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Unveiling the Art of Acting: Essential Skills and Techniques

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Introduction: Unlocking the Mysteries of the Stage: My Journey as an Aspiring Actor

Ah, the enchanting world of acting! The allure of the spotlight, the thrill of embodying characters, and the magical connection forged with audiences—it’s a journey unlike any other. As I tread this path, I find myself constantly pondering the age-old question: What truly makes a great actor?

As actors, we are entrusted with the task of breathing life into the characters we portray, transporting our viewers to realms both familiar and fantastical. But what is the secret sauce that distinguishes a mediocre performance from one that leaves audiences spellbound?

The Central Question: What Makes a Great Actor?

Embarking on this quest, I found myself navigating through a labyrinth of theories, techniques, and anecdotes shared by seasoned actors. Each step of the way, I discovered key skills that form the bedrock of exemplary performances, transforming mere mortals into thespian titans.

Preview of Key Skills: Unveiling the Art of Acting

Let’s embark on this journey together, shall we? We’ll explore the essential skills required to captivate hearts, minds, and funny bones on stage and screen. From mastering the nuances of emotional intelligence to perfecting the art of improvisation, we’ll leave no stone unturned in our quest for the elixir of acting greatness.

But hey, don’t just take my word for it. Along the way, I’ll sprinkle in some wisdom from the industry’s finest—after all, who better to learn from than those who’ve trodden the boards before us? Join me as we unravel the mysteries of the stage together.

As the legendary Laurence Olivier once quipped, “Drama is life with the dull bits cut out.” So, let’s trim the fat and dive headfirst into the exhilarating world of acting, where every moment is infused with possibility and every performance is a chance to shine.

Understanding the Craft: Unraveling the Tapestry of Acting Mastery

Defining Acting: Where Craft Meets Art

At its core, acting is more than just reciting lines or striking dramatic poses—it’s a delicate dance between craftsmanship and creativity, where every gesture, every word, is imbued with meaning and intention. Acting is the art of embodying characters, breathing life into their stories, and inviting audiences to join us on a journey of discovery.

But what sets acting apart as a craft? Well, dear friends, imagine a sculptor shaping clay or a painter wielding a brush—actors, too, mold and sculpt their performances, crafting nuanced portrayals that resonate with authenticity and depth. It’s a labor of love, requiring skill, dedication, and a keen understanding of the human condition.

The Pillars of Acting: Character, Motivation, and Storytelling

Now, let us delve deeper into the heart of the matter. To truly excel as actors, we must first master the trinity of character, motivation, and storytelling. Characters are not just names on a page—they are living, breathing entities, each with their own quirks, desires, and complexities. Understanding our characters means peeling back the layers, delving into their psyches, and discovering what makes them tick.

But what drives these characters forward? Ah, therein lies the essence of motivation—the invisible force that propels our actions, shapes our decisions, and gives our performances depth and resonance. Whether it’s love, ambition, or a thirst for revenge, understanding our characters’ motivations allows us to inhabit their worlds more fully, forging a deeper connection with our audiences.

And let us not forget the power of storytelling—the beating heart of our craft. As actors, we are not mere conduits for words on a page; we are storytellers, weaving tales that touch the soul, provoke thought, and stir the imagination. Whether it’s a Shakespearean tragedy or a modern-day comedy, every story we tell is an opportunity to illuminate the human experience and provoke profound emotional responses.

Exploring the Method: Stanislavski, Meisner, and Beyond

As we journey further into the realm of acting, we encounter a myriad of techniques and methodologies—each offering its own unique insights into the craft. From Stanislavski’s groundbreaking system of psychological realism to Meisner’s emphasis on spontaneity and emotional truth, these methods serve as invaluable tools in our quest for authenticity and excellence.

And then there’s Method Acting—a term often uttered in hushed tones, conjuring images of intense rehearsals, emotional upheaval, and the occasional bout of on-set diva behavior. But behind the mystique lies a profound philosophy—one that encourages actors to draw upon their own experiences, emotions, and memories to breathe life into their characters. It’s a risky endeavor, to be sure, but when executed with skill and sensitivity, Method Acting can yield performances of unparalleled depth and authenticity.

In the words of the great Sir Ian McKellen, “Acting is not about being someone different. It’s finding the similarity in what is apparently different, then finding myself in there.” So let us embrace the craft, dear friends, and embark on this journey of self-discovery, exploration, and endless possibility. The stage awaits, and the story is ours to tell.

Navigating the Sea of Emotions: Harnessing Emotional Intelligence in Acting

Ah, emotions—the fuel that ignites the flames of storytelling, the currency of connection between actor and audience. As we continue our expedition through the realm of acting, we find ourselves at a crossroads where emotional intelligence and empathy reign supreme.

The Power of Emotional Intelligence: Illuminating the Inner Landscape

Imagine, if you will, a painter with an empty palette, a writer with a blank page—such is the actor without emotional intelligence. At its core, emotional intelligence is the ability to recognize, understand, and regulate one’s own emotions, as well as to empathize with the feelings of others. In acting, this skill is not just desirable; it’s downright indispensable.

Why, you ask? Because acting is the art of human experience incarnate, a mirror held up to the kaleidoscope of emotions that make us who we are. By cultivating emotional intelligence, actors gain access to a vast reservoir of feelings—from joy to sorrow, from anger to love—allowing them to inhabit their characters with authenticity and depth.

Building Bridges of Empathy: Connecting with Characters and Audiences

But how does one go about building this bridge between actor and character, between performer and audience? It begins with empathy—a willingness to step into another’s shoes, to see the world through their eyes, and to feel what they feel. Techniques such as character immersion, sensory exploration, and emotional recall can help actors tap into their own reservoir of experiences, drawing upon memories, sensations, and emotions to breathe life into their characters.

And let us not forget the power of connection—the invisible thread that binds actor to audience, heart to heart. Through techniques like active listening, vulnerability, and emotional openness, actors can forge a profound bond with their viewers, inviting them to share in the joys and sorrows, triumphs and tragedies of the human experience.

Tales of Empathy: When Actors Become the Characters They Portray

As we traverse the annals of acting history, we encounter countless examples of actors who have demonstrated exceptional empathy in their roles—transforming themselves so completely, they become indistinguishable from the characters they portray.

Take, for instance, the incomparable Meryl Streep, whose chameleon-like ability to inhabit a myriad of characters has earned her acclaim and admiration the world over. From the fiery determination of Margaret Thatcher to the haunting vulnerability of Sophie Zawistowski, Streep’s performances are a masterclass in empathy, each imbued with a depth of feeling that resonates long after the curtain falls.

