Sunday, March 23, 2014

Slice of Life 23/31

    I sit in the uncomfortable fold-up seat doodling in my notebook. Doing this, I try to zone out all of the people talking around me and practice different techniques of shading with a pen on the side of the page. I am not very good at blocking out words, so I start to try to place faces and backgrounds for the voices around me in the room. Everyone here (including me and my parents) are waiting here in a small hybrid theater owned by a dance company that makes you want to think the they are important and wealthy to see our various family members (my sister is in it) in a short performance. I know they want you to think they are a well known dance company because they obviously invested a lot of money into their advertising, with cool-looking posters and small ads in the newspaper.
    As I am playing the game with myself of giving everyone I can hear faces and personalities based off of their voices, I never sneak a loo at them until they have stopped talking with their families and are probably looking at a program (which was obviously payed for to look nice). I imagine an old man sitting close to me on my right talking about a wide arrange of cameras he owned to be deteriorating with longish white hair, and the guy he is talking to to be a young man that is only paying attention out of respect for the old man. When I finally look at them, I am surprised to see that they are nearly the same age, just with different voices.
    I continue to draw in my notebook, reflecting on past performances from this place and what my sister has done in them. It is modern dance, so I expect a lot of artistic movement which can be more entertaining than ballet, but it also means that the 'pieces' are longer. I brace myself for being bored during this, and hope my sister does good, as the lights begin to dim.      

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