrey. See how she talks. Invent how her speak patterns work. Her handwriting. I decided to go ahead and do the monologue as Audrey. So, I have to get everything down to a T. I think she'll be in her dressing room. Talking about life - her life, and what she wants her future to be like. If she'll have children. If she wants to get back, etc. The monologue is going to be boring - but wise. And that'll be quite different for me, I think, because I usually pick the outrageous characters, you know? The psychos. Or the murderers. Or the melodramatic. I've never chosen someone so put-together as Audrey. So I hope this works.
I'll update you when things come up. (:
- Bree
Wednesday, October 05, 2011
Historical Monologue: Audrey Hepburn
For my senior drama class we all have to chose a deceased person to write a monologue about. There's a bunch of things to factor into it, too. We can either choose a monologue from a play that was written within your person's life and perform it in that style and write a piece of "in role writing" basically - which could be a diary entry, an anecdote, etc. OR we can write a monologue as the historical figure, performed in the style of the day.
I think I've decided on Audrey Hepburn as my historical person, but I'm not one hundred percent on it. I don't know why. It seems like the character is a little more boring than others (but by no means do I mean that Audrey Hepburn was a boring character).
I don't think that I want to write the monologue. My reasoning: IT'S BORING. What she would talk about (in my mind - because I have an idea) would only be shared in say, a diary entry or a letter or something. It just doesn't seem right for her to sit on a chair, smoke and talk about how her life's been and how she wants to give back to the world. I really think that it'll lighten the load for me, because I love writing 750 word papers ;).
Yes. I think that that's what I'll do. I suppose blogging about it let me argue it with myself ;)
I think I've decided on Audrey Hepburn as my historical person, but I'm not one hundred percent on it. I don't know why. It seems like the character is a little more boring than others (but by no means do I mean that Audrey Hepburn was a boring character).
I don't think that I want to write the monologue. My reasoning: IT'S BORING. What she would talk about (in my mind - because I have an idea) would only be shared in say, a diary entry or a letter or something. It just doesn't seem right for her to sit on a chair, smoke and talk about how her life's been and how she wants to give back to the world. I really think that it'll lighten the load for me, because I love writing 750 word papers ;).
Yes. I think that that's what I'll do. I suppose blogging about it let me argue it with myself ;)
Saturday, October 01, 2011
The Crickets Have Arthritis By: Shane Koyczan
It doesn't matter why I was there, where the air is sterile and the sheets sting. It doesn't matter that I was hooked up to this thing that buzzed and beeped every time my heart leaped like a man who's faith tells him God's hands are big enough to catch an airplane, or a world. It doesn't matter that I was curled up like a fist protesting death, or that every breath was either hard labour or hard time, or that I'm either always too hot or too cold. Doesn't matter because my hospital roommate wears star wars pajamas, and he's 9 years old. His name is Louis, and I don't have to ask what he's got.The bald head with the skin and bones frame speaks volumes. The gameboy and the feather pillow booms like they're trying to make him feel at home because he's going to be here awhile.
I manage a smile the first time I see him and it feels like the biggest lie I have ever told, so I hold my breath cos I'm thinking any minute now he's going to call me on it. I hold my breath because I'm scared of a 57 pound boy hooked up to a machine because he's been watching me and maybe I've got him pegged all wrong, like maybe he's bionic or some shit. So I look away like just I made eye contact with a gang member who's got a rap sheet the length of a lecture on dumb mistakes politicians have made. I look away like he's going to give me my life back the moment I've got something to trade. I damn near pull out my pack and say, "Cigarette?"
But my fear subsides in the moment I realize Louis is all show and tell. He's got everything from a shotgun shell to a crows foot and he can put them all in context. Like, "See, this is from a shooting range", and "See, this is from a weird girl". I watch his hands curl around a cuff-link and a tie-tack and realize that every nick-nack is a treasure and every treasure has a story, and every time I think I can't handle more he hits me with another story. He says, "See, this is from my father" "See, this is from my brother" "See, this is from that weird girl" "See, this is from my mother". Took me about two days to figure out that weird girl is his sister, it took him about two hours today after she left for him to figure out he missed her. And they visit every day, and stay well past visiting hours because for them that term doesn't apply. But when they do leave, Louis and I are left alone. And he says, "The worst part about being sick is that you get all the free ice cream you ask for." And he says, "The worst part about that is realizing there is nothing more they can do for you." He says, "Ice cream can't make everything okay."
And there is no easy way of asking, and I know what he's going to say but maybe he just needs to say it, so I ask him anyway. "Are you scared?" Louis doesn't even lower his voice when he says, "Fuck yeah." I listen to a 9 year old boy say the word fuck like he was a 30 year old man with a nose-bleed being lowered into a shark tank, he's got a right to it. And if it takes this kid a curse word to help him get through it, then I want to teach him to swear like the devil's sitting there taking notes with a pen and a pad. But before I can forget that Louis is 9 years old he says, "Please don't tell my dad."