Or consider the late, great Robin Williams, whose boundless energy and infectious charisma endeared him to audiences of all ages. In roles like Patch Adams and Mrs. Doubtfire, Williams wore his heart on his sleeve, tapping into a wellspring of empathy and compassion that endeared him to millions around the globe.

Let us seize this opportunity, dear friends, to cultivate our emotional intelligence, to nurture our empathy, and to harness the power of emotion in service of the stories we tell. For in the end, it is our ability to connect, to feel, and to empathize that truly sets us apart as actors, as storytellers, and as human beings.

More on this topic: From Audition Room to Red Carpet: Mastering Casting Calls and Exploring the Film and TV Industry’s Secrets

Embodiment in Motion: The Artistry of Physicality in Acting

As we continue our voyage through the boundless seas of acting, we arrive at a vital port of call: the realm of physicality and movement. Here, amidst the ebb and flow of bodies in space, lies a treasure trove of expression waiting to be unlocked.

The Language of the Body: Crafting Character through Physicality

A slouched figure, shoulders hunched, head bowed—immediately, you conjure an image of defeat, of resignation. Such is the power of body language, posture, and physicality in shaping our perceptions of character. In acting, every gesture, every stance, becomes a brushstroke on the canvas of storytelling, conveying meaning and intention with every movement.

Consider the regal bearing of a monarch, the nervous fidgeting of a first-time public speaker, or the graceful poise of a dancer—each tells a story, each communicates a truth about the character they inhabit. As actors, it is our task to embody these truths, to channel them through our bodies, and to breathe life into our characters through the language of movement.

Exploring Techniques: Laban Movement Analysis and Viewpoints

But how does one master this intricate dance of physicality and expression? Laban Movement Analysis and Viewpoints—two powerful methodologies that offer actors a roadmap for exploring the infinite possibilities of movement and space.

Laban Movement Analysis, pioneered by the visionary choreographer Rudolf Laban, provides actors with a comprehensive framework for understanding the nuances of human movement. By breaking down movement into its component parts—effort, shape, space, and flow—actors can gain insight into the motivations, emotions, and intentions behind their characters’ actions.

Similarly, Viewpoints—a technique developed by Mary Overlie and popularized by Anne Bogart—invites actors to explore the dynamic interplay between bodies and space. By tuning into the six core viewpoints—time, space, shape, emotion, movement, and story—actors can cultivate a heightened awareness of their physical presence, allowing them to inhabit their characters with greater authenticity and depth.

Exercises for Expressiveness: Unleashing the Body’s Potential

But theory alone will not suffice—we must put these principles into practice, dear friends. Here are a few exercises to help you unleash the full potential of your physical expressiveness:

  1. Body Mapping: Take a moment to explore your body in space, paying attention to tension, alignment, and areas of resistance. Release any held tension, allowing your body to move freely and fluidly.
  2. Gesture Study: Choose a simple action or emotion and explore how it manifests in your body. Experiment with different gestures, postures, and movements, noting the subtle nuances of each variation.
  3. Mirror Work: Stand before a mirror and observe your reflection as you embody various characters or emotions. Notice how your body language changes, adapting to the internal landscape of your character’s psyche.
  4. Partner Exploration: Pair up with a fellow actor and take turns mirroring each other’s movements. Focus on maintaining a sense of connection and responsiveness, allowing your movements to flow organically in response to your partner’s cues.

As the great Martha Graham once said, “The body says what words cannot.” So let us heed the wisdom of our bodies, dear friends, and embark on this journey of exploration and discovery—one movement at a time. For in the end, it is through the language of physicality that we truly come alive on stage and screen, breathing life into our characters and enchanting audiences with the magic of our movement.

Mastering the Melodies of Speech: The Symphony of Vocal Control and Projection

The voice—a powerful instrument wielded by actors to paint vivid portraits, evoke raw emotions, and transport audiences to distant lands. As we continue our exploration of the actor’s toolkit, we arrive at a crossroads where the art of vocal control and projection takes center stage.

The Voice as a Conductor: Shaping Tone, Pitch, and Volume

Close your eyes and listen, dear readers, to the music of the spoken word—the rise and fall of tone, the cadence of pitch, the crescendo of volume. In acting, the voice serves as our conductor, orchestrating the symphony of emotion, intention, and meaning that reverberates through every line of dialogue.

Tone sets the emotional tone of a scene, conveying nuances of mood, attitude, and subtext. From the dulcet tones of love to the thunderous roar of rage, actors wield tone like a painter wields color, infusing their performances with depth and resonance.

Pitch, too, plays a pivotal role in shaping character and storytelling. A high-pitched voice may convey innocence or vulnerability, while a low, resonant voice exudes authority and gravitas. By modulating pitch, actors can imbue their characters with a rich tapestry of qualities, from whimsy to wisdom and everything in between.

And let us not forget volume—the sheer power of projection that allows actors to command attention and fill a room with their presence. Whether whispering a secret or belting out a soliloquy, mastering volume is essential for ensuring that every word reaches its intended audience with clarity and impact.

Exercises for Vocal Warm-ups and Projection: Tuning the Instrument

But how does one cultivate vocal control and projection? Fear not, dear readers, for I have gathered a repertoire of exercises to help you tune your instrument and unleash its full potential:

  1. Breath Control: Begin by practicing deep breathing exercises to expand your lung capacity and support vocal projection. Inhale deeply through your nose, filling your lungs with air, then exhale slowly through your mouth, engaging your diaphragm to control the flow of breath.
  2. Vocal Warm-ups: Warm up your vocal cords with a series of vocal exercises, such as lip trills, tongue twisters, and humming scales. Focus on relaxing your jaw, tongue, and throat muscles to promote flexibility and resonance.
  3. Projection Techniques: Stand tall, feet shoulder-width apart, and imagine your voice as a beam of light emanating from your chest. Project your voice forward, aiming to fill the space around you with sound. Experiment with varying degrees of volume and intensity, finding the perfect balance between projection and clarity.
  4. Articulation and Diction: Practice enunciating each syllable clearly and crisply, paying attention to consonants and vowels. Tongue twisters and tongue twisters are excellent tools for improving articulation and diction, helping actors overcome speech impediments and communicate with precision.

The Significance of Diction and Accent Work: Crafting Characters with Clarity

And let us not overlook the importance of diction and accent work in the actor’s arsenal. Whether adopting a regional dialect or mastering the nuances of a foreign tongue, actors must hone their linguistic skills to portray diverse characters authentically. By mastering the subtleties of pronunciation, rhythm, and intonation, actors can breathe life into their characters, transporting audiences to distant lands and cultures with every word spoken.

