I see thee yet, in form as palpable as this which now I draw

Last night, sitting on a blanket on the ersatz turf of the sporting field behind the Old Stone House in Park Slope, I enjoyed the production of Macbeth by South Brooklyn Shakespeare, now in their fifth season.

Set in a post-Vietnam timeframe, fatigues comprised much of the wardrobe, and the weird sisters in proto-punk variations on kilts, a playful reminder of the setting (and I wish I’d drawn them, too).

The sky, too, was dramatic, the wind never ceasing in its toil to keep the endless tide of clouds moving overhead, first unveiling then covering over the moon, and over and over.

(For anyone still tallying up: these bring me to 81 / 100 people )

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