How Often, My Friends?

08 Jan


I know it has been a long time. I have thought many times to come on here and update, but, alas, time has swept away from me. During these past several months, I have been so busy… with life. Too many details to share here, but I would like to let you know that I have been writing quite a bit and have several things I would like to publish on here soon. Poetry, short stories, other musings. It will all be coming soon, so I apologize for the delay in my update.

In other news, I saw some spectacular theater the other night. I saw Othello by Shakespeare at the Pop-Up Globe. I have long been a Shakespeare fan and seeing live productions of his plays is always a good time, but this production of Othello by the Queen’s Company was superb. I absolutely enjoyed it.

I laughed. I cried (really.) I booed and hissed at the villain and cheered for the good guys. I was silenced when the good were murdered and bad exulted. Yet, through all of these emotions within 2.5 hours, I found myself looking into a mirror of today’s world. How relevant Shakespeare’s plays are in modern life!

Jealousy, envy, doubt, division, racism, sexism, drunkenness, deception, love, betrayal, trust… Every theme, every emotion played a part not just in the play I saw but in the world I live in. Perhaps that is what Shakespeare wanted to convey to his audience in his more serious productions: the ugliness of humanity.

Of course there is beauty and passion and art in humanity, but we sometimes try to cover our hideous nature with that of something better (or fake). I believe, however, that we must look at the ugliness of ourselves sometimes and Othello does this beautifully by gradually taking its audience from the beauty into the ugly, from the light into the darkness, from love into hatred. It is so gradual, in fact, that it is not until the second half that you realize the underlying doom is slowly sinking into your heart.

That is what made and still makes Othello amazing and relevant today. How often does this happen to us in our own lives? How often do we listen to someone else’s opinion and it slowly turns into our own? How often do we go through life and never realize the despair engulfing us until it’s almost too late? How often do we believe the darkness over the light and trust the inherent bad in others rather than accepting that some are simply good?

How often, my friends? How often is too often? How often is enough?


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