It's all changed.

No, it's evolving, which I guess is a good thing.
I feel as though it's too long - we need to cut down, and make it more concise. There's too much.. empty space.

I still hate the topic. We have no right..

I'm too .. tired to write anything remotely coherent, unfortunately.

Rehearsals are getting harder. I don't want to do this anymore. The others seem excited to provoke, unafraid of backlash - they want to push borders, ... but for what purpose? To what end goal? Just for the hell of it?

I don't understand them.

It's a painful topic, and they seem to be able to just gloss the surface of emotions, and I .. can't.
For many different reasons, I can't just detach myself from the performance - can't detach myself from the scene.

I mix, blend. I am the character, the character is me. We're angry, confused, scared. But I'm more emotionally involved than my character.
She wasn't named. A nameless stranger to the victim, a random person from society.
And yet, partially me.

I guess that's my fault as I wrote the lines for her - me - us.

But she is but a random stranger, not I. It's hard. Each time we're on stage frankly I want to cry. Scream and rage that we have no right to toy with such a topic, cry out in frustration and tears of torn and turbulent emotions raging through me I can no longer distinguish clearly into boxes. I'm so mixed up - I hate it. I hate the topic.

And yet that's not to say I hate our IPP - far from it. I think if we cut down the 1st part, add lighting, music, costumes, make-up and candles, we'll have something that's really quite powerful.
The text will need careful editing to make sure we're not crossing too many boundaries, and offending too many people .. but they seem to seek to provoke.

It makes me ill.
It's all a performance, something they know that society - the media rage - tells them to be all angry about and 'spread awareness' of the topic - but they're detached. They don't know. We don't know, understand. We have no right.
None

why? !

I mean, if done right I stand by my original stance, I think it'll be a great performance. . .

I just almost wish that i had no part in it.



Almost. 

More thoughts.. Costumes :)

So… I said I'd post thoughts on costumes and sound at a later date. Hopefully all these thoughts will come in handy when I get down to compiling my IPP.

We'll see.

So.. costumes. 

The costumes will be relatively simplistic, going with the goal of highlighting the fact that the performance - particularly the subject of the performance - has it's roots buried in reality. An ugly, but very real, reality. 

Ok, so let's take this character by character:

* The mother.

From what I can understand, the mother is an embodiment of the traditional Indian mother. She is not stuck in the middle ages, yet her beliefs and life center around her family, she is a stay-at-home mother who had great hopes for her daughter to have a better future than her own. She sticks to tradition, but is not rejecting modern ways. Therefore, she is dressed in a _____ (the female equivalent of a kurtah) ___, of all white. This sort of outfit is something still very much worn today by Indian women, even in large cities such as Bangalore (some of our teachers even come dressed so) - the present day clothing helps to situate the performance in the present, and the relevance of the message to today. While Indian women usually dress in bright, colorful combinations, the white is the color of mourning. For her, the daughter she raised died the day that she was raped - and she mourns her loss. 

Her hair is plaited back traditionally, but she does not have and flowers coiled into it to decorate herself - she has nothing to celebrate.

She wears only a couple gold bracelets and earrings to mark her wealth and status, but not everything she owns and not her most fancy jewelry.

In her area of the stage, the only things around her is a small three-legged stool, and a couple vases of flowers. The simple, wooden, three-legged stool is a visual representation of her attachment to the home and her humble origins, as well as housework and the kitchen. The flowers in vases around her, however, are gifts. Traditionally, after a death flowers are not brought to the funeral but sent to the family's home. This is to highlight the social death the victim suffered due to being raped as well. 

The flowers are not obnoxiously bright to underline once again the somber tone of the performance, and the vases are white - both to better reflect the stage lights and to merge with the white clothing theme of mourning. 

* The boyfriend.

The boyfriend is also Indian, but a more modern young man who is not so grounded in tradition as the mother. Therefore, he is dressed as many of the young men of the modern era - in jeans. Dark ones, to reflect his mood - and his Indian roots shine through the white hoodie as he too mourns. 
This combination of colors has two reasons: he is not completely dressed in white, because unlike the mother he is more grounded in reality and mourns not the loss of the woman's life, for she still lives, but rather the loss of the relationship they shared which he fears has been damaged beyond repair.
He wears no jewelry, holds no accessories, and has no props to play with. He is presented simply as a man - any man - who truly cares, without material incentives. He is presented as a tattered soul, hiding his hurt as he shields his face with the hoodie.

* The politician.

