The 'Scottish' Play

I'm sorry to admit it, but I had never seen "Macbeth" performed.

When Chris said let's go see Macbeth last Thursday I jumped at the chance.

As we drove out a long,dark and winding road, I asked about the production company putting it on.

"'William Head on Stage' is putting it on. It's a bunch of convicts at a Federal Penitentiary."

"We're on our way to a prison!?"

"Yup."

This was...something I had never done before!

When we arrived we were informed that we were to have nothing on our person at entry. No money or personal effects; nothing but the tickets to get in with.

Rather unnerving.

Once we made it through the security measures, a small group of us were lead outside to a waiting van.
Piling in, we were driven about the grounds to where the play was being presented. Past the beach, past the individual cottages and the rolling green hills, we stopped at last across from the craft building and went into the gym.

The inmates had been busy!

Upon entering the large room you could see it had been separated into two distinct rooms, one room was made up of a bleak gray looking stage and the remainder of the space being turned into a bazaar of sorts.

Many woodcrafts and other bits of art were displayed for viewing and purchasing (though there was some puzzled looks by the patrons...none of us had any money with which to purchase), it was quickly explained that if you saw a piece that appealed to you, it would be set aside and one of the guards would see to the collecting of monies.
As one of the inmates explained with a laugh, "They don't like us to have the credit cards."

The lights flickered. Time for the first act to unfold.

Dressed in an interesting combination of kilts and army fatigues, the men put on a driven performance.
The four women who were brought in from outside (all of whom are professional actors themselves) to perform as the witches and Lady Macbeth held their own.

Macbeth himself you could easily imagine dressed in leathers astride a large motorcycle and looking menacing.
His performance, while a little on the rushed side, portrayed an angry and confused Macbeth instead of a pushed and prodded one.
Lady Macbeth was fabulous, but then, she was a trained actor. The vicious and gleeful delivery of her lines plotting Duncan's death by her husbands hand was wonderful and alarming to watch.

I could go on and on about it. It was that good.
It was a surprise, too.

One doesn't imagine a group of convicts even wanting to take part in a play, let alone a play so challenging.
In fact, the director Ian Case (himself a convict) noted, "We would be dealing with difficult language, complex emotions and difficult situations-all with a cast who for the most part had never read Shakespeare and never acted before."
He added, "It is a serious look at the consequences of our decisions, both bad and good. That, for me, is what makes this play especially poignant and important to do in this environment."

And it wasn't just that the play was good, there was an unusual element behind it.
I think it was the feeling that perhaps giving people something good and productive to do with a positive result might mean something in the long run.

It would be naive to suggest that doing a few plays in prison can turn someones life around, but you just never know.

Oh, and the broadswords they were swinging around were pretty impressive, too.

In the news today.

First of all: THANK YOU ALL so very much for all your e-mails and concerns regarding the MIA status of my blog.
It just flabbergasts me that so many fine and funny and far more articulate writers are so interested in my relatively pedestrian life.
Really.
Thank you.

(oh, and Mom says 'Hi!')

Next of all: My move went splendidly well.
The movers I hired were courteous and efficient.
My dear friends Spider Girl and Jeff and Danny helped immensely with packing and encouragement.
Saturday after the move was one of the best Saturdays a girl could ask for.
A spa treatment and dinner and the Opera...a divine day after a very loooong one.

Third in the list and completely unrelated: a query.
It's come to my attention that a teacher recently convicted of sexual assault has been sent to exile in Canada.

Pardon me, what?

Exile?

"You are going to Canada in exile for your crimes." Says the Judge.

You must be joking.

Right??

Are we America's own Australia suddenly!?

(No offense to Australia of course.
I merely refer to the transportation of criminals from English shores to Botany Bay in an historical sort of fashion.
This is only to compare with the sudden American shipping of their criminals over the border to Canada in an ironic sense.

I'm sure all modern Australians are fine and upstanding individuals!

Not at all related in any tangible way to England's dark and criminal past.

I've never been to Australia of course.

But I'm pretty sure I'll meet some lovely good people there.

If I go.

Ahem.)

Anyway.

My point.

I LIKE living in Canada.