In the words of the illustrious Patrick Stewart, “The spoken word has a power all its own.” So let us wield this power with skill and precision, dear friends, harnessing the melodies of speech to captivate hearts, minds, and imaginations alike. For in the end, it is through the magic of our voices that we breathe life into the stories we tell, weaving a tapestry of sound that echoes through the annals of time.

More on this topic: Voice Acting Mastery: Tips for Success and Essential Guidebook Unveiled

The Art of Spontaneity: Embracing Improvisation and Adaptability in Acting

Welcome, dear travelers, to the exhilarating world of improvisation and adaptability—an essential facet of the actor’s craft that infuses performances with spontaneity, creativity, and boundless possibility. Join me as we embark on a journey into the heart of improvisational mastery, where every moment is an opportunity for discovery and delight.

Embracing the Unexpected: The Importance of Improvisational Skills

In the unpredictable landscape of live performance, improvisational skills are a lifeline—a safety net that allows actors to navigate uncharted waters with grace and agility. Whether responding to a forgotten line, a malfunctioning prop, or an unexpected audience reaction, the ability to think on one’s feet and adapt in the moment is invaluable.

But improvisation is more than just a survival tactic; it’s a gateway to creativity, spontaneity, and authentic expression. By embracing the unknown, actors open themselves up to a world of endless possibilities, where every interaction, every choice, becomes an opportunity for exploration and invention.

Techniques for Spontaneous Creativity: Staying Present in the Moment

So how does one cultivate improvisational prowess? It begins with presence—immersing oneself fully in the here and now, attuning to the rhythm of the moment, and surrendering to the flow of spontaneous inspiration. Techniques such as active listening, ensemble building, and “yes, and” improvisation foster a spirit of collaboration and creativity, allowing actors to co-create in real-time with their fellow performers.

Furthermore, embracing the principles of spontaneity, openness, and vulnerability can unlock new depths of authenticity and connection, inviting audiences to join in the exhilarating dance of improvisational exploration.

Excellence in Action: Actors Who Shine in Improvisation

As we look to the stars of stage and screen, we find a constellation of actors who excel in the art of improvisation, elevating their performances to new heights of brilliance.

Take, for instance, the incomparable Robin Williams, whose lightning-fast wit and boundless imagination made him a master of improvisational comedy. From his iconic roles in “Good Morning, Vietnam” to “Mrs. Doubtfire,” Williams effortlessly wove improvisational magic into his performances, leaving audiences in stitches and awe.

Or consider the dynamic duo of Tina Fey and Amy Poehler, whose razor-sharp banter and seamless comedic timing have made them legends of improv comedy. Whether hosting award shows, starring in sitcoms, or headlining blockbuster films, Fey and Poehler bring a spirit of spontaneity and joy to every project they undertake, captivating audiences with their quick wit and infectious charm.

In the words of the legendary Viola Spolin, “Everyone can act. Everyone can improvise.” So let us heed her wisdom, dear friends, and embrace the exhilarating journey of improvisational exploration. For in the boundless playground of the imagination, there are no wrong turns—only endless possibilities waiting to be discovered.

Harmony in Collaboration: The Beauty of Ensemble Work in Acting

Step into the spotlight, dear readers, and join me in celebrating the symphony of collaboration and ensemble work—a cornerstone of the actor’s journey that transforms individual performances into harmonious masterpieces. Let us explore the magic of working together, where every actor becomes a vital note in the grand orchestration of storytelling.

The Collective Canvas: Embracing the Collaborative Nature of Acting

In the vast tapestry of theatrical production, no actor stands alone. Instead, we are part of a larger ensemble—a diverse tapestry of talents, perspectives, and experiences woven together to create something greater than the sum of its parts. In ensemble productions, every actor plays a crucial role in bringing the story to life, contributing their unique voice to the collective chorus of creativity.

But collaboration goes beyond mere cooperation; it is a symbiotic relationship built on trust, respect, and mutual support. By embracing the collaborative process, actors open themselves up to new possibilities, forging deep connections with their fellow performers and inviting audiences into a shared experience that transcends the boundaries of the stage.

The Art of Listening and Reacting: Cultivating Presence and Authenticity

At the heart of ensemble work lies the art of listening and reacting—a dynamic interplay between actors that breathes life into their performances and fosters a sense of immediacy and authenticity. By tuning into one another’s cues, cues, cues, cues, and cues, actors can create moments of genuine connection and spontaneity, allowing the story to unfold organically in real time.

But listening is not enough; actors must also be responsive, reacting in the moment to their fellow performers’ actions and emotions. This requires a willingness to be present, to be vulnerable, and to surrender to the ebb and flow of the collective energy—a dance of give and take that transforms individual performances into a cohesive ensemble experience.

Building Bridges of Trust and Support: Fostering a Cohesive Ensemble Dynamic

So how does one cultivate a supportive and cohesive ensemble dynamic? It begins with trust—trust in oneself, trust in one’s fellow actors, and trust in the collaborative process. By creating a safe and nurturing environment where every voice is valued and every idea is heard, actors can foster a sense of camaraderie and belonging that fuels creativity and innovation.

Furthermore, ensemble work thrives on communication and collaboration—actors must be willing to share ideas, take risks, and collaborate with one another to bring the story to life. By embracing a spirit of openness and generosity, actors can create a fertile ground for exploration and discovery, where every rehearsal becomes an opportunity to grow, learn, and evolve together as artists.

In the immortal words of the esteemed Helen Hayes, “The theatre is a place where one has time for the problems of people to whom one would show the door if they came to one’s office for a job.” So let us open our hearts and minds to the transformative power of ensemble work, dear friends, and embark on this journey of collaboration and creativity together. For in the end, it is the bonds we forge with one another that truly make the magic happen, both on and off the stage.

Forging Ahead: The Grit and Grace of Discipline and Persistence in Acting

Welcome, fellow travelers, to a discussion on the unsung heroes of the acting world—discipline and persistence. As we tread the winding path of thespian ambition, let us illuminate the steadfast determination and unwavering resolve required to navigate the twists and turns of an acting career.

The Long and Winding Road: Perseverance in Pursuing an Acting Career

In the glittering realm of showbiz, success rarely comes overnight. Instead, it is the result of years of toil, dedication, and unwavering commitment. For every actor who graces the silver screen or dazzles on stage, there are countless others who labor tirelessly in obscurity, their dreams buoyed by nothing but sheer perseverance.

Indeed, the road to acting glory is often fraught with setbacks, rejections, and moments of doubt. Yet it is precisely in these moments of adversity that the true test of an actor’s mettle lies. Will they succumb to despair and abandon their dreams, or will they rise above the challenges, fortified by an unshakeable belief in their talent and tenacity?

