Blogs
Adele’s New Career2/25/2011
MY NEW CAREER
At last count about five decades of my life have revolved around five children, eleven grandchildren, ten greats and another five great-greats. This makes me at once happy and gloomy. You see I’d majored in art and poetry in college—and followed theatre everywhere- but creative moments for me as an actor had become the stuff of dreams. As a result, I had become convinced that I was forever burdened by the belief that I had a lost career, a lost passion. Why hadn’t I performed as a splendid Caliban in Shakespeare’s “The Tempest” leaping out at my best friend, Prospero? Too, I didn’t I play the prince in “Socar and the Crocodile,” made my own kilt and a wig of black paper strips. When, at the height of my one speech, my kit fell off—well, I rallied like a trooper when my worst enemy was laughing in the audience. So angry was I that I hauled up my kilt, turned my wig around so that I could see, finished my speech and marched off the stage.
But wait a minute! On the horizon looms a luminous new sun thanks to my book, “Our Sacred Garden -The Living Earth” because my days of performing aren’t over after all. Now I had to spread the word to audiences everywhere – a prospect which made me shudder. Book fairs, lectures, and worse yet the prospect of Twitter and You tube still sounded dreadful. Time and again, I shouted “No” to my publisher and “no way” to my editors, Bishop and Blake who, I assumed, just as leery of the gauzy new world of the Internet as I was. And so it was that I turned my back on such a frightful new world. I just won’t do it all summer; I have to paint, maybe in the fall. THEN it struck me that my long lost career could be right here and now. It had crept up and was shouting “Wake UP”. Use a little imagination and more courage. To renew your potential Hollywood career might be just the challenge you need to stay alive until you’re a hundred-years-old or more. You can talk to the whole world. You can tell them to stop destroying the Earth and figure out how each of us can heal it—and us. You can read them, I told myself, T.S. Elliot or Bill Collins, John Donne or Dylan Thomas—most of all W.B. Yeats. You can even perform your own poetry—and that WILL take some acting.
So, world, wish me luck.