He asks me if I believe in angels. And before I realize I don't have the heart to tell him, I tell him, "Not lately." and I just lay there waiting for him to hate me. But he doesn't know how to, so he never does. Louis loves like a man who lived in a time before God gave religion to men and left it to them to figure out what hate was. He never greets me with silence, only smiles and a patience I've never seen in someone who knows they're dying. And I'm trying so hard not to remind him I'll be out of here in a couple days, smoking cigarettes and taking my life for granted. And he'll still be planted in this bed like a flower that refuses to grow. I've been with him for 5 days and all I really know is that Louis loves to pull feathers out of his pillow, and watch them float to the ground. Almost as if he's the philosopher inside of the scientist ready to say, "It's gravity that's been getting us down."
The truth is: there's not enough miracles to go around, kid. And there's too many people petitioning God for the winning lotto ticket. And for every answered prayer, there's a cricket with arthritis. And the only reason we can't find answers is because the search party didn't invite us, and Louis, right now the crickets have arthritis. So there is no music, no symphony of nature swelling to crescendos, as if ripping halos into melodies that can keep a rhythm with the way our hearts beat. So we must meet silence with the same level of noise that the parents of dying 9 year old boys make when they take liberties in talking with heaven. We must shout until we shatter in our own vibrations, then let our lives echo and grow, echo and grow, grow distant. Grow distant enough to know that as far as our efforts go, we don't always get a reply.
But I swear to whatever God I can find in the time I have left, I'm going to remember you kid. I'm going to tell your story as often as every story you told me. And every time I tell it I'll say, "See, there's bravery in this world. There's 6.5 billion people curled up like fists protesting death, but every breath we breathe has to be given back. A 9 year old boy taught me that." So hold your breath, the same way you'd hold a pen when writing Thank You letters on your skin to every tree that gave you that breath to hold. And then let it go, as if you understand something about getting old and having to give back. Let it go like a laugh attack in the middle of really good sex, the black eye will be worth it. Because what is your night worth without a story to tell? And why wield a word like worth if you've got nothing to sell?
People drop pennies down a wishing well, so the cost of a desire is equal to that of a thought. But if you've got expectations, expect others have bought your exact same dream for the price of a 'hard work, hang in, hold on' mentality. Like, I accept any challenge so challenge me. Like, I brought a knife to this gun fight, but the other night I mugged a mountain so bring that shit, I've had practice. Louis and I cracked this world wide open and found that the prize inside is we never lied to ourselves. Never told ourselves that we'd be easy or undemanding. So we sing in our own vibration, and dare angels to eavesdrop and stop mid flight to pluck feathers from their wings and write demands that God's hands take the time to catch you. So, even if God doesn't, it wasn't because we didn't try.
I don't often believe in angels, but on the day I left Louis pulled a feather from his pillow and said, "This is for you." I half expected him to say, "See, this is the first one I grew."
I manage a smile the first time I see him and it feels like the biggest lie I have ever told, so I hold my breath cos I'm thinking any minute now he's going to call me on it. I hold my breath because I'm scared of a 57 pound boy hooked up to a machine because he's been watching me and maybe I've got him pegged all wrong, like maybe he's bionic or some shit. So I look away like just I made eye contact with a gang member who's got a rap sheet the length of a lecture on dumb mistakes politicians have made. I look away like he's going to give me my life back the moment I've got something to trade. I damn near pull out my pack and say, "Cigarette?"
But my fear subsides in the moment I realize Louis is all show and tell. He's got everything from a shotgun shell to a crows foot and he can put them all in context. Like, "See, this is from a shooting range", and "See, this is from a weird girl". I watch his hands curl around a cuff-link and a tie-tack and realize that every nick-nack is a treasure and every treasure has a story, and every time I think I can't handle more he hits me with another story. He says, "See, this is from my father" "See, this is from my brother" "See, this is from that weird girl" "See, this is from my mother". Took me about two days to figure out that weird girl is his sister, it took him about two hours today after she left for him to figure out he missed her. And they visit every day, and stay well past visiting hours because for them that term doesn't apply. But when they do leave, Louis and I are left alone. And he says, "The worst part about being sick is that you get all the free ice cream you ask for." And he says, "The worst part about that is realizing there is nothing more they can do for you." He says, "Ice cream can't make everything okay."