The Crucible of Discipline: Honing Skills and Navigating Rejection

Central to the actor’s journey is the crucible of discipline—a relentless pursuit of excellence, fueled by a hunger for growth and mastery. Whether honing their craft through rigorous training, attending auditions with unwavering resolve, or navigating the sting of rejection with grace and resilience, disciplined actors understand that success is not a destination but a journey—one that requires dedication, perseverance, and an unwavering commitment to the craft.

Discipline is not merely about adhering to a strict regimen of practice and preparation—it is about cultivating a mindset of relentless pursuit, a willingness to push beyond one’s limits and strive for greatness even in the face of adversity. It is this ironclad resolve, this indomitable spirit, that sets the true artist apart from the rest.

Stories of Triumph Over Adversity: Actors Who Beat the Odds

As we look to the annals of acting history, we find a tapestry of tales that exemplify the power of discipline and persistence in the face of seemingly insurmountable odds. Consider the story of Viola Davis, whose journey from poverty to Hollywood royalty is a testament to the transformative power of perseverance. Despite facing countless rejections and setbacks along the way, Davis refused to be deterred, channeling her fierce determination and unwavering faith in herself to become one of the most revered actors of her generation.

Similarly, the legendary Morgan Freeman endured decades of struggle and obscurity before finally achieving fame and acclaim in his 50s—an inspiring reminder that success knows no age, no timeline, and no expiration date. From humble beginnings to international superstardom, Freeman’s journey serves as a beacon of hope for aspiring actors everywhere, proving that with enough grit, grace, and determination, anything is possible.

In the immortal words of the esteemed Maya Angelou, “You may encounter many defeats, but you must not be defeated.” So let us heed her wisdom, dear friends, and embrace the challenges that lie ahead with courage, resilience, and unwavering determination. For in the crucible of discipline and persistence, true greatness is forged, and dreams are transformed into reality.

Eternal Apprenticeship: The Lifelong Journey of Continuous Learning and Growth in Acting

The Imperative of Ongoing Education: Nurturing the Flame of Creativity

In the dynamic world of acting, stagnation is not an option. As the sands of time shift and tastes evolve, actors must adapt, innovate, and reinvent themselves to remain relevant and resilient in an ever-changing industry. This is where the value of ongoing education and training shines brightest, offering actors the tools, techniques, and insights they need to stay ahead of the curve and continue pushing the boundaries of their art.

From refining acting techniques to mastering new skills, ongoing education provides actors with a platform for growth and exploration, empowering them to reach new heights of creativity and expression. Whether through formal training programs, workshops, or self-directed study, the journey of continuous learning is a never-ending odyssey—an eternal apprenticeship that fuels the fires of passion and curiosity.

The Crucial Role of Workshops, Classes, and Mentorship: Sharpening the Tools of the Trade

But where does one begin this journey of perpetual growth? Enter workshops, classes, and mentorship—the cornerstone of the actor’s education, where raw talent is honed, polished, and transformed into refined artistry. Whether delving into the intricacies of character development, mastering the nuances of vocal control, or exploring the depths of improvisation, these immersive experiences offer actors a safe space to experiment, fail, and ultimately, grow.

Moreover, mentorship plays a pivotal role in shaping the trajectory of an actor’s career, providing invaluable guidance, support, and wisdom gleaned from years of experience. A mentor’s insights can offer a roadmap for success, helping actors navigate the complexities of the industry with grace and confidence.

Embracing Feedback and Learning from Failure: The Path to Mastery

But perhaps the most vital lesson of all is learning to embrace feedback and failure as essential components of the learning process. In a profession where rejection is par for the course, actors must cultivate resilience, humility, and a willingness to learn from their mistakes. Each setback, each criticism, becomes an opportunity for growth—a chance to refine one’s craft, expand one’s horizons, and emerge stronger, wiser, and more resilient than before.

In the words of the revered Stanislavski, “There are no small parts, only small actors.” So let us heed his wisdom, dear friends, and embrace the journey of continuous learning and growth with open hearts and open minds. For in the crucible of relentless pursuit, true mastery is forged, and the flames of creativity burn brighter than ever before.

More on this topic: Unveiling the Secrets of Famous Actors and Actresses – Biographies and Exclusive How-To’s

In Conclusion: The Artistry of Acting Unveiled

As we draw the curtains on our exploration of the captivating world of acting, let us take a moment to reflect on the myriad skills, challenges, and triumphs that define this noble craft. From the depths of emotional intelligence to the heights of physical expressiveness, acting demands nothing less than the full spectrum of human experience, unfurled upon the canvas of storytelling with grace, passion, and unwavering commitment.

Recapitulating the Essentials: The Pillars of Thespian Mastery

At the heart of acting lies a tapestry of essential skills, each a thread woven into the fabric of performance, imbuing characters with depth, complexity, and authenticity. From the subtle nuances of emotional intelligence to the dynamic interplay of physicality and movement, the actor’s toolkit is as diverse as it is indispensable. We have delved into the importance of vocal control, improvisational agility, ensemble collaboration, and the insatiable hunger for continuous learning and growth—a pantheon of abilities that forms the bedrock of thespian excellence.

Reflecting on the Tapestry of the Craft: A Symphony of Dedication

Yet, let us not forget the multifaceted nature of the actor’s journey—a journey fraught with challenges, setbacks, and moments of doubt. It is a path that demands discipline, resilience, and an unwavering commitment to the pursuit of excellence. From auditions to rehearsals, from triumphs to failures, every step is a testament to the dedication, passion, and love that fuels the flames of creativity and drives actors to reach for the stars.

Encouraging Aspirants: The Call to Arms for the Next Generation

To those who dare to dream, who yearn to tread the boards and illuminate the stage with their brilliance, I offer these words of encouragement: Embrace the journey with all your heart. Cultivate your skills with diligence and care. Surround yourself with mentors, collaborators, and fellow travelers who share your passion and vision. And above all, never lose sight of the fire that burns within you—the fire of creativity, of imagination, of boundless possibility.

For in the end, it is not the accolades or the applause that define us as actors—it is the journey itself, the relentless pursuit of our craft, and the indomitable spirit that drives us ever onward. So heed the call, dear friends, and embark on your journey with passion, purpose, and perseverance. For the stage is set, the spotlight beckons, and the world awaits your story. Break a leg, and may your dreams take flight on wings of creativity and grace.

Parenting

A Skeleton in My Family’s Cupboard Is a Skeleton of a Dog

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Penetrate the darkness which clouded over the fate of one girl

This story begins in a sheepfold — it associates with kids — gropes its way through dreadful life mutilation, and stops where only death reigns. – Olya Aman

I reveal this tale in the first person — the way it was told to me by my cousin, let it be written. I’ll use all my mastery over the written word to give it the voice and mood of the people involved.

