Or, Apologetically Forcing My Trip On You Again
ACT ONE, SCENE ONE
We open with the clown alone in the circle. The lights are dim. Utter silence. The clown begins to move around slowly, confused.
Narrator: Our Clown was born in a haze of chaos. Things are very unknown and scary. First he stands up. (Clown stands up, looks around, sad). Eventually he finds his hands, and is deluded into thinking he’s got company.
Soft keyboard melody begins. The clown dances across the stage, watching his hands. Large steps, and swaying, the clown makes the circle again, and again.
Narrator: Our Clown personifies his extremities. He’s aware that he is real, and therefore, that which is of him is real.
Delight fills the clown. The dancing starts becoming swirling. Arms extended, watching his hands, the clown spins and spins.
Narrator: Our Clown is lost in the spiral. He’s not even aware that there is a way out. He might not even want out. This happens when you aren’t even aware of your surroundings. But wait! Something’s happened!
The clown starts seeing his hands as demons. He starts losing balance. He almost falls, gets his balance back, almost falls again. Stops.
Narrator: Our Clown is overwhelmed, and when it seems he can’t take it anymore, he starts to notice things outside of him. (Clown gazes at the crowd, terrified). He’s still sure that he’s real, and his hands are real, but now all these new faces, and hands. (Clown starts fearfully backing away from the crowd, staring at their hands). They all look so much like his hands. Suddenly, it becomes clear to Our Clown that his hands are not separate from himself, but part of his whole oneness.
The clown starts moving like water, fluidly flailing across the stage. He starts becoming aware of his whole body, still flowing, he examines different pats of his body.
Narrator: Our Clown is aware of his entire being. It is all part of himself, and he sees it as real. Reality is the one thing Our Clown knows to be good in his infancy. All that is good and right is what he knows, and all he knows is himself. (Clown stops, hugs himself). Comfortable, and real, and known, and good, Our Clown decides to listen to his body, mainly because he’s still lost, and needs guidance.
The clown starts making a listening gesture, not unlike Hulk Hogan, and starts trying to hear his body. He can’t hear some parts, and it makes him squint and concentrate. He doesn’t like doing that, so he moves on and tries other parts. Some are very loud, and scare him. Startled, he pulls away and tries his belly.
Narrator: Our Clown finally hears it. Can you hear it? (Clown looks at the crowd, questioning them with his eyes, a loud gurgle is played over the speakers). Need is something new to Our Clown, but it is of him, so it must be good.
The clown begins looking across the circle, but only inside of it. He’s making a gesture with his hand like a visor. He finds something and picks it up. It’s a lighter. He examines it and strikes the flame. He’s hypnotized by the lights dancing. He tries to dance with it but it goes out. This makes him sad, and he paces around sulking for a minute, and then looks back at the lighter, and rubs his belly. Strikes it again and his whole being lights up with it. He opens his mouth and stats to take the flame in, but stops, stares at it, and touches it with his hand.
Narrator: Our Clown doesn’t know this. Our Clown doesn’t like this.