And there is no easy way of asking, and I know what he's going to say but maybe he just needs to say it, so I ask him anyway. "Are you scared?" Louis doesn't even lower his voice when he says, "Fuck yeah." I listen to a 9 year old boy say the word fuck like he was a 30 year old man with a nose-bleed being lowered into a shark tank, he's got a right to it. And if it takes this kid a curse word to help him get through it, then I want to teach him to swear like the devil's sitting there taking notes with a pen and a pad. But before I can forget that Louis is 9 years old he says, "Please don't tell my dad."
He asks me if I believe in angels. And before I realize I don't have the heart to tell him, I tell him, "Not lately." and I just lay there waiting for him to hate me. But he doesn't know how to, so he never does. Louis loves like a man who lived in a time before God gave religion to men and left it to them to figure out what hate was. He never greets me with silence, only smiles and a patience I've never seen in someone who knows they're dying. And I'm trying so hard not to remind him I'll be out of here in a couple days, smoking cigarettes and taking my life for granted. And he'll still be planted in this bed like a flower that refuses to grow. I've been with him for 5 days and all I really know is that Louis loves to pull feathers out of his pillow, and watch them float to the ground. Almost as if he's the philosopher inside of the scientist ready to say, "It's gravity that's been getting us down."
The truth is: there's not enough miracles to go around, kid. And there's too many people petitioning God for the winning lotto ticket. And for every answered prayer, there's a cricket with arthritis. And the only reason we can't find answers is because the search party didn't invite us, and Louis, right now the crickets have arthritis. So there is no music, no symphony of nature swelling to crescendos, as if ripping halos into melodies that can keep a rhythm with the way our hearts beat. So we must meet silence with the same level of noise that the parents of dying 9 year old boys make when they take liberties in talking with heaven. We must shout until we shatter in our own vibrations, then let our lives echo and grow, echo and grow, grow distant. Grow distant enough to know that as far as our efforts go, we don't always get a reply.
But I swear to whatever God I can find in the time I have left, I'm going to remember you kid. I'm going to tell your story as often as every story you told me. And every time I tell it I'll say, "See, there's bravery in this world. There's 6.5 billion people curled up like fists protesting death, but every breath we breathe has to be given back. A 9 year old boy taught me that." So hold your breath, the same way you'd hold a pen when writing Thank You letters on your skin to every tree that gave you that breath to hold. And then let it go, as if you understand something about getting old and having to give back. Let it go like a laugh attack in the middle of really good sex, the black eye will be worth it. Because what is your night worth without a story to tell? And why wield a word like worth if you've got nothing to sell?
People drop pennies down a wishing well, so the cost of a desire is equal to that of a thought. But if you've got expectations, expect others have bought your exact same dream for the price of a 'hard work, hang in, hold on' mentality. Like, I accept any challenge so challenge me. Like, I brought a knife to this gun fight, but the other night I mugged a mountain so bring that shit, I've had practice. Louis and I cracked this world wide open and found that the prize inside is we never lied to ourselves. Never told ourselves that we'd be easy or undemanding. So we sing in our own vibration, and dare angels to eavesdrop and stop mid flight to pluck feathers from their wings and write demands that God's hands take the time to catch you. So, even if God doesn't, it wasn't because we didn't try.
I don't often believe in angels, but on the day I left Louis pulled a feather from his pillow and said, "This is for you." I half expected him to say, "See, this is the first one I grew."
Monday, September 26, 2011
Fishy
I bought a fish today. His name is Sir Luto FSH. But you can call him Luto. ;) I will be posting pictures later on when I find the time.
Luto is my new inspiration. :)
Luto is my new inspiration. :)
Wednesday, September 21, 2011
Anonymous Script # 2 (Untitled)
(MAN and WOMAN enter smallish apartment. They are formally dressed and she is aggravated. The MAN has terminal cancer, the WOMAN has no idea.)
WOMAN: (mockingly) How may I help you?
MAN: Why are you doing this?
WOMAN: Doing what?
MAN: Making a big deal out of nothing.
WOMAN: She was flirting with you!
MAN: She was only our hostess!
WOMAN: You were flirting with her!
MAN: I was being nice!
WOMAN: Don't lie to me.
MAN: Oh, so am I forbidden to be polite to other women now?
WOMAN: You're not allowed to flirt with other women!
MAN: I wasn't flirting!
(WOMAN turns away from the MAN. She rolls her eyes and crosses her arms)
MAN: Come on , babe. Please turn around.
(Slight pause)
MAN: Cute.
WOMAN: Being pissed off at you is cute?
MAN: You being jealous. It's adorable.
WOMAN: I'm not jealous. (she turns toward him) I'm just mildly concerned.
MAN: Uh huh. Sure.
WOMAN: I just want to make sure that nothing keeps us apart this time.
MAN: Nothing's going to happen. I promise.