I was guilty of an act of naughtiness every time I had any chance to tax my parents’ patience. How mischievous I was — matters of no moment. You can laugh at my awkwardness, my stammering, and slowness at some other time. My parents were too much absorbed in daily hassles to fight against my whims and screams. I wanted a dog, and when my mom agreed with few objections, I chose the ugliest little creature ever existent. I always was the black sheep of the flock, and my dog was no better. Not any child but me could have picked such a nasty little beast. When my mom was holding my hand in front of a cage with the eight offsprings of our neighbor’s huge German King Shepherd, I saw her scowl at the little baldy black pup — and I knew instantly which one to take home with me.

He was the smallest of the brood and, surprisingly, grew up to be the biggest of the eight. He did everything with a bang; he barked in season and out of it. Dundee, the name I picked to commemorate my love for the famous movie Crocodile Dundee, was mad with rage at cats and rats, and mad with love for kids and chickens. Don’t even ask me why? He had that hearty, downright kindness towards little lady-girls. He would let all children do what they pleased with him, ride on his back, drag him by his tail, pull his ears. Try what not — he was patience and good humor personified. But Dundee licked the faces of girls and only the hands of boys.

It was our second year together when I began to suspect that Dundee was unfaithful to me. I discovered that he had fallen in love with the prettiest thing in our village. The cunning, flirtatious creature was a girl of my age. She had the biggest blue eyes and that rosy mouth of a doll that made people think she constantly was blowing the air out or getting ready to kiss every living thing. But Alisa, that was the name of the girl, was somewhat handicapped. She seemed to live in a dream, talking about flowers and imagining herself to be a dandelion, the abundance of which was a calling card of our place. She danced, not walked, sang instead of talking, and was dressed only in green, and with her hair of a sunny yellow shade, she reminded of the wretched weed indeed.

Her father was a simple and naïve widower. About a month before the dreadful scene, Victor set us all by the ears by bringing the most heartless and deceitful person of the entire region to our remote village. I searched back through the labyrinth of my past to bring back to you the rumors about this vile person because every one of them later, when he’d paid for his deeds, proved to be the truth. He was known to beat his wife when liquor got into his head, which happened way too often. There was definitely a screw loose in his head when it came to pretty young ladies. People saw him quadrupedal in the grass close to the school, doing no one knew what. Victor, Alisa’s father, considered this brutal man to be his friend. Women and men alike scolded Victor for associating with this vile person. We knew the gossips and believed it. But Alisa’s father turned a deaf ear to all those warnings. Victor repeatedly stated that he was saved from robbery and brutal bitting by this man. He paid the debt with respect and trust. Later, we suspected that the man himself organized the attack to get closer to the father of the most charming little flower in our parts.

Victor was overprotective of his stunning little daughter. She was a living proof that one time in his life, a woman loved him and bore him a child paying for this deed with her life. When my scary-looking Dundee saw the pretty thing, he lost his head. From then on, he ran off to her garden and came home only to satisfy his appetite for the leftovers of my mother’s delicious cooking and to spend the night, as was a custom between us, by my bedside. Dundee was devoted to me but, at the same time, adored Alisa. He couldn’t help being always close to this flowery creature. Alisa knew to the smallest detail the unsparing anatomy of my dog’s heart. Somehow they looked like a perfect pair — A Beauty & The Beast. Dundee brushed up his manners and looked a perfect gentle-dog, always smoothing away the creases of her dress and holding in his vast mouth the dandelions she picked.

Try as I might, I couldn’t rummage through my memory for the exact date for the dreadful incident. The closest I can get is to recollect that it happened sometime after my twelve’s birthday. I remember that my mother was still riding the high horse, angry with me for a broken vase and an adventure of a ruined birthday dress. 
The date is of no importance, though, as now we are at an unspeakably delicate distance from the heart wrecking events. Those I couldn’t wash from my memory hard as I tried.

Victor never left his precious daughter home alone. Wherever he went, he always took Alisa with him. He had no regular employment, leaving his job as a welder when his wife died. Being a skilled man he was never left without work, helping everyone in the village with everything anyone needed assistance with.

That unfortunate day, a call from his malicious friend forced him to go out late at night. As we learned later, he called at ten p.m. and requested urgent help in some simple but important matter, claiming the occasion not worth explaining on the phone and demanding to see Victor in person. He only said that it would not take long, that they just needed to talk it over in the nearest village pub. Victor should have refused point-blank, but the man insisted, saying he would consider this favor as a payment of the old debt. Victor looked in his daughter’s room. The girl was fast asleep, and he thought somehow it would be ok to leave her for a couple of hours unattended. Little that he knew about the mischievous plot set up by his fraudulent friend.

At the same time, in my room, my furious beast was out of all sorts. It was the only hour when my dog was invariably by my side. I can admit now that I forced Dundee to sleep by my bedside when he would have rather preferred a hut outside in our garden. I was getting ready to sleep and could not get him to calm down. Something stirred him up. Dundee was continuously whining and scratching at the closed door. He never behaved like that before. I gave in and let him go, wondering what the matter with my dog was. We learned from Victor the account of the events that followed. Let me present it in his own narrative.

“I heard the loud barking when I was halfway to the pub where I had the arranged meeting. Dundee almost knocked me to the ground. I should admit, I was scared. The bruit was huge and behaved strangely, pulling the sleeve of my coat and dragging me homewards. I tried to fight Dundee, imploring him to let me go, but to no avail. The creature was out of his mind. Then I had a notion, you know, a tightening in the heart and a loss of regular breath at my throat. Something was amiss with my girl, I thought. Everybody knew about this dog’s devotion to my daughter. How I got back home, I barely can tell. I was running with my heart in my mouth.

“When I approached the house, I saw the light in my daughter’s bedroom and struggled for the key to the door. Not finding one in my pockets, I violently pressed on the door with my whole body and almost cracked my skull when I fell on the floor. The door was not locked! The dog rushed past me, barking viciously all the time. When I entered the room, Dundee was on top of that man. My Alisa was sitting on her bed with her nightdress on the floor and her pretty little face agitated. I covered her in a blanket and ran out of the room to prevent her from seeing the scene of a murder. My side vision couldn’t mistake it for anything else. The villain managed to utter only one frightful cry, and then it was only the sound of growling and chattering. The hip of bloody mass under the fierce dog was past all doctoring.

