A Year Of Hope

First dress rehersals began Monday.

Jane and I had brought our attire to campus that day so we could quickly change before heading over. And I came to the embarrassing realization I didn't know how to tie a tie.

Jane knocked on the boys bathroom door. "Cai, is everything okay? Do you have diarrhea or something?"

I laughed and walked out of the bathroom, and for a second I forgot everything as I saw how naturally beautiful she looked in that little black dress.

"Cai, you dork, your forgot to tie your tie."

I chuckled a bit. "I don't know how to tie a tie, that's what was taking me so long."

Jane giggled, "Why didn't you say anything. Come here! Bend down."

Her face was inches from my own, and I imagined her pulling me just slightly closer and kissing me. But she wasn't looking at me, she w me as swiftly tying my tie, and then she fixed my color and buttoned my jacket.

"Cai, you look freaking adorable!" Jane said as she quickly glanced me up and down. "Come on, let's hurry!"

The first day of dress rehearsals, we were allowed to sit in the seats instead of behind the stage so we could watch the acts since we wouldn't be able to during the actual showcase.

What amazed me the most was the living painting. Before they had stood in an empty frame on a platform and stood completely still, until the lights briefly dimmed and they would move briefly, and then the lights would dim and they would return back to their positions and remain still for the remainder of the song.

But the frame wasn't empty today. The art students had completed the frame and inside the frame was the painting Dance Class at the Opera on Le Pelletier Str. The people who were apart of of the painting painted themselves, and starched and painted their clothes so they looked like a genuine piece of the art. And then the lights dimmed and came back on, and the people inside the painting began to move, by pretending to talk or doing ballet stretches, and then the lights dimmed once more and they were completely still.

The living statue was of The Motherland Calls and she had been painted head to toe in gray, and her hair and clothes were stiff and molded exactly like the statue. The lights dimed and she began to move, waving behind her as if she beckoned someone to follow, and then she held her sword high and started to take a step forward, but the lights dimmed right as she would have stepped off the pedestal, and when they turned back on, she was back in her original form. The pedestal rotated as the singer sung so everyone could see all angles.

The speed painters were also impressive. One painted a still life of flowers, and the other at first I had thought wasn't painting at all, but then at the end, he threw sand on the canvas, and the sand that stuck formed a woman's face.

The dancers were elegant and graceful, and all the musical performances were all so beautiful I found it almost sad when they had to end. And of course I enjoyed the poets. When it was Jane's turn to recite her poem, I put in some earplugs, but I watched her. She looked at me the whole time, as if the poem was for me.

What was also impressive was all the technical work. In the transition between the different talents, the lights dimmed, and in the time it took the professor to introduce the next performance, everything was fully set up.

When it came time for me to recite my poem, I felt a knot in my stomach knowing that although this wasn't a full crowd like it would be on the night of performances, this was the first time everyone would be hearing me recite it, but then I saw Jane sitting in the crowd with her earbuds in, and she smiled at me, and I managed to make it through my short poem.