Every night, I spend my time rehearsing for “Ang Pinakamakisig sa mga Nalunod sa Buong Daigdig”; the first production of Dulaang Atenista for the school year.
A little synopsis:
Five women discover a dead body washed upon their shores. As their men investigate its origin, they soon fall in love for the dead body. Thus, calling him the handsomest-drowned-man-in-the-whole-world.
Ok, for those of you who don’t know, I’ll be acting as Grandma (Lola). I know, Lola? It took me awhile to understand the character. I’m not that old. That’s where my mom comes in. I asked her a lot of questions about being an old woman. Good thing she took it the right way or else I might have gotten her Flaming Might.
So yeah. I had fun. A lot of laughs shared with Sheila, Yves, Shaun, and Roque.
Two days ago Kuya Ryan said each of us were artists. “Fuck people who say otherwise.”, he said.
It’s weird how epiphanies come to me in mundane situations. When I was on my way home, a thought came to me. Am I an artist? Who am I to ask that? What does it take to be an artist? What the hell is wrong with me?!
What does it take to be an artist? Do I need to starve? Do I need to die?