The politician happens to be played by a female actress. While this is, in my opinion, a positive development for it will sooth some of the incredibly machoistic and callus quotes that are being repeated to the audience as it's coming from a female, and hence it's taken as almost a given that we do not actually believe any of what is being repeated, and are merely citing examples. No woman in their right mind would be in agreement with many of those quotes.

The politician is very neutral. A black suit, white shirt. The standard penguin uniform that most workers and politicians live in throughout their career. It's the universal dress code, and hence is useful when embodying multiple different politicians through their words. The shirt is white for tradition, and also (in keeping with the cultural identification of the color white as relating to mourning) a subtle message that we are mourning the politicians callousness and words - a shirt covers the heart, after all. 
India is generally full of life and color - the black of the suit highlights a clear ignorance towards / disdain for the general people the politicians are supposed to represent.

The politician will stand by a podium, highlighting that the statements they made are rarely spur-of the moment expressions that ought to be glossed over as they were not completely thought through. It underlines the formality of the event, and all the preparation that goes into them. There will also hopefully be a microphone - pushing forward the extent to which their words are broadcasted and how far their voice/ statements can really carry - particularly in comparison to the plebeans, even those directly affected by the event. 

The politician remains standing, stiff, as though untouchable by emotions. 
Her hair is pulled back tightly, matching the professionalism of her persona.

* The objective observer - stranger. 

The stranger is a foreigner. A regular woman who's recently moved to India, and is confronted with a reality she is really ready to face. She wears western every day clothing, with appropriate coverage for her new environment. Jeans, a pale-blue t-shirt, and a loose black sweater. Her hair is tied in a careless knot, and she wears only simple chain pendant necklace.

The jeans are once again a reflection to the modern era - one that the audience will easily be able to identify with. The fact that both her and the boyfriend are both dressed in jeans draws a parallel between their ages, and helps to highlight the differences and similarities between their reactions and personal levels of involvement. 

The pale blue t-shirt is worn to underline that the stranger is also mourning the girl's fate, but is not vested enough personally to wear white. This supports the effort to demonstrate to the audience just how widely spread the affects of a single incident are. The black sweater shows the lack of personal involvement and the detachment of a stranger - no matter how much their hearts may mourn the girls fate (light-blue shirt), strangers are protected to a certain level by a shell - a layer of distance from the event - a black sweater.

The single necklace reflects the young woman's foreign origins as it is clearly unlike the style of any of the heavier, Indian jewelry.  

Her hair is pulled back in a careless knot showing that she's just an average Jo, and this is just a day like any other to her, with no particular event or reason to dress up. 

She is seated on a desk, no only to allow each of the characters to be on a different level, but also to suggest that she is in an environment she is clearly comfortable in. One only sits on tables when one is at ease. She also has several props - a couple of local papers (showing she's living in India), and an Economist or two - showing that she's getting news from a global perspective as well … demonstrating just how far reaching the repercussions are. 

All the characters are barefoot, if for no other reason than the practical one - less noise is made moving around if the actors on stage are barefoot. 


As for the victim... I need to think a little more.

Planning... And thoughts.

If i were directing, I would start it off with a scream, a desperate, horrified plea for mercy.
In the dark.
Then silence
Only then would the play beginAnd I would make everything shorter - more concise.

If I did stage management, I would place everyone on a different level, give each their space in which to maneuver and a separate, unique dynamic.

If I had written the script, I would do it so that very next person speaking begins with a repetition of the last person's phrase. I would add humor, patches of light in the almost unbreakable dark.

I'll tell you what I do have control of - the music, lights and costumes. But we don't have the resources nor the equipment. 
So I'm going to have to get creative.