(The couple embraces. You can only see the MAN'S face. He looks worried.)
MAN: I love you, you know that? (still hugging)
WOMAN: Yeah. Me too.
WOMAN: (mockingly) How may I help you?
MAN: Why are you doing this?
WOMAN: Doing what?
MAN: Making a big deal out of nothing.
WOMAN: She was flirting with you!
MAN: She was only our hostess!
WOMAN: You were flirting with her!
MAN: I was being nice!
WOMAN: Don't lie to me.
MAN: Oh, so am I forbidden to be polite to other women now?
WOMAN: You're not allowed to flirt with other women!
MAN: I wasn't flirting!
(WOMAN turns away from the MAN. She rolls her eyes and crosses her arms)
MAN: Come on , babe. Please turn around.
(Slight pause)
MAN: Cute.
WOMAN: Being pissed off at you is cute?
MAN: You being jealous. It's adorable.
WOMAN: I'm not jealous. (she turns toward him) I'm just mildly concerned.
MAN: Uh huh. Sure.
WOMAN: I just want to make sure that nothing keeps us apart this time.
MAN: Nothing's going to happen. I promise.
(The couple embraces. You can only see the MAN'S face. He looks worried.)
MAN: I love you, you know that? (still hugging)
WOMAN: Yeah. Me too.
Saturday, September 17, 2011
Bring Me the Disco King
One of my favourite songs. Sung by David Bowie and featuring Maynard Keenan.
Every time I hear this song, something clicks inside me, and everything in my life that's unsure or confusing makes sense. And I am content for about six minutes and nine seconds. <3
You promised me the ending would be clear
You'd let me know when the time was now
Don't let me know when you're opening the door
Stab me in the dark, let me disappear
Memories that flutter like bats out of hell
Stab you from the city spires
Life wasn't worth the balance
Or the crumpled paper it was written on
Don't let me know we're invisible
Don't let me know we're invisible
Hot cash days that you trailed around
Cold cold nights under chrome and glass
Led me down river of perfumed limbs
Sent me to the streets with the good time girls
Don't let me know we're invisible
Don't let me know we're invisible
We could dance, dance, dance thru' the fire
Dance, dance, dance thru' the fire
Feed me no lies
I don't know about you, I don't know about you
Breathe through the years
I don't know about you, I don't know about you
Bring me the disco king
I don't know about you, I don't know about you
Dead or alive, bring me the disco king
Bring me the disco king, bring me the disco king
Bring me the disco king
Spin-offs with those who slept like corpses
Damp morning rays in the stiff bad clubs
Killing time in the '70s
Smelling of love through the moist winds
Don't let me know when you're opening the door
Close me in the dark, let me disappear
Soon there'll be nothing left of me
Nothing left to release
Dance, dance, dance thru' the fire
Dance, dance, dance thru' the fire
Feed me no lies
I don't know about you, I don't know about you
Breathe through the years
I don't know about you, I don't know about you
Bring me the disco king
I don't know about you, I don't know about you
Dead or alive, bring me the disco king
Bring me the disco king
Bring me the disco king, bring me the disco king
Bring me the disco king, bring me the disco king
Bring me the disco king, bring me the disco king
- Blk
Every time I hear this song, something clicks inside me, and everything in my life that's unsure or confusing makes sense. And I am content for about six minutes and nine seconds. <3
You promised me the ending would be clear
You'd let me know when the time was now
Don't let me know when you're opening the door
Stab me in the dark, let me disappear
Memories that flutter like bats out of hell
Stab you from the city spires
Life wasn't worth the balance
Or the crumpled paper it was written on
Don't let me know we're invisible
Don't let me know we're invisible
Hot cash days that you trailed around
Cold cold nights under chrome and glass
Led me down river of perfumed limbs
Sent me to the streets with the good time girls
Don't let me know we're invisible
Don't let me know we're invisible
We could dance, dance, dance thru' the fire
Dance, dance, dance thru' the fire
Feed me no lies
I don't know about you, I don't know about you
Breathe through the years
I don't know about you, I don't know about you
Bring me the disco king
I don't know about you, I don't know about you
Dead or alive, bring me the disco king
Bring me the disco king, bring me the disco king
Bring me the disco king
Spin-offs with those who slept like corpses
Damp morning rays in the stiff bad clubs
Killing time in the '70s
Smelling of love through the moist winds
Don't let me know when you're opening the door
Close me in the dark, let me disappear
Soon there'll be nothing left of me
Nothing left to release
Dance, dance, dance thru' the fire
Dance, dance, dance thru' the fire
Feed me no lies
I don't know about you, I don't know about you
Breathe through the years
I don't know about you, I don't know about you
Bring me the disco king
I don't know about you, I don't know about you
Dead or alive, bring me the disco king
Bring me the disco king
Bring me the disco king, bring me the disco king
Bring me the disco king, bring me the disco king
Bring me the disco king, bring me the disco king
- Blk
Friday, September 16, 2011
Drown, Drown, Drowning (Lyrics)
(C) to Brianna Kane. Don't steal or I'mma go all Dexter on yo' ass.
