Close Sidebar
Type & Hit Enter To Search
Recent Comments

The lights are blinding, row after row, They find us heartbroken, Naked in the snow. A tree, a bridge, a moon of red, Paint me…

If you speak any lines, or do anything, mechanically, without fully realizing who you are, where you came from, why, what you want, where you are going, and what you will do when you get there, you will be acting without imagination. That time, whether it be short or long, will be unreal, and you will be nothing more than a wound-up machine, an automaton.

- Stanislavski, An Actor Prepares

© Copyright 2014 Ian Arawjo. All rights reserved.