Ballroom Masque

We all wear masks, good ones, bad ones, ornate ones. These masks are the identities that we create as defenses or they are made for us by the expectations of another. A lot of primitive tribal dancing and old world stage shows put to good use the mask.

A mask is for us as it is for those that I've just mentioned, a projection of a part of us, whether true or idealized. Many other interpretations can be thought of by the mask, the criminal with intent to deceive or the painted ladies of the Avalon who want to attract. My masks are my defenses and they do hide my weaker elements. When I am powerless, I feel empowered behind a mask of strength and confidence.
There are many masks and even I laugh at some from the comfort of the security from behind my own. The mask of perfection and the mask of instant expert are two masks that most often make me laugh. The mask of independence is one I wear a lot. Independence is a worthy attribute for anyone yet underneath I know I need others. The mask of strength is also a favorite of mine. I need that because I am a role model, I have to look decisive, confident when those small eyes look up to me for guidance.
Removing a mask at once is a shock. People who think they know you suddenly see a side of you that they were not sure existed or not. My emotional overload made me lose mine. Masks should be removed slowly over time. This way people naturally assume that you slowly open to them.

But now I have re-adjusted mine and once more I am the Jazz that everyone knows. Unmask me and I am partly naked and feel I am a stranger and most who know me become unsure in their approach to me. Thankfully I have people who can pick me up when I fall and help me adjust my masks again.

Lacrimosa -Phantom of the Opera

In sleep she sang to me
In dreams she came
That voice which calls to me
And speaks my name
And do I dream again?
For now I find
The phantom of the opera is there,
Inside my mind

Re-tie my ribbons. Pass me my lipstick, my mascara & eye shadows and my other tribal paints. I'll brush back my hair and reset my adornments and once more I face you. Now again, I become transformed into what you expected to find, I am the familiar smile, the sparkling eyes, the ghost moving in and out of people's lives, the one you remember so well from times past. Once again I can take my place up on the stage amongst all of you others, who in turn wear your own masks and the show goes on. It must go on!
Only in my private moments or within intimate company do I remove my mask completely. Luckily I do know where my mask ends and where the real me underneath begins and as long as I remember and recognize that point of separation then my sanity has a chance to remain intact as I step in and out of character.

Credit to first image mask image source: Thank you

I saw a man today and he was very regal looking in his stature upon the balcony of his palace, although his clothes were simple. He looked no different in dress for all those that looked up to him with a mixture of respect and fear. With a final wave to his admiring audience he turned and entered into his private rooms. He sat down at a very elaborate and ostentatiously decorated and polished Brazilian redwood table. It was filled with luscious fruits and savory cooked meats and exotic wines from around the world. Outside the sad ashen faces drifted with their hunger. He gestured me to sit yet I was not offered any refreshment.
I saw in one side room sheets of metal and boxes of chemicals and through its window I saw distant farms with animals and crops and fruits.
I asked if perhaps when he had eaten his fill I might take some of what remained from his table to feed the hungry outside and he shook his head.
I asked what the metal and chemicals were for and with great pride and enthusiasm, he told me of his construction of planes and tanks and bombs. He had his great arsenals to defend his nation of those hungry people and protect his farms and animals and growing things. "Who is all that produce for?" I asked
"For those that build my defenses and the glorious soldiers who protect the common people.
"Can it not feed the common people too?" I asked very simplistically.
"Sadly it cannot" he said with his well practiced sad eyes. He looked down at his full belly and wiped fruit juice from his lips. "Sadly my resources are extremely limited but I know what is best and what my priorities are" he added with a contented smile.

It pained me when I see both in abundance but only one of the two can be utilized. The pain of economics! Without insult to him I kept quiet my thoughts that perhaps priorities change when your belly is not full!