Nino Cipri’s story this week will wind its way into your thespian souls. ~ Julian and Fran, July 16, 2023 Ain’t Houses, Ain’t Names” by Nino Cipri Lynn is lucky to be in the spring play at all, since as far as Mrs. Velasco or anyone knows, she didn’t show up for auditions.
“She feels an urge she hasn’t felt since she was a kid: to keep looking, keep walking, keep climbing up the tree even as the branches get thinner and the wind grows sharper. She walks past a small fleet of kids’ bikes, can’t keep from combing her fingers through the streamers attached to the handlebars.”
I felt transported! Love the prop closet as this almost magical portal between the present and the future -- dusty and piled high with relics and forever going on.
“She feels an urge she hasn’t felt since she was a kid: to keep looking, keep walking, keep climbing up the tree even as the branches get thinner and the wind grows sharper. She walks past a small fleet of kids’ bikes, can’t keep from combing her fingers through the streamers attached to the handlebars.”
I felt transported! Love the prop closet as this almost magical portal between the present and the future -- dusty and piled high with relics and forever going on.
Fascinating!
And now I have to go and look up 'Our Town'!
Love it -- the magic of theater