Sometimes the end of an act is a brick wall. Cruising, cruising, smash! Painful, shocking, disorienting. Which way is up, is there an up? Who will I be?
Other acts end not at a wall, but at the top of a slippery slope. Life seems to be gradually going downhill. All too soon you find yourself in the dark shadows of a deep canyon. You wonder if you know how to climb.
Another part of the play has you as the author. Perhaps this act will be fully on the sunny side. You do your creative best, but have learned to always carry an umbrella.
Sometimes the end of an act is a brick wall. Cruising, cruising, smash! Painful, shocking, disorienting. Which way is up, is there an up? Who will I be?
Other acts end not at a wall, but at the top of a slippery slope. Life seems to be gradually going downhill. All too soon you find yourself in the dark shadows of a deep canyon. You wonder if you know how to climb.
Another part of the play has you as the author. Perhaps this act will be fully on the sunny side. You do your creative best, but have learned to always carry an umbrella.