Degas, C’est Moi

Play: Degas, C’est Moi
Author: David Ives
Role: Ed
Age: 30 – 50
Style: Comedic
Time:

A stroke of genius. I decide to be Degas for a day. Why Degas? Well why not Degas? Pourquoi pas Degas? Maybe the prismatic bars of color on my ceiling have inspired me. Maybe it’s all the cheap French wine I’ve been drinking.

Okay, so I don’t know much about Degas. Let’s See. Dead, French, impressionist painter of ballerinas, flowers, that kinda thing. And okay granted, I’m not French, dead or a painter of any kind. And yet – are Degas and I not united by our shared humanity? By our common need for love, coffee, deodorant?

This is wonderful! In the bathroom, the very porcelain pullulates with possibilities. Will you look at the luster of that toilet? In the shower, it feels strange, lathering an immortal. What’s even stranger, the immortal is lathering back.

How did I become such a genius? I, who flunked workshop in high school? Was it my traumatic childhood? Did I have a traumatic childhood? Well something must have happened. Because now I’m great. I’m brilliant. My name will live forever! Gone the dreary daily déjà vu. Today – Degas vu.

EDITED: 50 Seconds.
A stroke of genius. I decide to be Degas for a day. Why Degas? Well why not Degas? Pourquoi pas Degas?

Okay, so I don’t know much about Degas. Let’s See. Dead, French, impressionist painter of ballerinas. And okay granted, I’m not French, dead or a painter of any kind. And yet – are Degas and I not united by our shared humanity? By our common need for love, coffee, deodorant?

How did I become such a genius? I, who flunked workshop in high school? Was it my traumatic childhood? Did I have a traumatic childhood? Well something must have happened. Because now I’m brilliant. My name will live forever! Gone the dreary daily déjà vu. Today – Degas vu.