We've neglected the remote,
Lost between cowarded cushions,
I've made a mental note.
The clocks have watched us in rewind,
Knee-deep in a taste to tainted,
So bitterly entwined.
I'm battling the blushing and the wishing to let go,
As our orbit trembles, like a wincing, waltzing tableau.
Drown, drown, drowning within,
Heart sank, lungs giving in.
Down, down, downing the sea.
One, two, ten gulps and I'm free.
Disappearing completely,
I am fading discreetly,
Because I can't swim,
You win.
Framed like old art on the wall,
We succumed to all of our contrasts,
But age isn't at fault.
Cups are half-empty with a look,
So why do I dance these ripples,
Of dreams just over-looked?
I'm battling the blushing and the wishing to let go,
As our orbit trembles, like a wincing, waltzing tableau.
Drown, drown, drowing within,
Heart sank, lungs giving in.
Down, down, downing the sea.
One, two, ten gulps and I'm free.
Disappearing completely,
I am fading discreetly,
Because I can't swim,
I win.
I'm battling imperfections,
Swallowed by the broken waves,
But before I die my passion lifts me,
From the water's cold embrace.
Drown, drown, drowning within,
Heart sank, love's given in.
Down, down, downing the sea,
One, two, ten gulps and I'm free.
Disappearing completely,
I am fading discreetly,
Because I can't win,
I'll learn to swim.
I'm breathing in the atmosphere of having let you go,
This is my farewell, drained all the tears that once overflowed...
We've neglected the remote,
Lost between cowarded cushions,
I've made a mental note.
The clocks have watched us in rewind,
Knee-deep in a taste to tainted,
So bitterly entwined.
I'm battling the blushing and the wishing to let go,
As our orbit trembles, like a wincing, waltzing tableau.
Drown, drown, drowning within,
Heart sank, lungs giving in.
Down, down, downing the sea.
One, two, ten gulps and I'm free.
Disappearing completely,
I am fading discreetly,
Because I can't swim,
You win.
Framed like old art on the wall,
We succumed to all of our contrasts,
But age isn't at fault.
Cups are half-empty with a look,
So why do I dance these ripples,
Of dreams just over-looked?
I'm battling the blushing and the wishing to let go,
As our orbit trembles, like a wincing, waltzing tableau.
Drown, drown, drowing within,
Heart sank, lungs giving in.
Down, down, downing the sea.
One, two, ten gulps and I'm free.
Disappearing completely,
I am fading discreetly,
Because I can't swim,
I win.
I'm battling imperfections,
Swallowed by the broken waves,
But before I die my passion lifts me,
From the water's cold embrace.
Drown, drown, drowning within,
Heart sank, love's given in.
Down, down, downing the sea,
One, two, ten gulps and I'm free.
Disappearing completely,
I am fading discreetly,
Because I can't win,
I'll learn to swim.
I'm breathing in the atmosphere of having let you go,
This is my farewell, drained all the tears that once overflowed...
Falling Down the Inkwell (Lyrics)
(C) to Brianna Kane. Steal these lyrics, and I go Dexter on yo' ass.
The clouds are crying
Spitting on my wings
The storm has come
Its violence is enlightening
The streets overflow
With thoughts I dare to think
My dreams are raining down;
Dark stains of bleeding ink
I feel hopeless; I'm broken and suffering
I need someone to hear my thunder sing
My wish hit the pavement
And washed away in grief
Cause I took you for granted
Tore your heart right off its sleeve
I'm not one to reget
But lately I've been thinking
I'm sick of dodging puddles
And you're my favourite season
I feel nothing; this the lightening guaranteed
But I need someone's umbrella to cover me
I'm sad, it's true
For things that I can't undo
But if I could rewind life
I know that I would choose you
Drip, drop. Drip, drop
I'm falling faster
Drip, drop. Drip, drop
I've fallen for you
I'm sad, it's true
For things that I can't undo
But if I could rewind life
I know that I would choose you
I'm sad it's true
For things that I can't undo
But if I could rewind life
I know that I would choose you
The clouds are crying...
<3 Blk.
