Theatre Monologue

Throughout my life, escape has come in my different forms. Less so in the form of a place, but rather in a mindset and activity that I found wholly my own, without care for the other people that shared my space who often did not view the activity in the same freeing way that I did. Though today, escape does hold somewhat more a literal place in my life, any prosimian arch I can find my way under, at a young age escape existed wholly as a concept that was only accessible to me through performance and practice.
As a child, from the tender young age of three, performing was, and remains to this day, a large part of my life. My current passion for theatre was born from my passion for dance, at its highest intensity between the ages of 3 to 13,

And though I didn’t realise it at the time, such escape, from my brothers and my parents, was only possible because of my parents and the opportunities they offered me. Though I most strongly recall my mother’s presence when I reflect on my youngest years at dance, logic and some scattered memories tell me that my father had just as much of a hand in my dance. Did I purposely dismiss those memories to allow me a more easily categorized view of my parents? My mother, the woman that allowed me the freedom of dance, and my father that allowed me the freedom of build and fixing and making. Was it intentional? I suppose I’ll never know. Regardless, dance was my freedom and no form of freedom, in the history of the world, comes without repercussions. In this case, repercussions came in the form of aggressive and cruel classmates, whose rudeness and self-perceived sense of superiority was inflicted on me at every opportunity. Fed by their mothers living vicariously through them, the girls in my dance classes often found it suitable to treat me as lesser due to their perception of my ability; regardless of the fact that the

My mother assisted me in finding a drama school that has since grown to become a similar opportunity of escape as dance previously offered, and linked me to my favourite place of escape, through promising me several stage opportunities a year. The few years between these two opportunities of performance was definitely one that holds a distinct memory of being trapped, despite liking my life (a side effect of my desperation for self expression free of expectation, as the stage offered me, for only within the frameworks of performance could all sides of me be accepted and applauded rather than ridiculed). However, this period of my life ending as soon as I participated in my first class with Masquerade Talent Studios, a five dollar trial class that offered me an insight into the everyday, or rather every week, experience of a class with the company. I have a very particular memory of the first time I walked into the studio, standing idly in the office as the owner, Carmen promised to find me someone to show me around and disappeared down the long hallway that I presumed lead to the rehearsal studios themselves,