As You Like It

So, this was a repeated prompt, and while I have tickets enough to do this for a year straight, I’m too lazy to find them all, so instead I’ll show you a project I did in London that also fits this requirement.

Here is the picture of the whole page in the journal:

Okay, so it’s not the ticket, but it’s the playbill, and the ticket is on the next page, so I think it counts. Our professor gave us old copies of old books and asked us to tear out a page in a book, and create “found poetry” from it by blacking out most of the words and leaving only certain ones visible. At first we all stared at her like she was out of her mind – the idea of ripping out a page in the book horrified all of us. We were literacy education graduate students, we had far too much respect for the written word to DO such a thing.

We were assured that the literature gods wouldn’t smite us if we were using the pages to create new prose, we set to work.

I don’t know how familiar you are with As You Like It, and I think you should read/see it, so I won’t give too much of the plot away – but it’s Shakespeare, so it won’t come as a surprise to you that there is a man in love with a woman featured in the story. There’s so much more (in fact, this is one of my favorite Shakespeare plays) but for now, that’s all you need to know. There are also love letters involved. In fact, the backdrop to this journal page are actual pieces that were thrown into the air and into the audience at the performace of As You Like It we saw the Royal Shakespeare Company perform while we were in Stratford-Upon-Avon (if you’re into Shakespeare at all, I hope you’re a little jealous right now. I’M a little jealous, and it happened to me.)

Anyway, here is the “poem” I created:

If I were to recite it, it would be broken up as follows:

He will write a declaration of love.

A most natural feeling pleased him.

So much pleasure.

He loves that woman.

He has the tenderest spirit,

overpowered by admiration,

he was encouraged enough to proceed.

Another assignment we had attached to this lesson was to create “love” letters of our own and hang them from random trees throughout England, in hopes they would bring a smile to someone’s face when they read them.  I decided to draw mine on my own little symbolic tree, though obviously the original is no longer in my possession:

In case you can’t read my rushed, messy handwriting, it also happens to be a lovely way to close out this post. So here is the quote from Shakespeare, and how I signed it:

“Though seest we are not all alone unhappy: This wide and universal theater presents more woeful pageants than the scene wherein we play in.” – Someone who hopes you never give up

~ by Valerie Anne on 05/27/2012.

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