It was one of the most intense experiences of my life.
 These are the only words that I can use to describe the magic that took place during the few days that I performed my monologue.
 This unexpected gift came when I was offered the chance to be a part of a play that consisted of three monologues, performed by three people.
 To be able to go on stage and and tell a story executed by only one person is one of the things I find the most challenging -and thus the most exciting- acts of theater.
 The monologue. It is stripping your soul bare and opening your heart for the audience to see. It is being completely exposed in front of strangers, willing to let them look inside your very being. It is death and birth, a curse and a blessing. It is real life magic.
 Apart from the selection of an interesting enough piece, to keep the audience engaged, everything else fall upon you. On your ability to take complete strangers on a journey with only the tools of your body. Your voice, your eyes, the way you move on the stage... Everything is being scrutinized and judged. You have no one else to rely on if you miss a line, no one to save you if you make a wrong move. Everything -and I mean everything- come down to one thing, how well did you prepare?
 The exact time the spotlight hits you and all eyes are upon you, you have to forget the lines so you can make them sound like you just thought of them. You have to keep every aspect of your personality backstage and become an entirely different being. Because the only way to convince anyone you are someone else is to become someone else. Otherwise it is not acting, it is just playing make-belief.
 When it comes to monologues all the intensity of acting is being multiplied by ten, because you may not be able to see your audience but you definitely can hear them. Sometimes the absence of any sound -the stunned silence, the complete concentration on your words- is the most rewarding experience. Others, a sigh of approval or a thrilled catched breath, is your wish come true. But there is and every actor's nightmare, the restless audience. That means only one thing, you have failed to catch their attention and they just concentrate on being comfortable on their seats.
 A director once told me that ''you don't want your audience comfortable, you want them on the edge of their seat. Eager to drink the words that will come out of your mouth''. His words stayed with me through the years, echoing through every performance and always on my mind, keeping me motivated and in the pursuit of achieving them.
 So this experience, like any other, is finished. Leaving me emotionally exhausted but simultaneously excited and wanting more. Because regardless of the countless hours of preparation, of the constantly doubting and improving, nothing beats the pleasure of a standing ovation.
 And for those who are still riddled why I do what I do, the only reply that comes to mind are the immortal words of Oscar Wilde, ''It was only in the theater that I lived''.

KISSES!

E.      

   

 I recently found out that due to a birth defect on my knees coupled with an injury I have to stop -hopefully temporarily- my favorite pastime, running. And as any runner can tell you this is a beyond major hit. Faced with this fact, I found myself facing two options, wallow in self-pity or try to find something to take my mind of this. Needless to say, I did both.

 After two days spent watching movies on my bed waiting for my MRI appointment, I got fed up with myself. So I picked myself up, got dressed and went to find my friends for drinks.

 We were sitting at the corner of our favorite bar when I looked beside me and saw the opportunity for a picture perfect Instagram photo and it was at that moment when I capture the above picture with my camera that I noticed, I was happy and relaxed! My every thought wasn’t consumed over my injury, the pain or the loss of my lifestyle. This minor epiphany put me in thoughts and I realized the abundance of things I wasn’t seeing because I was focused on this negative event.

 Even if I cannot run –again, hopefully not for long- there are so many other activities to shift my focus on, that could, very well, bring me joy. Besides the obvious, going out with friends my choices were countless. I always wanted to have a six pack but I always chose to spent my workout time running, instead. I have yet to perfect my Italian, I have so many books to read, so many movies to watch…

 And if running was my lifestyle, I can always spend more time with my passion, theater. I will try to find my “running high” at good plays, at seminars or even together with Stanislavski or Stella Adler studying their books, analyzing their techniques.

 So this picture is dedicated to this, to all the simple things that bring us joy when we feel down, to the ordinary moments of pure happiness that we forget to appreciate because we are focused on all the wrong things.

 Because that is the extraordinary thing about photographs, they are evidence that once –even if not for long- everything were perfect and they will be perfect again.

When I took this photo, a thought sprang to my mind
that the tower emerged as from a fairytale with its glowing, bright, pink light.
So then and there I asked myself what kind of tale that could be?
And a smile flourished when decided to write a fairytale dark and mysterious... like me
There is no 'once upon a time'
No princess who needs saving
There is a pink light that continuously shine
to hide the monster, who through the years has been raving.
The rumor started quietly, no one knew how it was spread
that the duke and duchess had an heir, an extraordinarily beautiful baby girl.
Through the years nobody saw the famous daughter
not a shining knight nor a lowly pauper,
and as the rumor of her extreme beauty remained
none had ever seen it, even when her parents passed away.
They all thought that she was trapped, somehow locked away
and a brave man decided to go and free her one awful, fateful day.
He found no locks, he saw no traps,
he just followed a dim light
and filled with wonderment the master door he taps
to open and reveal a girl with a smile sinister and bright.
No news where ever heard again of him
and through the years enough men followed, to form a rightful team.
Man by man they all vanished, they all just disappeared
and they stopped trying to find the girl, they were filled with fear.
So now there was a strong belief
that the girl was kept by a monster under lock and key.
but no one dared to go back there again
after the disappearance of so many brave men.
And so the years passed, then decades flew away
and through the generations, the mystery still remained
what was hiding behind the tower's closed door?
A little girl went there to see, she couldn't wait no more.
She followed the footsteps the others had previously take
but as luck would have it, not their awful fate.
Because she found only an old woman with fire in her eyes
who told her the real story, not the town's lies.
There never were a monster, there was only her
a beautiful, smart and disturbed girl.
She wanted no intruders, not to be married
and when they came uninvited, the price they would paid.
She killed them all without thinking it twice!
But now she was old she wanted to give to someone else her price.
She told the girl the tower she could had
seeing they were alike, they were both of them mad.
The little girl never returned back
and after agreeing not to search for her, the life went back on track.
So this is the story's end,
the monster is never who we think it is, it may even be a friend.
In this tale, the monster was someone looking innocent
no one could ever thought
that the cause of this whole incident
was just a girl who wanted to be forgot.