The Performance

The lights dimmed and darkness brought silence to the chatty crowd. The dark quiet cloaked each of the soon to be kindred spirits. It took them quietly away and into a moment of solitude and reflection. Each was now alone. All senses were diminished in the darkness; only allowed to exist in the darkness was that of smell and the air filled with the scent of the thick, heavy, old velvet curtains that served as a soft barrier between the performer and her audience. The feeling of solitude was short lived.

Anticipation swelled.

It created its own reality. It was a thirst for the pending union that teased with the quiet and the darkness. Nothing else exists in this moment of waiting. The mind and heart are emptied. Emptiness allows for fulfillment. The emptiness is a cleansing. It takes the paint from the canvass and offers the artist a pure white form to create and express. It is exactly that emptiness that creates the anticipation; more of a wanting or need perhaps. “Fill me up with your essence” is the unspoken desire of the audience. They are now ready; minds free, hearts open, spirits ready, the moment has come; the silence crescendos… and the curtain slowly ascends.

 A singular figure is revealed.

Nothing adorns her stage; no sets or lights, backdrops or props. The stage is naked. It offers no hope of distraction or place for surrender. Her only accompaniment comes from a single spot light that beams from above. It pierces the darkness and makes more apparent the starkness of the stage.

She stands alone.

She is exposed.

Motionless and without words, the silent introduction is made and she is exposed and vulnerable. In her vulnerability is beauty, for it is pure. It is raw. The power of her vulnerability pulls her audience; pulls them next to her.

Time stops.

The silence is momentary.

She moves.

 In her movement is every tear that she has ever shed and every smile ever had by her. Her greatest dreams and most tragic nightmares are offered to those that she has captivated. Her love, her pain, her soul and her very essence radiates throughout her world.

She is brilliant.

Her brethren are overwhelmed. Her brilliance pours over them and through them. Her tears flow from their eyes. Her smile caresses their lips. Her happiness lifts their hearts and her sadness moves them.

They now are exposed too.

 She cares not for what they think. Her performance is not compelled by their acceptance. It is drawn from her passion. Her passion can no longer be contained.

The moment is real. It is not contrived. The moment transcends performance. It is as real as the hearts that share it and the bond that it creates.