The play, although one continuous flow, can be sub-divided into two parts. 
In the first, it's a series of interlinking monologues - addressed to the audience and to themselves. 
It's black. 
There are four white spots, each positioned directly above the actors, so the light pools in a ring around them, falling over their heads and shoulders, illuminating most of their features - though the patches of darkness and uncertainty are there, flickering in and out of existence as the actor moves. The patches of ambiguity shrouding the character, the very ambiguity that allows for the message situation to be generalized for most rape cases. 
When one moves and talks, their light is on. The others stand frozen, unmoving shadows in the darkness - silhouettes, invisible to the untrained eyes. This draws the audience's focus to the speaker, ensuring audience's undivided attention. The mind is drawn to what the eye can see, and the eye is drawn to the light. 
This section reaches a climax as characters begin to talk over each other, mounting the tension until all four are talking over one another, yelling at the audience, moving agitatedly around their pool of light. 
Here, the second portion of the play begins.
The victim steps on stage, and yells out "Shut up! All of you, just shut the hell up!" As soon as she begins to speak - the others are cut off, and freeze in place, still as statues. 
Simultaneously triggered by her words, white and red floodlights illuminate the stage from both stage left and right, the light reflecting off the characters from bellow all of a sudden now instead of from above. Smoke would begin to roll across the floor, mixing the red and white lights in eery twirls as the smoke obscures the characters feet. 
As soon as the victim continues talking, the spots slowly fade out of existence, as the red light glows increasingly stronger with the victim's anger. 
Now allow me to explain - these aren't just lights positioned at random thing, well, this should look cool (although I would have to agree, it will look cool) - the spots from above, in the first part, are positioned to cast no shadows to represent each character's self-focus during the play, how they are talking to themselves, and are aware of none others around them as they are lost in thought. The audience, through this, appears to be merely an extension of themselves that they are addressing. The lights are also positioned from above in order to highlight that the struggle for the characters has to do with matters of the mind, and hence of a mixture of logic, thoughts, and emotions. 
Later, when the light shines from bellow, this highlights the characters legs, and with that their ability to move - putting emphasis on the character's actions. The victim rages about their actions, derived from their minds and emotions, have affected themselves, others - and her. 
The light is white for a duel purpose - one, to provide clarity, in the sense that as their is not excessive lighting being used due to limited resources available for the production, and this way the audience will be able to see the stage better. White also creates sharp contrasts between what is visible and what is not, reflecting the generalizations that one can draw from the performance and is applicable to reality, and what pertains to the ambiguous, our intervention and personal performance, and hence is fictitious and the translation may be ambiguous. 
In India, white also represents mourning - hence it is appropriate for such a serious, depressing, tragic and very real subject matter. 
The fog is a symbol of the Victim's inner turmoil, the mix of red and white light flooding the curling smoke representing her pain, blood and hurt (red) from what has occurred, and the white light her desire to move on, and continue living. The constant battle and mingling of the two visually illustrates her emotional turmoil for the audience to gape at, and brush the complexity of her feelings, visually viewing the mess being raped has led her to become. The fog and lights roll across the stage, flooding the entire stage, in an attempt to demonstrate how the victim's turbulent emotions affect everyone around her. As the stranger and politician are seated/ standing in slightly elevated positions, less fog reaches them - less of her emotions affect them, though they do not merely remain unaffected. 

I'll post sound and costumes a little later. But yep, that's my plan :)

A couple notes..

They wanted to include an on stage rape scene

Rhean had a story to tell

It got violent and soap opera like, mixed with the horror and gore of a greek drama

Topic : rape

- prevalent in india today, very much a current issue.

I felt - still feel - out of depth

Now: 

Episodic presentation

Stanislavsky acting? 

Beauty lies in the simplicity

Lights play a large role

Freezing when not speaking

Music soft in the background - contrast to the violent and turbulent emotions permeating the stage - cuts when mooli comes

Costumes are simple - realistic, they reflect reality to demonstrate that this is very much based in reality

We all reworked our portion of the script

In fact, i started out co-writing it, and drew up the general outline

I also was involved with lighting, sets, costumes and sound (.. In hindsight, that's a lot - i was trying hard at the beginning not to play director, but if no one stepped up or would volunteer, of course i'd do it.) 

But the conclusion, what I was responsible for on the day of the final performance, was the acting. And hence that's what I'm sharing, as it was the only thing I retained control over to the very end - myself. 

Just keep going, don't give up yet...

The strange thing is that I almost feel as though we should stop trying so hard, because the beauty of the work will lie within the simplicity of its design. If we do it right, that is. 
I still don't feel that we have the right to play with such material, but presenting it in an episodic fashion, we ought to at least make an impression. The text is being written (I am not going to comment that it was supposed to be done on monday… grr…), and then each part re-written by the characters. 
*sigh*
So I have to write anyways. 

I've noticed something - a fault if you will. There are moments when I feel I could do everyone else's job, and do it better. 1) That's just not true. 2) I don't have the time, and it's not my role. 
But I must admit, sometimes I volunteer for more work because then I know I'm doing it, and it'll meet my standards. 
Ok, so perhaps I'm not the best follower - but I am trying. Really. 
And I'm trying not to comment too much as well… Really.

Relieved.

