During the rehearsal process I got thrown off the horse.
quote by Julie Benz
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I really miss the rehearsal process of theater.
quote by Kurtwood Smith
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Dan Wasn’t Thrown from His Horse
THEY SAY he was thrown and run over,
But that is sheer nonsense, of course:
I taught him to ride when a kiddy,
And Dan wasn’t thrown from his horse.
The horse that Dan rode was a devil—
The kind of a brute I despise,
With nasty white eyelashes fringing
A pair of red, sinister eyes.
And a queerly-shaped spot on his forehead,
Where I put a conical ball
The day that he murdered Dan Denver,
The pluckiest rider of all.
’Twas after the races were over
And Duggan (a Talbragar man)
And two of the Denvers, and Barney
Were trying a gallop with Dan.
Dan’s horse on a sudden got vicious,
And reared up an’ plunged in the race,
Then threw back his head, hitting Dan like
A sledge-hammer, full in the face.
Dan stopped and got down, stood a moment,
Then fell to the ground like a stone,
And died about ten minutes after;
But they’re liars who say he was thrown.
poem by Henry Lawson
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Certainly from the rehearsal process with Elizabeth I think it was very clear. Well let me start again. We were initially supposed to be more combative.
quote by Jennifer Beals
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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What is a Horse?
What is a horse?
A horse has eyes as dainty as a mink.
The grace is interrupted merely by a blink.
A horse is beauty.
What is a horse?
A horse is a tree in a storm that never goes down.
A horse is a weathered rock that stays around.
A horse is ancient.
What is a horse?
A horse waltzes like breeze over rivers.
She curvets and leaps like rain shivers.
A horse is a marionette.
What is a horse?
A horse is determination, that never stops flowing.
A horse is fondness, that never stops growing.
A horse is poetic power.
poem by Lily Whittaker
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I love the rehearsal process in the theatre, and the visceral sense of contact and communication with a live audience.
quote by Judd Nelson
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I really love the process, with stage, of rehearsal, you get to create a character, and you have a beginning, a middle, and an end of story. And in television, you don't.
quote by Sasha Alexander
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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It's exciting to do something like this because usually what happens in theater is that, after the first or second reading of a play, it falls apart completely and the rehearsal process is such that you begin to pick up the pieces and put it back together again.
quote by Treat Williams
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Ghost Song
An old man and an old horse moved slowly and steadily
towards the furthest mountain.
An old man on an old horse.
The old man thought of the many times he'd been thrown;
the old horse, how many times he'd been ridden.
They weren't in no great rush.
The old man sat straight in the saddle, head held high.
The old horse kept his head high too,
letting his feet choose the way as they
searched the clouds looking for any old friends
they had passed on the way.
A soft gentle rain started to fall,
the horse stopped, the old man bent over
and stroked his friend's neck
poem by William Mendelson
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I have directed good actors and have gone through the process which is more detailed in theater in a way. You have to get people to stay for two or three hours in a performance. They need more talk and rehearsal than in films.
quote by Julie Taymor
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I sit astride life like a bad rider on a horse. I only owe it to the horse's good nature that I am not thrown off at this very moment.
quote by Ludwig Wittgenstein
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Wind Horse
Da naho… It is said,
Wind Horse, gentle Wind horse, you were the last of your kind.
Wind Horse, Wind Horse, you were running wild and free.
Wind Horse, Wind Horse, with this freedom you did nothing but give;
When one called for help you carried them to safety,
No enemy did you have.
Da naho… It is said,
Wind Horse, Wind Horse, you gave your life one day
To a boy with no leg.
Wind Horse, Wind Horse, you gave him your endless love.
Wind Horse, Wind Horse, you now run in the Great Hunting Grounds;
Giving joy to those there, as you did here.
Da naho… It is said,
Wind Horse, Wind Horse, your life was not the last gift
You gave the People.
Wind Horse, Wind Horse, you prayed for us, you wished a wish for us.
Wind Horse, Wind Horse, we remember you through your brother Horse.
Wi: yo: h … It is good.
Wind Horse, Wind Horse, we see you still.
poem by Tolly Rebeka Christian BlackWolf Hawk
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A Horse Is A Horse
A horse is a horse and a man is a man
And neither can be the other
And each can survive but is much better
In the company of one another.
And while a horse is a horse and that is true
A horse is but a beast
As a cow is a cow, some ask how
On its flesh we should not feast?