“I couldn’t help the man. Even then, being so much shaken by what happened, and with my sluggishly working mental powers, I admit, I thought he richly deserved his cruel fate. I needed to save the fragile mind of my precious daughter. By now, she was drawing her breath convulsively. I brought her to my bedroom. Holding her in my arms, I rocked her to and fro, whispering words of tender consolation. I was crying like a baby, hiding my face in the creases of the blanket.”

That was the first thrilling sensation of which all the people of our village were talking for months. The developments that followed began to alter fast. Victor called the police and the ambulance. The death from fatal wounds inflicted by a German King Shepherd named Dundee was stated. The dog, though, was nowhere to find. The law said to put the beast to sleep in a case like that. Police officers and volunteers searched through and through, but they didn’t find Dundee. Alisa was not seriously harmed. I don’t think she realized that her father’s friend, as the man referred to himself when implored the girl to open the door, was about to offend her in any way. He asked her to undress, saying he had a new gown for her, and if she would be a good girl, he would let her try it on. Her mind luckily blotted the other events of that night. She continues to be a beautiful dandelion in her green dress, walking the fields and singing her songs even today.

We seldom talked about the dog. I felt as if treading on the delicate ground each time I mentioned his name. I believed him alive, hiding somewhere. My father told me some years past the true fate of my brave Dundee. At the time of the accident, he and Victor kept it a secret between themselves to make sure the police would not get any notion of what happened. That horrid night Victor called my father, and only when my dad took the dog out of the house and into his van, aiming at his brother’s farm a hundred and fifty miles away, Victor called the ambulance and the police. Shortly after my discovery, I went to my uncle’s farm to learn about my friend’s further life. Here what my uncle said, revealed in his own words.

“Your dog was worth his weight in gold. Take my word for it, dear. He lived a solitary life on my farm, running after the rats and cats and affectionately mothering the chickens. He never expressed any even slight attachment to me or any human being. His heart was forever given to that little flower girl, I think. I often saw him wandering among the fields with a bunch of dandelions in his mouth. He seemed to pass his later years cloudy in the head. Very quiet, very sad. Do you want to see his grave?”

I saw the earth’s elevation under the only tree in a vast field quite far from the house. It was his favorite spot, my uncle said. The very silence of the place seemed to be exaggerated. I battled out of my lethargy and laid a bouquet of dandelions on his grave.

Stay tuned…

Personal Growth

2 Simple Things That Will Teach You to Enjoy Your Life

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Gratitude is the heart’s memory. – French Proverb

1) We Do Not Control When the Last Day, the Last Hour, or the Last Moment of Our Life Will Be

By some odd universal law, we are not taught to appreciate what we have and should cherish. Interesting fact: we do not control when the last day, the last hour, or the last moment of our life will be. So why not make this day, this hour, this moment special. And it might not be any different day from yesterday and the day before. But it is in your power to make this moment singular by enriching it with thoughts You pick, feelings You define, and images Your eyes want to see.

If you set yourself up to see the bare tree and a foggy gloomy day with no sun in the sky to brighten your “now” – you exclude yourself from the beauty of the smoky-bluish-grey sky, the freshness of misty-dewy air, the soft whispering of the wind and the magnificence of sleeping nature getting ready, growing strength to bloom with colors in spring that is just around the corner. 

2) You Can Consciously Fine-Tune Your Inner Radio-Wave

Enjoy the little things for one day you may look back and realize they were big things. – Robert Brault

You have the control and you are able to consciously fine-tune your inner radio-wave to a “happy-sunny-mood” station. Every breath is precious, every sound is unique, and every glance is dear – love yourself and love every moment. Before you open your eyes after leaving the warm embrace of sleep think about the good you want to bring to this day. Think about the person you want to make happy and what can you do to bring a smile to this lovely face. 

Conclusion

Gratitude is your playmate in this happy-game of life. There are so many things we take for granted and this is the biggest mistake ever made. You are given sight – say “thank you”, you can walk – be appreciative, you are healthy – that is the greatest gift anybody can have. There is no need to go far in search of a brave heart that despite physical limitations or severe health issues inspires people by the example of unconditional love and beauty of their souls. Look around and you may find such person living just a few steps from your threshold. Open your eyes and ears to the messages these people share by an example of their life. 

Stay tuned…

Personal Growth

In a Field of Battle With Regret, You Must Either Slay or Be Slain

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My boss fell in love with me and laid me off

Regret made me goofy. Sorrow gave me an enigmatic flavor. – Olya Aman

I was out of heart

The existence of conscience makes the claws of regret sharp. And the stronger one, the deeper the other can penetrate a sensitive flesh. The depressing influence of this feeling creates the sensation of a jail in a living body. This emotion casts a grim look on life. The damp atmosphere that regret creates is suffocating. We need to learn how to dispel the smog from the past and at the same time to keep our hearts from being dried-up.

I was out of humor and out of heart. It has been almost two years now, but my grief grew fast and furious with every succeeding year. My best friend, the one I was secretly in love with, died from heart failure. Miraculously, we were at the stop sign when it happened, the horn of a car announced the death. His innocent and pathetic face was radiant with new happiness. I couldn’t help wondering how he could be so glad to leave me alone. Sitting on a front passenger seat, I unconsciously called to mind a portrait I saw in a gallery some years ago. The painter neglected the background, reserving all the magic of his brush for the quiet, happy face of a man. My friend at that moment looked just like him, as if he had caught the golden glory of heaven on his countenance.

Arm-wrestling with the past

The catastrophes of previous days can darken with a shade of remorse the future ones. Some deeds are done impetuously, others are out of our control. To weather those storms of life and not to be worn out is the actual purpose of their existence. There is no way to change what’s done, so no need to stamp life with the print of past adversities.

He felt discomfort in his chest for a few weeks before the terrible culmination on that day. I mentioned to him several times that he needed to see a doctor. I blamed myself for lack of persistence. And the regret I felt had a sensation of almost maternal protection. Its watchful eye never left my side. It didn’t let my mind wander elsewhere. Some days I could feel the throbbing of his heart as if he was pressed in an affectionate embrace close to my chest. Those days were worse than others.

I would do impossibilities to bring him back. I owed my happiness to him. It felt like an explosion now when he was gone. And I could not pick up the fragments with all the care of an antiquary I applied. I became stifle. My mind and soul were on fire, and that blaze seemed to gleam from hell. There was no space left for new emotions.

That dark, evening power that dominated in my life had some magnetic energy that attracted empathetic people. There are some ways of looking at you that seem to penetrate your soul. I looked at people and made them feel as though they had nothing on. That irritated a lot and captivated many. After all, that sorrow I endured gave me that Renaissance’s ‘Juliet’ flavor. And my gloomy voice could talk the language of enigmatic gallantry of that time.