I feel strangely.. Relieved. 

I'm spoke up, and Jed's writing the script, so I'm just going to take a step back. This is one project, one play, that's all. I don't have to get so involved. Instead, focus on sound, music, lighting and / or? Costumes and props. I like to work with my hands, to make and sew things, painting stuff (much like just writing for the sake of it or reading a book, I find relaxing. 
Relieved is truly the right word I think. I was completely out of my depth, and I knew it, and at least I've finally said something :) this'll work better. As odd as it sounds, at times a team of one truly does work best. It's not simply a selfish notion, but just a fact. I'm too strong headed to share writing - and I don't even want to write it. So it's all good. 

So tired.

So tired.

A mother. A boyfriend. A victim. A stranger. A politician. Darkness.
Writing this script is starting to look like a very daunting process. And writing a script with someone else, like with all group work, can get complicated. Although we seem to be managing to balance for now, as we're friends and are both clearly trying to make sure to give as well as just take, it's a good thing that we generally seem to be thinking along the same lines. 
But I'm still uncomfortable with the topic. 
The proverb, " write what you know" is not just frivolous advice. I've made an outline - plot outline, if you will - during class, and gave that to Jed to ounce off of. Since it's his idea, it seems only fair he gets to write the first shot. I've just made general... Guidelines, perhaps? 
Frankly, I'm not even certain that I'd like to write this anymore - that's another reason I've encouraged Jed to do the first draft. I'm completely out of depth - and I know it. Sure, I can rework a script, edit and such, but what I think I really want to be working on are costumes, makeup, lighting, props and sound. Unfortunately, I think those aspects a are taken. 
I'm glad though - I've managed to secure a role that has as little to do with the actual rape. An objective observer - much like the position I hold in reality (well, would hold if we had a TV or I stayed up to date on events). 
We'll see what happens. It's frustrating to be able to picture the final image immaculately within the mind, yet find yourself unable to convey the entirety of the vision. And everyone's vision differs sightly, so none will come to pass, but rather a mix of a couple conveyed ideas mushed together. For better or worse, we have yet to see - and even then, it'll remain a matter of purely subjective opinion. 
Here's the outline of thoughts I've constructed so far.:
OUTLINE OF THOUGHTS

C – comparison to country, when first moved to India, didn’t believe it till you see itCan’t believe these stories come up so often, etc. so frequent, feels like I can’t open a newspaper or turn on the TV without another horror story jumping out at me – dreadful to read stuff like this
R – can’t believe this has happened, etc. setting the situation of vaguely how it happened, trying to calm down
J – cold denial, cold statements (2?)
C – look at what I’m reading, those politician statements, etc. don’t they realize how this would affect the families – everyone involved?!
J – really awful quote
R – give up on calming down - How am I going to tell my husband? He’s not home, worried – everything’s such a mess, why did this happen to me, why is this my fate? What on earth I have done to deserve this?
J – quote
Jed – She was so broken. Her body… (A bit of description?) I … I can’t … 
R – Karma, blame past life, (tears?) It’s a curse, such a tragedy – how can I move on? This is going to affect my whole life; my friends won’t talk to me – oh my poor daughter! Am I bad mother? 
C – I can’t imagine being in such a situation, that poor girl – to be brutalized like that (“quote”) *shudder*
Jed – When I found her…. I left her that night! Why did I leave her? Should have walked her home, all my fault! My sweet girl, I’m so sorry.
R – She’ll never get married, there were so many things she wanted to do – we had so many plans for her! Wanted to send her to the US – get a masters, become a modern woman (etc.)
Jess – quote 
Jed – She flinched when I came close, she wouldn’t let me hold her – she looked so broken, to see her like that – she was smart, lively, intelligent… Such a beautiful, cheerful woman you’ll never meet. Really, my __ was one of a kind… And I loved her. I really, really did. 
C – There’s really no shame in the media, is there? The details they put in these articles… What an invasion of privacy! 
R – at least there’s wide media coverage – then something will happen, people will do something! This won’t just be pushed under the rug and ignored
Jed – To be suffering like that, and have her story splashed over the news – to be reminded every moment she’d try to forget – she couldn’t catch a break, there was no escape. Her nightmare followed her around during the day, chasing her, never letting her heal…
R – Some things in life make such an impression you can’t remove them – you can’t just move on. What am I going to do (tears)?
Jed – And those men – no beasts – those pigs who did that… How could they? What on earth were they thinking? I for one would like to know what was going through their heads to think something like this was ok!
C – How are they punished? The guys involved, clearly not a severe enough retribution if this just keeps happening?
Jed – This country is so unsafe for women – blame anyone and everything – how can this happen? It ruined her – my girl is gone. She’s never done anything to deserve it *begin to rant louder and louder* Why her? Etc. I hate this country, etc. 
Jess – same time – statements, Etc. 
Rhean – Same time – oh my baby, my little girl, oh what has happened?!  Etc.
Coco – Same time – makes me sick, and I don’t even know them! To think that women are treated as objects, common whores to be used at a man’s disposal.. etc.