For they do so in France as in other places
And I don't know how they can
For while a horse is a horse and is only a horse
It is less a cow than it is a man!
poem by Tomás Ó Cárthaigh
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The Process of Attraction
Women, their coy's, walking
With men or alone,
Wilderness, desires,
In their eyes;
Gestures, approach, looks,
Expecting the act of exchange,
Never generalise, looks away
In the due process of exchange, not ready to
Receive it from the recipient, with inviting eyes,
Her super ego tells her to look away,
Desires of commanding position, dictatorship,
Sit on them, ride them, just like a horse,
Some are submissive, entirely, desires of owning
The horse, knowing the horse cannot be taken for a ride,
Or perceiving the horse as an object
Of luxury, power, different, scare, well bred,
A rare vision, as it is one,
Some are hurt, bleeding roses,
Expecting the hands
To touch, kiss them care for them,
Grow them well, sprinkle
Waters of good scent on them, remove their thorns,
Lift them with the vase, they don't
Search recipient neither wait for the process of exchange, but very
Distinct in picking traits of pure love and
Reciprocating them;
poem by Muthu Krishnan
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I don't rehearse films as much as opera or theatre. When I began directing films I thought a long rehearsal was a good idea. Experience showed me that the best performance was often left in a rehearsal room.
quote by Bruce Beresford
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Me & My Horse
riding together,
you and your horse.
as you run against the wind all you call hear is-
the wind wipping your ears,
the horse's hooves thundering beneath you,
the chains of your bit as the horse pulls against the reins,
and the faint sound of the horse behind you.
your horse stops,
the horse behind you catches up.
the race is over,
freedom will have to wait until next time.
poem by Horse Lover
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Horse For Dinner
A horse A horse
My kingdom for a horse,
A horse A horse
For the main course
Muscles of might
Pulled so tight,
A body of organs
All for a meal
Why a horse?
Why not a deer?
A horse does the work,
A deer will just peer
A horse is strong
a deer has no uses,
so there for a deer
suffers the abuses
Condemned is a deer
as from the day it's born,
until the day it dies
and its meaty flesh torn
So why a horse
if a deer has no uses?
because I am a man
Who too, has suffered too many abuses
poem by John McAdam
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I tend to arrive in the rehearsal process with very strongly developed ideas about what I want to do. But I don't like those ideas to be things that are not subject to change, or subject to development, or subject to challenge.
quote by Trevor Nunn
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Consumed Within the Process
Consumed within the process
That process we call life.
Immuned? Not from this process.
It keeps the vision near yet uncompromised.
And far enough to become realized.
Consumed.
Within the process.
That process called life!
Don't assume...
This process,
Is a process you can't like!
Consumed.
Within the process.
That process called life!
Don't assume...
This process,
Is a process you can't like!
Consumed.
Within the process.
That process called life!
Don't assume...
This process,
Is a process you can't like!
Consumed within the process.
That process we call life.
Immuned?
Not from this process!
It keeps the vision near yet uncompromised.
And far enough to become realized.
Closing its eyes only when it wishes,
To call itself out!
Consumed.
Within the process.
That process called life!
Don't assume...
This process,
Is a process you can't like!
Consumed.
Within the process.
That process called life!
Don't assume...
This process,
Is a process you can't like!
It keeps the vision in precision,
Until it's in 'all' sights.
Consumed.
Within the process.
That process called life!
Don't assume...
This process,
Is a process you can't like!
Consumed.
Within the process.
That process called life!
Don't assume...
This process,
Is a process you can't like!
It keeps the vision in precision,
Until it's in 'all' sights.
Consumed.
Within the process.
Just consumed.
Within the process this process.
Consumed.
Within the process.
That process called life!
Don't assume...
This process,
Is a process you can't like!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Horse To Outrun
A horse is sent to outrun the rollers with wheels,
A pin and needle can be a horse, but they are animals.
Stones are thrown on the bleeding wounds,
Heaven shines its odours on them to bind.
The wheels spin, to collect a dust of ruined historical measures,
Wheels indeed spin around to outrun the steed,
To make it abandon, but the battle is never-ending.
Eat the green goose, for it is cherished for its taste,
After the race is won by the rollers with wheels.
If the horse triumphs then exaltation is not possible,
Wheels are to oppress the horse or steed
To make it bleed and to crush its very head and neck.
poem by Naveed Akram
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A Cowboy VALENTINE-She Opened My Eyes - - What a Surprise
Thought I knew
Where this was a goin'
Sure read the signs wrong
She was a showin'
All I could see
Was her blue eyes a blinkin'
'Than' I started to fall in love
What was I a thinkin'
My horse has never
Thrown me so hard
I 'spected us to be forever
'Than' she done turned her last card
Cashed in stood up and
Just walked away
Leaving me holding an empty bag
Not knowing what to say
I still have my horse
Of course
But only half less
Of the mess she left
poem by Tom J. Mariani
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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