I often was behind handed with my work, but my senior manager closed his eyes on every mismatch in my schedule. The tension was growing. I could not see the outpouring lava of affection that I excited. My handsome boss was on fire, like a human volcano he loved me with the fierce of unchained nature.

But I was a different person after 2 years of mourning. I gazed about me with a saddened eye, paying attention to the dim side of life. That desire to expand every misfortune in daily life and minimize the impact of many little jolly things was roasting me alive. I needed thunder and lightning to wake me up and transform that death-like, sepulchral look into my regular prior-to-the-fatal-day features.

My heart finally spoke to me, and I happened to take to it. The blow of losing a job served as a curing disaster that shook my essence. When enough time was given to self-wandering, I realized that there were still pages in my life book that I had not read.

Let me tell you what I’ve found on those pages

Arm-wrestling with the past is an exhausting and worthless process. A positive view on days-by-gone creates a profusion of loving energy that motivates a person in his life. Occurrence in the past, bad or good, is a wonderful lesson that builds personality. Everyone is unique because every experience is individual. The way one interprets it determines his success or failure in life. There is no way to change the past, but altering your attitude towards it is magical.

Give a new turn to your thoughts

To be more ardent, more eloquent, more entrancing is a process of growth that often goes hand in hand with ill luck and pain. For the sake of my future happy life, I’ve decided to respect my past. That experience was a tombstone that kept the castle of my unique personality firm and steady. In the enormous mileage of the past, everything is a blessing. Tears poured over some broken expectations should teach a lesson of breathing through the pain and moving with a renewed and re-skilled hope.

Revert the importance

Life is cooler when sometimes less weight is given to the important and more value devoted to the trifling little jolly things. So, in other words, performing a blah with sarcastic importance and taking important for a mumbo-jumbo is quite a good key to a lighter step in life. Various pieces of information assemble the personality and it just happens so that misfortunes give a more positive outcome in terms of helpful life tools than merry experiences could have done.

Let the past be your capital

Trudging timidly through life was a punishment that I inflicted on myself when consciously dwelled on the past with disappointment in my mind. I decided to consider my past experience as a capital that can help me to take the right turn in the right moment in the future.

The result proved to be magnificent

I do not have greedy teeth for blessings, but always remember to be grateful for every little merry moment. That is why life is good-natured to me now. Happiness is the poetry spoken in a woman’s voice. I had my second chance to hear the poem of my life.

Now I and my ex-boss listen to those delicious sounds together.

Stay tuned…

 

Parenting

Kidnapping Can Cast Down for Sure. But Can It Elevate?

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Here is a conundrum indeed! How soon can you solve it?

Olya Aman

My object in parading this private affair before the reader is to commemorate the remarkable series of events and convey the evidence of what love can build and what it can destroy. – Olya Aman

I present to you here a true story with written evidence that came to my possession through the hands and words of the primary witnesses, who happen to be my friends. I intend to preserve everybody’s incognito in this tale, so let me reveal no names, no places.

Imagine a tiny town where everybody knows each other. If you think this place quiet and unremarkable, you cannot be farther from the truth. People here invent the most mysterious crime affairs to amuse themselves. The outcome of this tale proved to be the zenith of one family’s happiness and, hopefully, the nadir of their troubles.

Mother

I was asked to exaggerate nothing and suppress nothing from what happened more than thirty years ago. My imagination tends to people the darkness of those days with additional terrors sometimes. I’ll do my best to restrain from it.

I used to be a night-club, knock-about-city young girl who was determined to teach herself a lesson by marrying a simple police officer and moving to the smallest town ever existent. After the hubbub and bustle of a big city, I hoped to find soul-soothing serenity in the three-story walls of ancient buildings, corner grocery shops, wooden benches close to every threshold, and the grand loving eyes of my man.

Calm and quiet were showering upon me thick and fast. The monotony of my existence started to grind me away soon enough. I managed to hold the rapture of boredom and adventure starvation for the first three years, and the three that followed were hell for both of us indeed. My husband should have known better than marrying a woman like me.

We were living in constant gnawing anxiety. The real reason for my unhappiness was in my allusion to pain. I was sure that my relationship was lacking the spark. I was longing for emotional suffering and physical agony. It seemed to me that only torture could make me feel alive. The grim orchestra in my head was playing about the passion I lacked and the pain I craved. My tumultuous thoughts were driving me nuts.

I droned my days away in that gloomy town. Household chores: cooking, cleaning, a little bit of reading, and dreaming about some other man beside me, some different life endured. I should have found something to do in that dreary place. But what could I find with my political science degree? Too sophisticated for that place I was.

Oddly enough, only fear still kept us together. My husband, I suspected, feared loneliness and to set everyone’s tongue wagging about our private affairs. I feared my son rejecting me for breaking the family and my inner desire to inflict pain on myself and my husband. Trouble was brewing; I was asking for it.

I anticipated some unfortunate event for some weeks before that day. It started as always with a silent breakfast. Both my husband and I were tired of keeping the picture of a happy family for the sake of our six-year-old son. Mind you, we never as much as raised voice to each other. We simply didn’t talk but for hateful ‘good morning’ and ‘have a good day’.

My husband made his lunch, put a few apples in a bag for our son to take to his grandma, and both of them were gone with the usual ‘see you tonight’. At half-past six, my husband came home. I warmed up his dinner and said, “I will call your mom and ask if they are home by now? I will pick him up and take him to his karate class at seven-thirty.”

I picked the phone and dialed the number. Our son was not there. His mom thought we had some other thing scheduled. My husband grabbed the receiver from my shaking hand and pushed me gently aside. “It’s ok,” he said to his mother. He told her we forgot about some other arrangement and that he was at his friend’s place. What was he talking about? What friend? What kind of arrangement? Those questions were whirling in my head.

This done, my husband looked at me in a strange way. The intensity of his gaze silenced me. It was a look of a hungry, watchful reproach. “I’ll find him. Don’t you worry,” he said, picked up his jacket, and was gone.

Father

My family was always unspeakably precious to me. There was nothing I couldn’t do to save it. Bare it in mind while reading this narrative of mine. I loved my wife more than anything. I knew from the very beginning, she was not the woman a simple chap like me could catch and hold still in his hands. She needed drama, and drama was a rare coin in my native town. I had to mind that currency myself.

It was a custom with us to take our son to my mother’s place, so my wife had a day to herself. She said she needed that time alone, and I submitted. I seldom could say ‘no’ to anything she wanted. I usually drove to the parking lot of a three-story apartment building where my mother lived.

