Last week, during the reading of my play, Good Bread Alley, when we reached the scene when Celia calls on the heavens to bring a storm, the sky outside of the lodge where we were working started crackling with lightning. The rain came crashing onto the roof and then the electricity went out. We paused and waited in the darkness. Then the power returned like magic so we could finish the reading. In that moment, I knew without a doubt, that the spirits of my great grandmother and grandfather were nodding in approval saying, gone and tell our story…it was the kind of magic that sustains you for a lifetime… that’s the kind of fierceness i come from…. ache….
0 Comments
Your comment will be posted after it is approved.
Leave a Reply. |
AuthorGood Bread Alley Playwright, April Yvette Thompson Categories
All
|