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A Streetcar Named Desire

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Yesterday, I went to the ballet for the second time in my life. The ballet was definitely mentally stimulating. The fact that I had a ticket in seat 49 is phenomenal.

When I was a little boy, I was told that the ballet was for sissies, but the more mature I became the more I realized that people are fairly ignorant and afraid of change.

The only constant is change and if you do not think that change is possible, how do you explain all the hype about the election in November? President Barack Obama will likely serve a second-term.

That's a second-term for a black president. No one ever thought that was possible when I was a kid, but change is always on the horizon.

But, I digress, the ballet was very wonderful. I witnessed the performances that managed to produce amazing emotions. The emotions were very surreal.

I am familiar with Tennessee Williams and think that his life story is akin to my own struggle as someone trying to make it in the literary world. The sheer number of people who turned out to the Benedum Center was impressive and Eva Trapp who played Blanch DuBois is worthy to be praised.

A jarring portrayal of clashing cultures, John Neumeier's adaptation of Tennessee Williams’ A Streetcar Named Desire lays bare the pure emotion of dance. Taking audiences inside the tormented mind of aging southern belle Blanch Du Bois, the production alternates between past and present, echoing her unraveling sense of reality. The set, costuming and sound design provide a rich backdrop to the powerful and evocative choreography. This is sure to be an assault on the senses of the highest order.

Just because no one else thinks you're sane, doesn't mean you aren't sane. Since last year, I've attended cultural events all by myself and it's liberating to experience something as intimate as the ballet without fear of retribution.

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