I’ve always worn my heart on my sleeve. I’m absolutely crap at hiding my feelings. Dad described this as the storm clouds gathering but he kindly qualified this by acknowledging that the sun would quickly shine again. So as the year draws to a close (well in 40 minutes to be exact) I hope that I can live with this version of myself in 2019 and ‘be’ rather than function in some well-behaved role, portraying a carefully edited life to those around me.
I knew early on in life that acting was not my gig. It’s hard to get excited about being cast (no pun intended) as a sheep in the Christmas nativity play, crawling on all fours up the centre aisle between the pews with the sheep-skin rug from our lounge tethered to my back. If this was not bad enough, there was singing involved and to make matters worse still, this had to be delivered in sheep-like vibrato,
It would be easy to assume that my next starring role was looking up and travelling in the right direction. At least being a Wise man was bipedal. It is at this point that I need to declare another character flaw…a susceptibility to uncontrollable fits of giggles as a manifestation of performance anxiety. And what was the cause of such angst? Wearing borrowed silk pyjamas with sweat-stained armpits and delivering this clanger in melodic synchrony with my ever suffering younger sister.*
In my teenage years I played a forlorn workhouse boy and low-life ruffian in Oliver!, a background role worth the waiting for.
And from humble beginnings playing a ruminant mammal I ended my acting career on a high as a Shepherdess on the Delectable Mountains pointing Pilgrim to the Celestial City of Gold. No bloomer bloopers thankfully!
I am content to leave my brief dramatic experiences in the past but cannot promise clement weather in the future. Bring an umbrella 😃
*Don’t ask her about the piano duet.
I knew early on in life that acting was not my gig. It’s hard to get excited about being cast (no pun intended) as a sheep in the Christmas nativity play, crawling on all fours up the centre aisle between the pews with the sheep-skin rug from our lounge tethered to my back. If this was not bad enough, there was singing involved and to make matters worse still, this had to be delivered in sheep-like vibrato,
“We’re shivering sheep and we daren’t go to sleep …”If there was one impromptu acting moment, however, it was the deathly glance directed towards my gloating older sister sitting in the pulpit behind the palm fronds, looking serene in blue and white as the highly-favoured one.
It would be easy to assume that my next starring role was looking up and travelling in the right direction. At least being a Wise man was bipedal. It is at this point that I need to declare another character flaw…a susceptibility to uncontrollable fits of giggles as a manifestation of performance anxiety. And what was the cause of such angst? Wearing borrowed silk pyjamas with sweat-stained armpits and delivering this clanger in melodic synchrony with my ever suffering younger sister.*
“Where is the babe born King of the Jews? No one is able to give us the news.”Exit stage right, quickly.
In my teenage years I played a forlorn workhouse boy and low-life ruffian in Oliver!, a background role worth the waiting for.
And from humble beginnings playing a ruminant mammal I ended my acting career on a high as a Shepherdess on the Delectable Mountains pointing Pilgrim to the Celestial City of Gold. No bloomer bloopers thankfully!
I am content to leave my brief dramatic experiences in the past but cannot promise clement weather in the future. Bring an umbrella 😃
*Don’t ask her about the piano duet.
Sharon Hawkey
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