MOOLI – cut them off –  “SHUT UP! All of you, just SHUT THE HELL UP!”


Costumes
Rhean – white salvarr – wear jewelry
Jed – white hoodie and jeans, white top
Jess – bling bling bling – big phone, lots of gold, bling – black pants and a blazer
Coco – jeans and a sweater – normal clothes (casual) – nothing Indian 
Mooli – red. No jewelry – dressed in ….. ?

There are limits

I think it was simply all around a bad day.

I wanted to cry, I nearly did. I felt ill, and the group dynamics just weren’t the same as they’d been yesterday. There was – or at least, I felt as if there was – a push to do something provocative. A want to be provocative – just for the sake of being provocative. Just because we could.

And I disagree.

Frankly, I think that when dealing with extremely sensitive subjects such as rape, we have no right to dabble with the emotions of the audience, no real reason to want to create a ‘shock’.

To make them think, yes. But there’s no need for such a ‘shock’ factor of vulgarity to trigger such thought – it can be expanded in many different ways.

They want to raise awareness. Yet everyone knows.

Who do we think we are to be permitted – able – to dabble and play with situations that for some people are all too real and vivid nightmares? We live incredibly sheltered, lucky lives – we have no right to make a mockery of such a serious situation.
And a mockery we would make of it – we’d come across as ignorant, stupid children playing with something they do not understand. The complexities of such situations, reading about them, and the emotional impact can only be glimpsed. But we cannot portray it in full. I cannot.

You see, when an actor plays a character far out of their depth, what do they rely on? The script. Trusting that the author knew their topic. (One of the most common threads of advice given to a writer is write what you know.) Yet we’re writing the script – I am, with Jed.

I can’t do that right. I won’t do the subject justice.

And I know I’m not a good enough actress to act it out either.

I’m frustrated, tired. I think everyone is really. The entire IPP is becoming dark and morbid without respite, and just talking about it I feel my innards twisting and clenching in sadness – for the characters story and the image portrayed of humanity.

There’s so much more to life than just death – why is it so hard to put that across?

It’s as horrid and twisted as an Ancient Greek Tragedy – or something Maupassant would have written.

I am not against a dark play – not at all. Done well, they leave a deeper message, and scenes of pain and grief are easier to act because – as Jed put it – pain, grief, sadness ad death are universal. But to have sad, you must have happy first. Sad to sad through sad doesn’t make the same impression as happy to sad with happy and sad moments intermixed. That’s more realistic – the good and the bad. To end in a tragedy a life that you can identify and draw some parallels with on this most basic level of good and bad moments will have more of an impact than a constantly dark situation – the audience will get bored, and think what an awful situation, but no one’s life is a constant dark.

Some people think of theater as having no limits – a place where you can do whatever you want. Yet to me, the actor and particularly director and playwright have only gained the right to be doubly careful what they portray. Yes, they are allowed to push boundaries – but only for a reason.
And there are certain things at are age that we are not yet equipped to face and deal with. We don’t have the experience or the expertise required. There are limits, and certain aspects we have neither right nor capabilities to properly address.  

IPP

I needed a night to sleep on it. “It” here refers to our muddled plan that’s starting to come together for the independent project proposal.

We’re doing it as a group of five – we know each other by now, and it’ll be fun to do this as a group.

I’m really excited about this – so many opportunities!

I’m not directing (I have to share, so I’ll just try to be extra supportive and make sure I don’t give too many opinions… may be tricky, but it’ll be good to learn to just shut up as well). I’m not even stage-managing.

I am, however, getting to write this thing with Jed! Yes!

Always wanted to write a play (although, I wanted to direct it as well – can’t get everything in life :p).

