Monday, March 29, 2010

Dreaming of my Dreams

I actually dreamed about the Addams family the other night. My waking life desires were close enough to touch...until I woke up. At 21, I am just losing hope. I fear I will have no choice but to become a pageant-type mother who lives vicariously through her black haired, pasty white daughter. If I ever have a black haired, pasty white daughter. Only time will really tell.
Lately when I sit down and think of it though, I don't think it's really Wednesday that captured me so much as it was her morbid, mysterious, and melancholy air. I think I feel so attracted to her because I see those same qualities hidden deep within myself. A couple months ago, I saw a heart-wrenching musical called Nevermore that just brought me to tears. I saw it alone and found myself face to face with my own reaction.
I realized that when I experience art with a friend or classmate in tow I think very differently about the subject, constantly watching for my friend's approval of the piece and for their reactions in general. Riding transit alone, finding my way to the theatre alone, and sitting alone between two very squashy (but nice) old ladies, gave me ample opportunity to get to know myself and how I interact with the world as a solitary person. Come the end of the first musical number in the production, I was surprised to find at the back of my throat a most unexpected lump. By the time intermission rolled around, tears were streaming down my face and the squashy ladies were giving me sympathetic glances...I escaped to a glass of white wine and fresh lipstick (alone). At the end of the play, as I waited for an empty cab, I think I discovered that while I felt a definite connection to Edgar (Allen Poe, upon whose story the play was based), and my heart broke at experiencing his tragic and mysterious story, what I really found myself wanting was a place in that story. A place on the stage moving my body in the almost unnatural ways these actors used to portray their characters, a place in rehearsal being challenged by my director to dig within myself until I found the darkness needed to truthfully portray Elmira or Sissy. I wanted someone to ask me, "Tia, are you dark? Tia, do you know sorrow? Tia, will you let it out?"
The overall darkness of the production (proverbial and literal), made me realize upon further introspection, that everything I have envied in Wednesday Addams is the darkness and morbidity lurking deep within myself. As a smiler and a people person, I find myself hiding from anything other than that within me--even if what I conceal is true. My joy is safe and approved of by the people around me. I desperately fear the judgment that might come were I to reveal to my friends and family the dark things of my soul. Everything I loved in the characters, set, costumes, music, and general story of Nevermore depicted the 'role' I long to play in my life. I don't want to hide behind my smile (although my joy is real) because there is more to me than laughter, there's more to my heart than bright colours and a sanguine point of view. I am coming to terms with the grief I have experienced in my life so far, and I am no longer so ashamed of the attraction I have to melancholy music and poetry.
More than I have ever feared the darkness I feel so inclined to though, I fear that no person could love or appreciate, or most of all just believe in the truth of this dark soul. It is not a despair that I harbour in my soul, rather a darkness that recognizes the hope in the light. It is not so much of an opposite to my loving and joyful nature as it is a reflection of my experiences and the suffering I have seen, little black beads stringing together a rosary of little (and big) sorrows that strengthen and justify my true joy, and the consolations of Christ that heal my broken heart.
If you're asking, I am dark, I know sorrow, and I want to let it out.

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