Bloody Hell!!
Don't send your convicted anything up here, thanks very much!

Fourth and very important:
Blackcrag?

You are right, of course.

Moving doesn't get you anywhere.

It is what's inside that moves you.

SO!

That's all the news that's fit to print.
From Victoria, British Columbia,
Signing Out,

~TAI~

8 long and seriously disturbing days.

At last AT LAST!!

My blog has made a miraculous reappearance!
After over a week of waiting and wondering, it has returned!

I thought for sure it was lost and gone forever, but no, it seems it merely went on a temporary hiatus unbeknownst to me.

So we're back baby, and just in time for my 2 year blogiversary which is coming up on the 27th of this month.

Two whole years I've been at this!

Thanks to everyone who has sidled up 'longside and taken a look into my world (and said 'hi' to my mom...she loves that!)

It still amazes me that kind people all over the world have stopped by and wondered what I was up too.
People have taken my book recommendations to heart (G'Night Girl!) and seemed to have found my posts interesting and funny (I presume it was more than just my spelling that amused you!).

So just know that even when it appears that I've abandoned 'post' I haven't...I'm still here, blogging away in my head.

And I'm still visting all of you enchanting bloggers.

Cheers and thanks...all of you make it a great place to be.

Book recommendation comin' right up.

Oh, those poor orphans!

What a great series; Lemony Snicket's tales of the Baudelaire children is wonderfully dark and dangerous.

Quick, run out and buy "Lemony Snicket's Series of Unfortunate Events: The Bad Beginning", the first in the series.

Sit alone in a dark house and read it all the way through.
Cuddle up on a couch with a small candle burning in the background for effect and dive in.

It'll only take an hour and a half (or less) and two cups of tea and you'll be a fan, too!

The writing style and pictures put in my mind of Edward Gorey.
Now there's another author who you should acquaint yourself with if creepy crawly tales about tots amuses you.

It's not THAT ugly!

It's funny.

I'm moving and I have furniture that I don't want any longer.
Quite a bit of furniture, in fact.
There's a couch and a love seat, a big comfy chair, a coffee table and an end table.

I won't say that it's beautiful furniture.
Actually, it's old and drab and really rather plain.
But it IS comfortable and serviceable, of that there is no doubt.

Anyway.
I wanted to give this dull but serviceable furniture away to a charity.

My first thought was to donate it to a women's shelter.

Women's shelters sometimes try to set women up in their own places to establish a safe residence away from the abusive partner.
I thought furniture (despite being unattractive) would be very helpful.
Well received, even.

"Hi. I have some furniture I'd like to donate."
"How much do you have?"
"A complete living room set and a dining table if required."
"No. Thanks."
"NO?"
"Yeah. We don't have room for it."

Hmmm. All right.
Next stop; "The Covenant House" for troubled/runaway youth here in Vancouver.

"Want some furniture?"
"No."
"Oh. I see."

Big Brothers might want it I speculated to myself, doubtfully.

"Furniture donation?"
"Is it re-saleable?"
"Probably."
"Nah."

Salvation Army will DEFINATELY take it, I thought.

"Couch?"
"Can you sit in your apartment for 9 hours on a Tuesday waiting for us to MAYBE take it depending on if we decide it would be worth it or not?"
"Umm...no."
"Then forget it."

So. At last.

""Trash to The Curb". We haul everything except dead bodies." *
"Will $70 dollars rid me of this blight I used to call my living room furniture?"
"Sure. We'll be there whenever you want us."
"Oh THANK YOU!"

Moral of the story?

Money talks and charitable inclinations are sadly laughable.
And that really bothers me.




*I changed the name of the company, but that really is their motto! I'll be hiring THEM again!
But what to do with the bodies remains (teehee!) a problem.

To say nothing of the robot and Ninjas!

I just had had HAD! to post this for everyone's viewing enjoyment.

If you were required to read "To Kill a Mockingbird" in school I believe you'll REALLY enjoy this new and improved version.
You need lots of pirates and they need flaming sharks and dinosaurs; yes, it's HOW to Kill a Mockingbird.

You're right Kimber it's HARD CORE, YAAAH!!!