The clouds are crying
Spitting on my wings
The storm has come
Its violence is enlightening
The streets overflow
With thoughts I dare to think
My dreams are raining down;
Dark stains of bleeding ink
I feel hopeless; I'm broken and suffering
I need someone to hear my thunder sing
My wish hit the pavement
And washed away in grief
Cause I took you for granted
Tore your heart right off its sleeve
I'm not one to reget
But lately I've been thinking
I'm sick of dodging puddles
And you're my favourite season
I feel nothing; this the lightening guaranteed
But I need someone's umbrella to cover me
I'm sad, it's true
For things that I can't undo
But if I could rewind life
I know that I would choose you
Drip, drop. Drip, drop
I'm falling faster
Drip, drop. Drip, drop
I've fallen for you
I'm sad, it's true
For things that I can't undo
But if I could rewind life
I know that I would choose you
I'm sad it's true
For things that I can't undo
But if I could rewind life
I know that I would choose you
The clouds are crying...
<3 Blk.
Chalk.
Mr.B: *throws chalk at B's head
B: You almost hit my eye!
Mr.B: You're wearing glasses.
(Discussing Improv Theory with class - and the don'ts. Specifically how violence is a no-no)
B: Can I throw a piece of chalk instead?
Mr.B: No... That would be violence... And I don't know who would do that...
- Blk.
B: You almost hit my eye!
Mr.B: You're wearing glasses.
(Discussing Improv Theory with class - and the don'ts. Specifically how violence is a no-no)
B: Can I throw a piece of chalk instead?
Mr.B: No... That would be violence... And I don't know who would do that...
- Blk.
Thursday, September 15, 2011
Anonymous Script (Untitled)
The other day, in the middle of Music class, an idea for a script dawned upon me. So I took a few minutes while my teacher was rambling, and wrote down what came to me. On spare today, I annotated it. I added to it. I edited it. And here's what I have so far...
(Couple is embracing in a hug. The woman pulls away)
Woman: I feel empty.
Man: Why empty?
Woman: You make me feel empty.
Man: I make you feel empty?
Woman: (nods)
(pause)
Man: Well, the cup can't always be half full.
Woman: Listen to yourself. What happened when I was gone that made you like this?
Man: Like what?
Woman: So bitter.
Man: I'm the exact same person as I was before you left. You're making something out of nothing here.
Woman: Why must you make me feel this way?
Man: What way?
Woman: Empty!
(pause)
Man: Empty.
Woman: Yes, empty.
Man: Why empty?
(pause)
Man: Please. Answer me.
Woman: How is she?
Man: What are you talking abou-
Woman: -You know exactly what I'm talking about. I'm not stupid. I'm not oblivious here.
Man: How did you...?
Woman: I can smell her on your shirt.
Man: I love you. You believe that right?
Woman: Most days I do.
Man: And what about today?
Woman: Well. Today's different.
Man: Why is today any different?
Woman: Because today I can't feel a thing.
(pause)
Man: You're empty.
Woman: Yes. I am.
Man: Me too.
- Blk.
(Couple is embracing in a hug. The woman pulls away)
Woman: I feel empty.
Man: Why empty?
Woman: You make me feel empty.
Man: I make you feel empty?
Woman: (nods)
(pause)
Man: Well, the cup can't always be half full.
Woman: Listen to yourself. What happened when I was gone that made you like this?
Man: Like what?
Woman: So bitter.
Man: I'm the exact same person as I was before you left. You're making something out of nothing here.
Woman: Why must you make me feel this way?
Man: What way?
Woman: Empty!
(pause)
Man: Empty.
Woman: Yes, empty.
Man: Why empty?
(pause)
Man: Please. Answer me.
Woman: How is she?
Man: What are you talking abou-
Woman: -You know exactly what I'm talking about. I'm not stupid. I'm not oblivious here.
Man: How did you...?
Woman: I can smell her on your shirt.
Man: I love you. You believe that right?
Woman: Most days I do.
Man: And what about today?
Woman: Well. Today's different.
Man: Why is today any different?
Woman: Because today I can't feel a thing.
(pause)
Man: You're empty.
Woman: Yes. I am.
Man: Me too.
- Blk.
Separated by Cities (The City Lights)
I'm not really sure about the title for this, but I found this poem in my book and thought it needed to be shared... "Separated by Cities (The City Lights)" was written on the top on the sheet, so I'm going with it... Though I wrote it months ago, I still enjoy it. And I hope you do too!
Crowded by words so eloquently spoken
And drowned by the silence that follows.
We're cities apart, and yet I hear you so clearly;
Diction ringing clear.
It's moments like these that I wish to travel,
Just to see you - to put a face to the sound.
You've been the ripple in my pond,
Ever so kindly disrupting my natural flow.
- How can I think straight with you so often cluttering my mind?
I don't. I don't think straight.
Thanks for that, by the way.
You know the worst part?
You're not here; there's only your words...
