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Morning Musings
Jul. 1st, 2013 10:01 pmBy mutual agreement, Miki-chan and I do not leave our dormitory at the same time. We enjoy one another's company - we would not room together if we did not - but mornings are my best times, her worst. If I had to wait for Miki-chan to get ready before I left, I would be in a sour mood all day. To say that she is slow to rise would be an understatement. I am usually picking up my handbag when she stumbles out of our shared bedroom, her hair in disarray.
Mornings are my time. I like to wake up early. The morning is fresh and new. Anything can happen. I like having my tea while looking out the window at the stirrings of life. The birds hopping on the telephone lines. The few businessmen who have to catch the early train - they walk with such purpose, oblivious to their surroundings. The opposite of me. I drink in the sights and sounds as I do my tea.
Even though Miki-chan is not what you would call a light sleeper, I take care not to disturb her in the morning. I lay my clothes out at night, before bed, and make sure my rehearsal bag is packed. I make my bento, or put aside money to pick up something at the theatre for lunch. I charge my phone and my ipod. The only thing I don't do is shower one last time. I prefer morning showers. Fresh, clean me for a fresh day. Not covered in the sweat of the night, or the general muzziness from lying still for hours on end.
On the way to the theatre, I have to put on my face. My public face. The one that smiles brightly but not too boldly. The one that is confident, yet demure. Pure, proper, beautiful. The motto of Takarazuka isn't only a motto - it's a mantra. A way of life. The face you show everyone, no matter what you are feeling truly in your heart. It is a safety net and a butterfly net at the same time.
The walk does not take long - the dormitory is part of the Takarazuka complex, after all - but it takes longer than one would think, because of the paths of the walkways. A performer must approach from a certain direction, and in a certain manner, so there are ways to ensure that happens, no matter where she lives.
The walk is always full of interesting people. The different fan clubs arrange themselves carefully near the performers' entrance, seated in front, standing at the back. Proper, so that everyone can see their favorite performer as she walks past. Everyone can bask in her smile, thrill at her hand waving to them. See and be seen.
My fan club is midway up the path, standing at the back, powder blue silk scarves fluttering like wings or banners. The color of the morning sky at the tops of the trees. I pause every day, say hello, and collect my letters. If I am alone when I walk up, I will stop and chat for a moment or two. Never more than pleasantries, but it makes me happy to be able to address those who support me by name, even if all I can say to them personally is, "good morning; it's lovely to see you." Once in a very rare while, I pull my smaller camera from my handbag and snap a picture of them, or let them do the same with me. It is all a matter of timing.
A final bow and smile, and then I am through, past the gallery of faces, and into the theatre complex itself. I find my name tile on the board and flip it around to mark that I have arrived. One last ritual before my public face changes to my performer's face.
Word Count: 650
Mornings are my time. I like to wake up early. The morning is fresh and new. Anything can happen. I like having my tea while looking out the window at the stirrings of life. The birds hopping on the telephone lines. The few businessmen who have to catch the early train - they walk with such purpose, oblivious to their surroundings. The opposite of me. I drink in the sights and sounds as I do my tea.
Even though Miki-chan is not what you would call a light sleeper, I take care not to disturb her in the morning. I lay my clothes out at night, before bed, and make sure my rehearsal bag is packed. I make my bento, or put aside money to pick up something at the theatre for lunch. I charge my phone and my ipod. The only thing I don't do is shower one last time. I prefer morning showers. Fresh, clean me for a fresh day. Not covered in the sweat of the night, or the general muzziness from lying still for hours on end.
On the way to the theatre, I have to put on my face. My public face. The one that smiles brightly but not too boldly. The one that is confident, yet demure. Pure, proper, beautiful. The motto of Takarazuka isn't only a motto - it's a mantra. A way of life. The face you show everyone, no matter what you are feeling truly in your heart. It is a safety net and a butterfly net at the same time.
The walk does not take long - the dormitory is part of the Takarazuka complex, after all - but it takes longer than one would think, because of the paths of the walkways. A performer must approach from a certain direction, and in a certain manner, so there are ways to ensure that happens, no matter where she lives.
The walk is always full of interesting people. The different fan clubs arrange themselves carefully near the performers' entrance, seated in front, standing at the back. Proper, so that everyone can see their favorite performer as she walks past. Everyone can bask in her smile, thrill at her hand waving to them. See and be seen.
My fan club is midway up the path, standing at the back, powder blue silk scarves fluttering like wings or banners. The color of the morning sky at the tops of the trees. I pause every day, say hello, and collect my letters. If I am alone when I walk up, I will stop and chat for a moment or two. Never more than pleasantries, but it makes me happy to be able to address those who support me by name, even if all I can say to them personally is, "good morning; it's lovely to see you." Once in a very rare while, I pull my smaller camera from my handbag and snap a picture of them, or let them do the same with me. It is all a matter of timing.
A final bow and smile, and then I am through, past the gallery of faces, and into the theatre complex itself. I find my name tile on the board and flip it around to mark that I have arrived. One last ritual before my public face changes to my performer's face.
Word Count: 650
