Auditions for Shakespeare’s “The Taming of the Shrew.”
Bianca, the adorable sister of the shrew, loved and desired by all, will be played by –
the undersigned!
(The guy above is just one at random, but he’s stupendous.)
MomComm: Shakespeare. I was the screaming bitch wife in “A Comedy of Errors”. That was fun.
Home, sweet home – mine, too, for four years. I still have dreams about the first days coming back at the beginning of a new semester, unpacking, finding out who my roommate would be…
OMG
I GET PHOTOGRAPHED
and no longer
PHOTOGRAPH MYSELF
Walking, not the easiest thing to do with this on…
I like the picture because NOTA BENE: no purse, no cellphone, makeup, various objects… ONLY a camera and my magnificent self! (Wrapped in a cloth, very simply.)
Here they ask me questions like: “What is the difference between religiosity and spirituality?”
Here they ask me to tell MY opinion, talk about MY life, about MY tastes, and MY beliefs and habits.
The one on the right is a teacher, who is dancing with a student.
I feel so cosmopolitan!
One day I’m wandering around London with my hair expensively curled, looking at shop windows where the price of a pair of underwear equals the bimonthly salary of some Indian whom I will see in a few days, on the streets of New Delhi.
5:26 AM
I’m leaving.
([photo of] the celebrations from last night)
Next upload from India, it’s official!
Just me.
Two suitcases*, max 20 kilos each.
Since this will be a year in India, I was forced to discard low-necked shirts, miniskirts and short-shorts, high heels and wedge sandals: in other words, everything I usually wear!
Put aside is the useless junk, the designer stuff that I’d be ashamed to show off.
I look around, see my usual room – companion of strange moods, breakdowns in front of the mirror, wild dances, and songs at the top of my voice. My bed that creaks, the TV that keeps me company during sleepless nights, old diaries, fashion magazines, Barbies covered in dust, horse models, stuffed animals.
An archive of memories and variegated objects which, up til a little while ago, I was convinced were a big part of who I am.
Every Saturday evening after dinner, I faced my closet with an air of challenge, thinking that, no matter how full it was, it wouldn’t be enough to supply a completely satisfactory outfit that would make me feel beautiful, carefree, and happy.
From the closet I moved to the mirror, to wage battle with my image, my weapons mascara and eyeshadow.
I smile thinking of the usual “stroke of genius” that comes to me every now and then.
Today it was to photograph myself nude.
While I did it I felt beautiful,
carefree,
happy.
Tomorrow I will leave with two suitcases which I hope weight more or less 20 kilos each, filled with the bare necessities.
In any case, I’m always me.
Minus a few costumes to wear.
(However, if I return with my head shaved and converted to some strange religion – hit me!)
*Mom: Well, that turned out to be wrong!
