It's time
Presentation: It’s time… for inner dissection, for thinking over, finding and reaching the Inner, personal self. For looking back to the way to the present, for betrayal and forgiveness, love and hope. For the call of Nature. And it has to be admitted right away – career is nothing compared to Nature. The first peak is climbed (with the cost of a very high price), and now it’s the second one’s turn! Time is ripe and ready for maternity.
Breathless…impatient…
Unravelling life / With no remorse.
Personages:
The woman - Actress
The screen
He – Andrei
It’s time! And because it starts to hurry up a lot, now, because of itself, I’m turning hands counter-clockwise. Only for myself! For me! I must see myself. I must put myself together! I cannot live from one role to another, I cannot be an episode of my own life. I could – until now! In fact, it’s not that I can’t, I don’t want to. Years of my life have passed but you can’t really notice, can you?! Yes, except I’m a self-willed and hard-working donkey, I’m one of those people who don’t give up easily. Well, tonight, I’m giving up. It’s time…
***
After the show, many people came to me just to greet me, to thank me, to touch me, to know me. I remember this woman. Tall and beautiful. She was holding a baby in her arms. Dear child, I wonder how it had endured the whole performance?! The woman greeted me, then she shared that she used to want to be an actress, but her life had taken a different course and… “you see?” Then I saw. A pair of two little eyes, on the woman’s shoulder, they were looking at me. A bit sleepy, its hair falling on its forehead, fine drops of sweat, a tiny hand, rubbing its nose. The child’s eyes were… her eyes. “Now, sweetie, we’re going home.” And just for a moment, she forgot about me. She kissed its soft palm, wrapped it up with all her love and I was left there, with her big gratitude. Just gratitude. Pure, warm… At that time. That’s all I remember. It was a good role.
***
How could I express this great feeling?! This triumph?! Of the spirit? … Of what has been shared with so many people?! How?! … Before you appear on that lit-up miracle – the stage, with many eyes pinned to it, your heart is like a lump, the pulse – it’s beating, your words are suddenly gone from your head, or at least this is what happens to me, I feel weightless, only my nerves are pulling me like a string, I’m vibrating with energy and I want to let it out, to share it, because it’s suffocating me. You could go off, if you don’t release it soon. And you suddenly forget the eyes, those down there, they’re not only good ones, you forget that your heart’s about to burst and you go out… Spotlights, the white light, the sets so familiar that it almost feels like pain, you, in your man’s Soul, the silent people who have come to share the great miracle. The Theatre!… How is this described?! It is a feeling that burns… And the more you give, the more you wish to do it… Silence is dark, closing its breath, joint breathing. You feel it, live with it, and it does, too, with you. You are one. And then – the blow. Afterwards. The gratitude. The energy has been released, shared. It ascends in honour of Their Majesty, the Spectators.
***
I’m really tired. Really, very much. I’m exhausted. I want clear and simple things. Besides spotlights, I want to see the stars. Besides the three sides of the stage, I want to go to the fourth one – down there, where the audience is. I would say I’m one of you. I am grateful to you, I love to act for you, and for myself, but I have to play another part in my life now. Right? You will understand me, won’t you? I am not just make-up, wigs, heroines; under all there things, deep down lives the Other Me. Who is more real?! I would ask?! And the Spectator would answer, “You decide! It’s up to you!” I never spared myself. But now I feel like pulling myself together at last. I want to look like myself. “It’s your right!” the Spectator says. It really is. Besides playing and acting, I love starry nights – just like that – to gaze at the stars, to fly high. I am a seagull. No, this is a text. From a play. I am a bird. Yes, I am a bird. Or at least I want to be. Freedom and open space. This is what I want. I want to fly. Love – naturally! A child – more that anything… Yes, I want a child. Andrei’s child. Time has come. For my interval.
