Sunday, February 24, 2013

All The World's But a Stage ...

 photo normal_001-1_zps26596154.jpg
via Costumer's Guide Library
[Love this photo ... Pretty much sums up my relationship w/Ken. We seem to be out of time with one another spiritually speaking
--w.r.t. soul experience-- but we fell in love with each other long ago, nonetheless.  Time will tell if our love can stand the test of time? ]

"All the world’s a stage" … How often, glancing through the chronicles of time, do we not see the same stories played out again and yet again? The same stories of love, triumphs and losses, played out with different costumes, different actors and the semblance of an accepted set of rules for a given period in time … but the heart knows no rules? I have to wonder does the script choose actor or the actor the script? I’d like to think that if we can hold onto that which we are born into this world with—the only thing we perhaps rightfully own—that the material then becomes immaterial.

All the world's a stage,
And all the men and women merely players;
They have their exits and their entrances,
And one man in his time plays many parts,
His acts being seven ages. At first, the infant,
Mewling and puking in the nurse's arms.
Then the whining schoolboy, with his satchel
And shining morning face, creeping like snail
Unwillingly to school. And then the lover,
Sighing like furnace, with a woeful ballad
Made to his mistress' eyebrow. Then a soldier,
Full of strange oaths and bearded like the pard,
Jealous in honor, sudden and quick in quarrel,
Seeking the bubble reputation
Even in the cannon's mouth. And then the justice,
In fair round belly with good capon lined,
With eyes severe and beard of formal cut,
Full of wise saws and modern instances;
And so he plays his part. The sixth age shifts
Into the lean and slippered pantaloon,
With spectacles on nose and pouch on side;
His youthful hose, well saved, a world too wide
For his shrunk shank, and his big manly voice,
Turning again toward childish treble, pipes
And whistles in his sound. Last scene of all,
That ends this strange eventful history,
Is second childishness and mere oblivion,
Sans teeth, sans eyes, sans taste, sans everything.”

~William Shakespeare, As You Like It, Act II, Scene VII [All the world's a stage]

But oh how this world will try ever so desperately to take this most precious possession from you ….

It would seem, I have a lot writing to do?

P.S. Wrote this early in the morning (early for others ... late at night/not having slept for me)after watching "Anna Karenina" ... Had forgotten that the Oscar's were to be this day.  So my post here fits rather nicely for the day? I have a lot of movies to watch ... I did happen to see the movie "Argo", yesterday, at least.  Great movie!  And "Anna Karenina" won for best costume design, so I guess I chose well : ) 

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