If I got to choose, I’d do it centered on time, death, truth and concepts of dreams and nightmares. Could be really weird and creepy – but also has a lot of potential to be really fascinating and interesting. Or perhaps (if we had to do social issues – which in my opinion are overdone and no longer really make a statement) on something we can relate to – I don’t know, family issues or breaking away? That transition period we’re all sort of going through right now, getting ready to leave, start out on our own.

Meh, don’t know really. Endless possibilities – anything could work!

Anyways, back on to the project we’re currently working on… it’s so exciting! Everyone’s so enthusiastic and it’s all going to work out, I just know it!

They seem to be getting a little to involved in the storyline and away from the content (getting a bit soap opera – ish and a little dark – like a Sophocles soap opera? I don’t know. But dark, and stuff, but oh well. Lots of character drama.

It’ll be interesting to see where this goes – and I get to do costumes!!!!!!!! Oh yea!! :D To be able to sculpt the visual aspects of the performance to my taste, yay! I get an excuse to improve my sewing skills – and hopefully I’ll even maybe get to work a bit on the sets! :D

Genuinely excited about a school project – what had the world come to? J

Verbatim Theater

Verbatim Theater - embodying another person and telling their story as them.

I opened my mouth, and my mind went blank. I mean, really, blank. I couldn't remember a thing. 
We were standing opposite each other, and she was telling a story. Something about food. I was watching her. Her hand movements, the way she gestured with her arms emphatically in certain places, the tone of her voice, and at which moments she got excited. She used her hands a lot, her head was never quite straight. "Repeat her story." I turned around, my mind went blank. My cheeks flushed. I was embarrassed. The others had all managed this without a hitch. I couldn't remember a thing. The others stared, incredulous. Perhaps I'd focused too much on her movements and not enough on her words?We did it again - for me. I was flustered, embarrassed. I tried to focus on her story - she talked about foods I'd never heard of. I could do this. "Repeat her story."I tried again. I faltered. My mind went blank. I wanted to sink into the floor and disappear. I don't know why I couldn't do it. Eventually they gave up on me, and it was my turn to tell her a story, but I was so upset I couldn't even think of anything proper to say. It was patchy and dumb - something about being selfish about popcorn. Stupid. 
I love our group - they didn't make fun of me, or laugh at me. They just kept going, told me it was ok. I couldn't tell anyone's story, and barely managed to stumble through my own. Yet these are not strangers - the exercise ought be easy - we know each other. He rubs the back of his neck when he's feeling awkward, she talks really quickly and with a lot of emotion, and she uses large gestures to accompany her words. 
I don't know why I can't do this.

A sock

A sock.

Soft, elastic, stretchy. In movement, stretching laterally with each footstep as it is squished into the ground. Victim of fate, always moving forwards- a fixed center, a second skin to the foot.

As the music thrummed and swayed, a feeling of peace - acceptance - dripped from the melody. "Walk". We began to move. Become the sock... Now there's a really odd thought. I was self-concious; I felt dumb swaying/staggering around the room as the others walked at various paces. If I left myself slip, I wanted to dance. But we were in theater class. I was just a sock. Not a dancer. "Move faster.""Expand the movement!"The music made me feel like moving in an almost dance-like pattern, as the sock stretched and tightened with every step, tossed around by the winds of fate with no hands to take the reins. I still felt self-conscious, and had to be careful not to move to quickly because of my skirt (note to self: always wear pants to drama - I ought to know that by now!)."Faster!""Bigger!"I no longer had time to observe the others. I started to let go a little, moving to the music as it felt right, still struggling really hard to be a sock. Stretching, tightening. I fell into a pattern, then tried to break it."Talk!"And say what? For whatever reason, short of breath and still moving, I began to mumble the phrases, 'Just keep moving' and 'Everything's going to be ok'. Perhaps I could claim those were developed through the threads of the sock being tossed and thrown around life by factors beyond it's control, living one step at a time. More likely though were the words drawn from the movement and my own subconscious mind-frame. "Faster!""Louder!"I forgot to be self-concious, and I began to slip into the dance, my movements more fluid and open than before. It came to a point where I honestly wasn't thinking of anything in particular other than the word "sock", "sock", "sock" repeatedly within my head; just feeling the movement and hearing the music as I exhaled the phrases. The music stopped. Well, what a strange exercise... and why on earth did I pick a sock? I became once again hyper-aware of the others in the room again, though I have not a clue how whatever I was doing measured up against their movements. The line between dance and theater, just as between theater and literature, I seem unable to properly distinguish. Yet if I'm moving to the music, when have I lost the exercise and am simply dancing? What is the distinction between dance and theater?