Some of these images may get some after effects work done on them later, but since I did not set out to do post work with this series, I’m trying to not get distracted and just get the work done.
Oh, and I really love this one.
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I am feeling really good this morning if really tired. Calm is a fucking super power.
Tonys last night… Gods. To be alive when Lin Manuel Miranda is and to realize he’s the bastard love child of Shakespeare and Sam Seaborne. To know that he busted that sonnet out before the fucking show after the tragedy in Orlando…
Fuck it. I am not a writer.
And we got not one, but three times the cast of Hamilton singing and I cannot even.
Hell, I’ll start tearing up again.
And the season? My gods! So many plays and musicals that were just earth-shatteringly good. Spring Awakening as a deaf and hearing portrayed musical? Marlee Matlin and Kenny coming out to present it? I know it’s not his name, but he’s been with her since forever and I can’t imagine anyone else being her voice.
And the woman who played Ceeli in the Color Purple? Are you shitting me? A voice made to tear the roof off of Heaven. Yes. I am beautiful and I am here.
The Gods of Theatre smiled last night. They smiled so wide.
Look around, look around, how lucky we are to be alive right now. You said it, Lin. Thank you. It’s not all tragic and horrors. In this darkest hour, there are still those of us lifting our voices in song and singing brighter than the stars in the sky.
I will tell your story. It’s not the first time I’ve been exhorted to do so. It’s in Everville where Grillo leaves one last request for Tesla after she’s been resurrected and possessed by the Art:
Yes, Tesla thought. I will tell your story. I will tell it with every beat of my heart, every blink of my eye, every breath that I take.
I’m paraphrasing. But it’s lived with me forever. And now Lin exhorts us all again.
Who lives? Who dies? Who tells your story?
I will. I will, I will, I will.