The Dance and the Railroad by David Henry Hwang

Today, waking up late --a little bit just becuase I needed the sleep to compensate for tiredness and fatigue of the days prior and a little bit becuase yesterday was so phenomenally upsetting--I opened a book of plays that I had been wanting to read. Years ago I worked on the production of a play called F.O.B. which stands for "Fresh Of the Boat" a derogatory and insulting term referring to new immigrants. I had read the play _M.Butterfly_ for a class and immediately begun to be aware of how powerful and touching DHH's words were to me. I love to imagine and picture the plays in production as I read them. It's fine for a dramatic read-through to just be acquiainted with the text and to make mistakes. I'm saving a playbook to read each night of chag that I'm out during sukkot. I hope I can find someone to read the scripts with me out loud... though it might be difficult as few other Jews are aware of the Asian-American experience in the US.

Anyway, this morning I read _The Dance and the Railroad_ and I found myself marvelling again at Devid Henry Hwang's ability to capture human naivete and jadedness... I marvelled too at his ability to translate that strength that comes from disillusionment and inspiration.. the two chracters "switch places" so o speak.. one man who has long ago given up hope gains hope and the other one who is naively hopeful becomes despairing --it seems life is like this often, but that's not what captured my mind, it was actually how he portrays this marvelous piece of the human condition wherein one can recapture one's strength and face one's fear...

oops, the time, i hafta go, sorry not to end this properly