|
Post by KitClairvoyance on Oct 8, 2008 11:00:19 GMT -5
There is a ritual to a circus performance, a rehearsed dance that takes place in the ring over and over again, but is never the same twice. The best performances are truly unique because they never end, they only take place once and follow you through life.
It was raining, the night of the performance. The audience was packed in tightly, threatening to spill into the ring. It was the lions that kept them out. The lion tamer was from a visiting troupe, the lions were ours, but they knew the subtle magic of a tamer's hand. Our own tamer used to tell us about how he spent three months in the wilds of Africa, living, eating, sleeping with lions. It was his ritual, his performance. Rumour had it that he even had a half-lion child, that every tamer has one. Rumour would tell you anything.
It was a night of fireworks and fireflies, and the crowd craved for more. Each performance was met with thunderous applause, loud enough that I thought the whole tent would collapse. And even then, that would not have dampened their spirits. Nothing could have dampened their spirits.
The ring was alive with the beat of a dozen pairs of feet as the dancers and acrobats took to it. The crowd lifted us up with their cheering. I soared high that night, the trapeze bars alive with the excitement of the crowd. I didn't want the night to end, and perhaps when I wished that the winds changed, because it never did.
When I bowed off the ring, I passed her. The canary. I had seen her during rehearsals, but live performance is what brings out a performer's spirit. It was her performance that held time indefinitely. I know because my pocketwatch stopped then, and has never ticked since, no matter how tight I wind it. It froze at 10:23, the night she took the ring.
|
|
|
Post by ianervan on Oct 9, 2008 3:17:30 GMT -5
I checked my dress for one last time. I adjusted it to which way it felt comfortable before walking toward the ring. Two other girls accompanied me with their string instruments. It was my first time with instruments accompanying my voice. They were from the local troupe. Our group had been traveling from one place to another, stopping only for a day or two to perform. Our crowd was never this big.
I peeked out from the flap at the audiences which they were seated comfortably around the ring. The numbers was way off what I had expected. I thought there would be more but not this much! My heart started to beat faster. I took in deep breath and tried to slow down my breathing to calm myself. If I would lose my nerves now, my performance would be ruined. I heard the crowd cheering and clapping. I peeked out from the flap again and saw a few acrobats did a few daredevil stunts.
A hand gripped my shoulder out of the sudden startling me. I turned around to see one of the girls who would be accompanying me. She was trying to calm me down. She smiled sweetly at me as if to comfort me. I replied with a grin. Then, the crowd cheered again, louder than before. They were whistling and clapping. It seemed that the acrobats did gain a grand applause from the audience. I knew it then, it was my turn next and it was now as the acrobats bowed before the ever cheering crowd.
I backed away to make room for the acrobats to come through the flap. Their expression was filled with joy and satisfaction. After seeing their faces, my heart started to calm down and my confidence returned. For the last time, I checked my dress. It was my finest dress in my wardrobe and I did not want to look silly in it. The other two girls held the flap for me as I took my steps into the ring. They followed closely behind and stopped a few feet behind me as I continued to the center.
The noise started to die away as the crowd noticed my presence. I looked at them, trying to gaze into the eyes as many as I could. Before this, I could look at them each in the eyes but this time, I just glanced through the faces of the crowd. It was my style before each performance as if to charm my audiences. Then, there was total silence. The crowd was waiting with anticipation.
The girls played the first note. It was long and monotone. When they reached the resonance, the note was registered in my deepest senses. It would be the first note when I start to sing. Then, they started a prelude, a slow song of harmony. The purpose was to move the hearts of the crowd as a warm up. Then, they halted.
As the last note faded out, I took a deep breath and sang. It was a song about a canary in a cage, how it longed to spread its wings to its full length and soared to the sky. Behind this song I composed was my feeling of longing. I was longing to free myself from that old life. I wanted to change, I wanted everyone to hear my song. As I get into the climax, the girls started playing again, adding harmony to my song, drifting the crowds into endless dream of longing for freedom.
Thus, it was over. The girls played their final notes as the conclusion of my song. Then, there was a long silence. The crowd seemed looked at each other and blinked. My breathing was heavy as I was exhausted from my singing. I had to sing louder than before for this large crowd and it had taken a lot of effort. Without the rehearsal and practice, I doubted I could make it through the whole song. Then, there was a clap. Slowly, like waves, the crowd cheered and whistled. A smile touched my face. It was not only satisfaction I felt. It was more, it was many things more. More that I could put into words. I curtsied before the crowd and made my way back through the flaps.
|
|
|
Post by KitClairvoyance on Oct 11, 2008 4:38:32 GMT -5
The silence that followed her performance was when the magic happened. Silence is an odd substance. It is thick, but can easily be stretched. It fills your lungs, and is sticky, clinging to your arms, fingers, ears. Silence tenses with each movement, each heartbeat, its brittle structure threatening to shatter the longer it hangs. It is a living creature, born from our anticipation, fear, and awe.
And then came the applause. Like the rain, it came in a drizzle at first, and the drizzle sparked the relentless outpouring of admiration. Even the performers placed their hands in congratulations; they knew that this was it, the true performance that you wait a lifetime for. No other performance tonight would be able to surpass the canary; no, I lie. No other performer would want to.
I caught her eye as she came back through the flap, but I dared not approach her that night.
Lying awake in bed, I heard her song again. Gustav, our resident strong-man must have heard it too, because I could hear him humming it silently through his thick mustache next to me. When I finally fell asleep, it was to a flock of canaries.
It was intoxicating.
I've never had opium. Some of the other performers swore by it, but my mother had the sense to stay me from it by principle. She said it ruined the mind. But that night, my dreams could very well have been induced by it; a mix of yellow feathers and twisted score notations. Enticing.
