It was in Peoria, A morning of scorching hot sun rays. We waited outside near the old rusted doors that led to the auditorium. Each curtain measured about ten feet by twelve and were quite aged. In some of them there were gaping holes. These were the condemned, due to be hanged until money could be funded to replace objects that theatre needs.
Till that moment I had never realized what it means to destroy a determined, conscious human-being. When I saw the director stand in anguish, I saw the mystery, the unspeakable wrongness, of cutting the already miniscule funding. All of the actors and crew were working to put on the show of their lifetime, reusing 30 year old costumes and props, renewing wood from past prop sets, hands forming posters