It was sad and yet I felt it was too easy to walk away.... slightly charmed but uninspired. Was it me? Was it him?
Maybe I made him nervous.. But isn't everyone nervous a tad before getting on stage? I sometimes feel absolutely ILL.
How did he translate before my eyes? Imagine a photographer having a beautiful subject pose... but the subject had no poise. Imagine a dance but the music couldn't be decided upon. Imagine a painting, finished but not framed.
I took many "pictures" and each moment seemed to be nuanced by shades of color that surprised me. Ambition colored with cynicism. Visions of wealth and success jaded by a disdain for people who are wealthy and successful. And I wondered if he was listening to himself... how "generous" he was with sharing his uncertainties... how stingy he was with celebrating his dreams.
The stage is cleared again... I learned lessons on this particularly cold stage... people are fascinating... delicate ... strong...
I want to see beyond the headshot.
JNET
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