And words writ on computer screens are cold.

I spent the last few days studying Rostand’s form in “Cyrano de Bergerac”.  Free verse without rhyme, set to a count of ten. You can break a line, just keep the beat. Daddio. I know. I know. There are technical terms for this, but I just want the nuts and bolts; like building a set or hanging a light: concrete things that make the magic happen. I am not quite there yet, but this morning, I wrote one of the best damned pieces of free verse I have done so far, and I cannot share it because it is so very, very personal. And if there’s anything I’ve learned of late, it’s that if you’re selling this thing called Creativity, it cannot go too willy-nilly into your  Persona. Because sometimes , you will indulge in forbidden areas that only you can accept. Unskillful presentation will send the audience fleeing. If you can find  a way to touch the horror, and have them stay in their seats, then you are a legendary genius. I don’t know anyone who’s capable. The title of this piece, “And words writ on computer screens are cold,” is the one safe line and I love its mix of ancient and modern. “writ” on “computer screens.” The heat comes from the actor’s voice. From the stroke of paint. From the ink on paper. Maybe the Kindle will change this calculation. Maybe your mind can do it all. I don’t know. Perhaps words that are cold on the screen will be just as chilling spoken face-to-face.