If I died in my sleep, would anyone notice?
Sunrise washed away my dreams, and I was soon hauled out to help with the packing of the tent. The visiting troupe would be moving away again soon, and it would be back to normal. As I bundled the trapeze equipment away, she passed me. Stuffing my bundle into the trunk, I chased after her and tapped her on the shoulder.
"Hey," I called, hoping she'd notice.
|
|
|
Post by ianervan on Oct 12, 2008 2:44:52 GMT -5
I exchanged pleasantries with many of my troupe mates after the show. Many were as amazing as any show that night. None of us expected it would be this grand. I cramped into a tent with a few ladies that night. We talked about the show until one girl brought up a topic on the guys. She was engrossed into that topic. Well, our troupe consisted mainly on dancers and singers and there were hardly any man to flirt with. We just laughed along as she suggested that we creep into one of the tents and sleep with one tonight.
I fell asleep first that night. The girls continued with their jokes till it was very late. Few others return to their tent and a few remained as they were too tired to walk back.
The following morning, the camp was buzzing with activities. Though it was pretty early and mostly slept late last night, these people were full of spirit. I woke up when I heard a few people shouting incoherently some distance away. It seemed that they were still drunk and probably stayed up all night.
I was combing my hair when I heard a call from my mate. She said we were leaving today at noon. I shrugged at her in reply before she left. Honestly, I hoped we could stay longer. I liked the girls who accompanied me last night. They played well for me and without them my song simply would not be as fascinating as it was last night. I thanked them well after we left the ring.
I bent over toward the mirror to look more closely at my face. My emerald eyes stared back at me from my reflection. My cheeks were getting slightly rounder. I supposed I should cut down on food now. I took out a fresh dress from my wardrobe and put it on. It was light blue with laces around the neck and at the end of the sleeves.
I decided to take a walk around the camp when a few men came over to my tent to disassemble it. I was heading over to my troupe leader's tent when someone tapped my shoulder. I turned around to see a man. I recognized him from last night's show, though I could not remember which part of the performance he was in.
"Hello," I greeted.
|
|
|
Post by KitClairvoyance on Oct 12, 2008 7:27:57 GMT -5
Her voice was unexpectedly normal, it was light and sweet, but lacked the richness that had filled my senses that night. No, it wasn't her voice that was lacking, it was the absence of the ritualistic power of the ring.
Behind her, the tents of the visiting troupe were being brought down unceremoniously. I had wondered the night before what it was like, to never stay in one place any longer than a month. My own experiences had never left the outskirts of my little town, and everything I knew of the world came in the form of stories and rumor.
"Must you leave? The people of this town will soon be talking about your performance."
Perhaps that was why they moved so frequently. There is a romance in the temporary that can't be found elsewhere. That's why the most lasting things in life only exist for a moment. We wouldn't hold on to them as tightly otherwise.
Although I knew that her departure wasn't for her to decide, I couldn't help but try to catch hold of the temporary.
"The markets will be open today," I suggested hopefully, "perhaps at least you could spend the rest of the afternoon in town with me."
|
|
|
Post by ianervan on Oct 13, 2008 5:11:02 GMT -5
I looked at the guy that just came up to me. He asked me to go with him. I covered my mouth and giggled. In all my life, I have met these many people. This guy is just simply one of them or so at first I thought. I would not mind going with him to the town but we were leaving at noon after all. I thought of just simply reject his offer but then again, there were so little time for me to take a break in between. Our troupe was always on the move never staying in one place for long.
Then, behind him, I saw Mistress Selina left her tent with some men. She saw me and exchanged words with the men. They nodded to each other and started walking toward me.
"At least you could have introduced yourself first," I said smiling.
My eyes darted back to Mistress Selina who was leading the group of men. They had papers in their hands and seem somewhat in a tight conversation with her. I had seen these people before. They were from a big group which I could not remember which. I auditioned for them when I started singing hoping I could join them. Doubtlessly, I failed to meet their requirements. Weeks, later, I met with Mistress Selina and she decided to let me join her troupe. They were probably here for me.
"I'm Felicia," I said.
First thing that came into my mind when I saw them was to get away from them. They had come to visit a few times before but Mistress Selina turned down their offer. This time however, time Mistress Selina seemed pretty satisfied, otherwise she would not be having such conversation with them at all.
"If you still intent to take me down town, I suggest you do so now," I said as the men got closer. "Those men are here for me and from the way things looked, they won't let me go once they got me. Nasty," I added and held out a hand for him.
|
|
|
Post by KitClairvoyance on Oct 17, 2008 10:19:55 GMT -5
Behind the flaps of the big-top, paper runs everything. It's the anchor that keeps the dreams performing night after night, the only reason none of us have left the ring. In part, it's why our art still exists; but it also will be our ruin. On paper, you are reduced to a mere commodity, to be bought, sold and haggled over. But she, she was not a mere commodity, I could tell; and that is why I had no regrets about the day I took her hand.
A trapeze artist knows many routes and escapes that can't be seen. We don't see our world in terms of obstacles, but the endless merging of paths and trajectories. As we took gracefully to the dirt path, Gustav nodded knowingly towards me before accidentally dropping his weights onto the gates behind us.
Accidents always happen for a reason.
I didn't say anything, leading her towards our small town. The markets were in full bloom, lavish with all colours of fresh produce. Most faces were familiar to me, nodding to greet us as we passed; a more knowledgeable few recognised the girl by my side as well.
"They know you now," I finally said, "the townspeople." A silent moment passed between us before I spoke again, a little more hopefully. "Will you stay now?"
|
|