Our son used to get out of the car, give me his ‘see you later, dad’, enter the building and his grandma’s flat on the second floor all by himself. This brief trip gave him a sense of maturity, something to add to his list of ‘I can’.

What was wrong this time? Why wasn’t he at his usual place?

When home again, I said to my wife that I knocked at each and every door of this building, asking about our boy. No one as much as saw him that day. She blamed me, and I, half-expecting such reaction, didn’t object.

She was out of all sorts, now saying in her querulous, rattling whisper how she missed her son, now flinging distinct words of hatred into the air, now shedding a gust of tears and scratching her face, now heaving convulsively barely able to talk, imploring me to do something.

That was her niche in life, her long-awaited drama. So much feeling in every gesture — that was my beastly little girl again. I had to slap her on the face to bring her back to senses.

What an outcome from this insult! I never as much as raised a thought against a woman not talking about a hand. She caught my hand and pressed it to her burning cheek. She kissed it, then higher. My arm, shoulder, collarbone, ear lobe — what an electric shock was going through every little cell of my body! It had ceased to be my own.

The desire we both felt expanded into a series of scenes with pain and pleasure united, angry kisses, throwing each other against all surfaces. Bruising her flesh, she was getting the unsettling inner feeling out, releasing her emotional distress. When all was over, she was lying on a couch in dreamless slumber. I went out into the night to look for our son.

Grandmother

My old, cast-away husband was out of our lives for twenty years. He left us when our son was twelve. Not that he planned it. They sentenced him to three years for a drunken scuffle in a local bar. One man almost died from the severe beating my husband was to blame for. He got out of jail and out of our lives.

On our son’s thirty-second birthday, the old beggar brought his shaking frame to my flat and pleaded to have a chat with his son. I was beside myself with indignation, to say the least. I hated my husband for leaving us. Over a year, he was patiently asking for permission to be a part of our family.

My son and I agreed to see him now and then, with one condition, he had to keep it a secret. My son didn’t mention it to his wife. I never openly met him outside. Were we ashamed of him? He WAS a dosser, after all. Or were we punishing him in this way? I don’t know for sure.

I was angry with myself for being silly and liking, I couldn’t admit at the time, but LOVING was the right word, my husband, during all those years he was away. I couldn’t shake off the inveterate distrust which weighed for all those years on my spirits.

That is why when this alien and strangely familiar person asked to see his grandson, I could only stand rooted in the ‘No’ and ‘Never’. It was a very trying time for me. Eventually, he had tamed me. One day my son and I submitted to his pleadings and promised to arrange everything.

Grandfather

I was old and sick and tired of my lonely life. I had reasons of my own to leave my family. The rods of iron with which prison surrounded me were ever-present in my mind. At some point, I felt that my life was at its lowest ebb. Then and there, like a pitiful mongrel, I crept back meekly to my family. For the first time in my entire life, I humbled myself to pleading for forgiveness with all the patience I still had left in me.

I went to my old hut near the lake. I used to go there in the glorious old days when fishing. This shabby place was creepy, just as I was at that stage of my life. But still, those walls were much better than any bench I used to call home. For over a year, I waited for my wife and son to soften for me. I didn’t put my mind in total blank with the drink. I abandoned this degrading habit because I knew it could force me to lose every inch of the ground I had gained.

The day my son patted me on the shoulder and promised to let me see my grandson, my heart gave a great bound. This news almost turned me giddy. The thought half maddened me with delight. I spent the following couple of days getting ready, putting things in order at my lonely cabin. The little chap needed a cozy place to stay. I exhausted myself with plans for the future rendezvous with my boy. I knew just then — I’d lived through all misfortunes to see my grandson, to get things straight with my son, and to pray for my wife’s forgiveness.

I didn’t remember myself being as tender-hearted as at the moment my son brought this boy in his car on that day. I was fool enough to shed a couple of tears. I wanted to wipe away the wrongs my family suffered through with this last effort of submissive affection. All the gold left of my wasted nature, I poured at the feet of my grandson. I keep the memory of those two days in my heart of hearts.

Son

The air was close and stagnant in that hut. This old man was kind but rude, and he looked almost cruel. I liked him right away, though. How can it be is clean past my comprehension even now, thirty years since? He said, “Don’t middley-coddley, there a good boy. Nothing to be worried about. We’ll have a rattling good time fishing.” The old man said I could call him grandpa, and I did. I knew by my childish instinct, that was seldom wrong, he was my friend.

I remember as if it was yesterday that I never felt myself so mature, so bold and courageous, so skilled and manly. I stayed with this wrinkled weather and life beaten person for two long and memorable days. What a blast! Running in the fields, making birdhouses, playing with the shabby little dog, fishing, and cooking our fish soup over a riverside fire.

My father came with the haste of happiness in his feet in the evening of the second day. I haven’t seen him like that before. I was happy to see this change, and perhaps a little piqued too.

Mother

My husband could not sit down alone to wait through the crisis of our life. He left the house that night after we had the most sensual experience. He remembered that he was leaving an anxious heart at home and phoned me a few times, updating me on the progress of his search. He called me tender names, and I didn’t humor him as I used to.

On the second day in the early evening hours, he came home. I met him with my entire being, imploring for some uplifting news. He didn’t have any. Then I gave him a defiant look, and with mockery, I eagerly blamed him again for what had happened. I should have gone to look for my boy myself. Why did he persuade me to stay at home and wait for some developments? Oh, how my heart sank under a dread. It was beyond words.

Then he confessed. He said he didn’t plan it. We barely exchanged a few words those days, and he simply forgot to tell me he’d arranged for our son to spend a day with his grandfather. I didn’t even know the man existed. My husband never mentioned him. I assumed his father was dead. When he came home and saw my worried look when I was talking on the phone with his mother, only then he felt a plan forming itself in his brain.

He wanted to enliven my love for many years now. He didn’t know how to shake that lethargy I seemed to live in. He said that the pretense of searching for his son, the common disaster he invented, the tears and worries that both of us shared for almost two days brought us together. We were a family, at last, a mother and a father struggling to find their son.

Oh, how mad with rage I was. I called him nasty names. I was storming through our house, smashing the furniture. But in the midst of all those turbulent feelings, there was a glow of hope in me. Hang it all; he was right. I deserved the shock and shake I’d got. I was alive with burning emotions. I breathed passion in the air.

The strange march of events during those two days changed the course of our lives forever. Happy life ever after? Oh, by Heaven, no. But eventful, for sure. We made it a rule always to break the monotony and to meet our passion half-way. When our boy enjoyed time with his grandparents, we had our hurry-skurry adventures. I used to tell him, “Remember it doubly and trebly to make me FEEL your love.”

Stay tuned…