This morning, I’m sitting in the sunshine, eating the most beautiful strawberries I’ve ever seen, and preparing for this evening’s drama class.
This class has been difficult. I know so little about the theater– apart from a raging addiction to Slings and Arrows, I’m pretty much in the dark about what sets theater apart from, say, just reading the manuscript of a play. It seems so close to reading a novel or a poem– acts of imagination occur, stories are told and we change.
But the most interesting thing I’ve learned in the class about what sets theater apart from novels or poetry is that it happens in “real time” on the stage. If you miss it, it’s gone. The perfect moment. It’s ephemeral. It isn’t waiting for you between the leather covers of a book; you can’t pull it up on the iPad during your commute. You have to get it as it happens.
And the connection to the strawberries in the sunshine is so obvious that my conclusion seems redundant. What a perfect moment.