You can't catch me when I fall for you. <3
It needs work. Maybe I'll end up touching this one up and reposting it someday. We'll see.
- Blk.
Crowded by words so eloquently spoken
And drowned by the silence that follows.
We're cities apart, and yet I hear you so clearly;
Diction ringing clear.
It's moments like these that I wish to travel,
Just to see you - to put a face to the sound.
You've been the ripple in my pond,
Ever so kindly disrupting my natural flow.
- How can I think straight with you so often cluttering my mind?
I don't. I don't think straight.
Thanks for that, by the way.
You know the worst part?
You're not here; there's only your words...
You can't catch me when I fall for you. <3
It needs work. Maybe I'll end up touching this one up and reposting it someday. We'll see.
- Blk.
Another Untitled Song
I was writing this song a while ago, and the inspiration stopped. I think I may be getting it back slowly. But it is dedicated to Rachael. <3 Here's some of the lyrics.
Her train jumped the track and traced the world
On its fine dotted line of uncertainties
And when the dots fell away
Down the winding staircase
Her dreams gave away under her feet
And when the train stopped
she walked the streets of nostalgia
And painted her way with blue fantasies
And that's all that I can remember. But I am in love with these lyrics. They remind me so much of my life.
- Blk.
Her train jumped the track and traced the world
On its fine dotted line of uncertainties
And when the dots fell away
Down the winding staircase
Her dreams gave away under her feet
And when the train stopped
she walked the streets of nostalgia
And painted her way with blue fantasies
And that's all that I can remember. But I am in love with these lyrics. They remind me so much of my life.
- Blk.
Wednesday, September 14, 2011
Olives.
I was working on a short story entitled "Olives" for a while. And then the idea to make it into a script came over me. I much prefer it as a script. Don't know when I'll be able to finish it. I'd like to work on it every now and then and try to get it finished by Christmas. But good things take time. I know that now. And I don't want to rush this bittersweet story.
I'd tell you more of what it's about, but that would give it away. It'll probably just be a one act play. Maybe I'll post it on here eventually.
- Blk.
I'd tell you more of what it's about, but that would give it away. It'll probably just be a one act play. Maybe I'll post it on here eventually.
- Blk.
New Song
I've been working on a song for what seems like months now. And I can't quite finish it... Anyways, I'll probably end up writing a different one altogether, but here are some of the lyrics that I've started.
I'm broken
So forget about leaving
I'm gonna tie you up so you can't go
It's teething
This hunger for your words
And I'm melting at every kiss that crows
I'm caught up in this web that you've strung
With the hope that your heart would kiss my lips
It's been etched inside my mouth with your tongue
Your feelings of regret for this sour sip...
Of summer romance
I'm on fire.
Burning.
Breathing in ash.
I can see it,
My heart,
Melting at last.
But most of these are just ideas. I haven't really decided where it's going exactly, but expect a lot more new songs to come. :)
- Blk.
I'm broken
So forget about leaving
I'm gonna tie you up so you can't go
It's teething
This hunger for your words
And I'm melting at every kiss that crows
I'm caught up in this web that you've strung
With the hope that your heart would kiss my lips
It's been etched inside my mouth with your tongue
Your feelings of regret for this sour sip...
Of summer romance
I'm on fire.
Burning.
Breathing in ash.
I can see it,
My heart,
Melting at last.
But most of these are just ideas. I haven't really decided where it's going exactly, but expect a lot more new songs to come. :)
- Blk.
Heart Attack
So I slept through my alarm clock. Why? Because I had a dream that I held my Mother's hand as she had a heart attack. I woke up before she reached the end of it though. So I don't know how she ended up. Kind of scary, I'll admit.
So today is going to be a mother's day of sorts. :) And for the record, I am never watching Stepmom before bed again.
- Blk.
So today is going to be a mother's day of sorts. :) And for the record, I am never watching Stepmom before bed again.
- Blk.
My First Character: Isabel Kelly
It's decided. My first character to play and record will be Isabel from the film Stepmom (incredibly portrayed by Julia Roberts). If you see me taking more pictures than usual, it's because I'm going to step into her shoes for a while. She's a professional photographer in New York and through out the movie you can always find her on the other side of the camera - always the one watching. It's funny that we're opposites in that sense, because I'm usually the one posing, but we're also alike because we're both people watchers in a sense. She wants to capture their spirit on film, and I aim to steal spirits and use them in characters and such. Anyways, in the end she finds her place; her moment, and steps out from behind the camera to take a picture with her new family. *tears
It's such a wonderful story. I can't wait to get started.
- Blk.
It's such a wonderful story. I can't wait to get started.
- Blk.
Stepmom
I found the perfect monologue today. And at first I wasn't sure, so I had to watch the film 'Stepmom' again, since I hadn't seen it since I was really little. And even then, I don't think I ever saw the whole thing. So I watched it. I cried more than I have in a while. And I fell in love with this story. And as much as I love Jackie's character... The monologue I found was Isabel's point of view on the future and all. Here it is...
Isabel: I never wanted to be a mom. Well, sharing it with you is one thing, but caring alone the rest of my life, always being compared to you. You're perfect. They worship you. I just don't want to be looking over my shoulder everyday, for twenty years, knowing that someone would have done it right, done it better, the way that I can't. You're mother-earth incarnate, you ride with Anna, you know every story, every wound, every memory. Their whole life's happiness is wrapped up in you. Every single moment. Don't you get it? Look down the road to her wedding. I'm in a room alone with her Fitting her veil, fluffing her dress. Telling her, no woman has ever looked that beautiful. And my fear is that (pause) she'll be thinking "I wish my mom was here".
I am in the process of memorizing. :)
- Blk.
Isabel: I never wanted to be a mom. Well, sharing it with you is one thing, but caring alone the rest of my life, always being compared to you. You're perfect. They worship you. I just don't want to be looking over my shoulder everyday, for twenty years, knowing that someone would have done it right, done it better, the way that I can't. You're mother-earth incarnate, you ride with Anna, you know every story, every wound, every memory. Their whole life's happiness is wrapped up in you. Every single moment. Don't you get it? Look down the road to her wedding. I'm in a room alone with her Fitting her veil, fluffing her dress. Telling her, no woman has ever looked that beautiful. And my fear is that (pause) she'll be thinking "I wish my mom was here".
I am in the process of memorizing. :)
- Blk.
Tuesday, September 13, 2011
Romeo and Juliet
My wonderful sister found advertisement for auditions for Romeo and Juliet. And I was totally for it. Seconds later I learned that it's Thursday night, and I have important plans. And it's too soon. And I'm too busy. Damn. I was so close there.
- Blk.
- Blk.
Monologues.
I have been looking up several monologues all evening, and I think I've chosen a select few to memorize and record. :)
- Blk.
- Blk.
Dawson's Creek Quotes
Some of my favourite quotes from my favourite television series.
"I reject reality."
"Everything changes eventually."
"Don't give up on your lost causes, you never know when you're luck will change."
"I don't believe in perfect love. But I do believe that there are people who's lives are inextricably intertwined."
"And the rest is pornographic history."
"I'm an artist, torture is a prerequisite."
"Edge is fleeting, heart lasts forever."
And so many more.
- Blk.
"I reject reality."
"Everything changes eventually."
"Don't give up on your lost causes, you never know when you're luck will change."
"I don't believe in perfect love. But I do believe that there are people who's lives are inextricably intertwined."
"And the rest is pornographic history."
"I'm an artist, torture is a prerequisite."
"Edge is fleeting, heart lasts forever."
And so many more.
- Blk.
Mechanical Love
Throw out the batteries, and turn me on.
Light me up, and spin me round.
Take me to your favourite place,
Hold me close; face to face.
Never drop me,
Never let me go,
Drink me up,
And feel this flavour grow.
- Blk.
Light me up, and spin me round.
Take me to your favourite place,
Hold me close; face to face.
Never drop me,
Never let me go,
Drink me up,
And feel this flavour grow.
- Blk.
From My Favourite Book...
"SHE WAS ELUSIVE. SHE WAS TODAY. SHE WAS TOMORROW. SHE WAS THE FAINTEST SCENT OF A CACTUS FLOWER, THE FITTING SHADOW OF AN ELF OWL. WE DID NOT KNOW WHAT TO MAKE OF HER. IN OUR MINDS WE TRIED TO PIN HER TO A CORK BOARD LIKE A BUTTERFLY. BUT THE PIN MERELY WENT THROUGH, AND AWAY SHE FLEW."
I have this memorized. Probably one of the most important paragraphs for me, to had ever been written.
- Blk.
I have this memorized. Probably one of the most important paragraphs for me, to had ever been written.
- Blk.
Cue House Lights
Welcome all.
To my thoughts.
To my most transcendent dreams.
And also to my never ending supply of nostalgia.
Here you will be preview to those moments when I'm alone...
When that inner creative clock starts ticking.
And for as long as I breathe, it'll never run out.
That I can promise.
Ah, but first, coffee.
- Blk.
To my thoughts.
To my most transcendent dreams.
And also to my never ending supply of nostalgia.
Here you will be preview to those moments when I'm alone...
When that inner creative clock starts ticking.
And for as long as I breathe, it'll never run out.
That I can promise.
Ah, but first, coffee.
- Blk.
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