You never realize how much color affects your state of mind until you are confronted with an obvious example. The entire theatre in Casablanca was blood red. I mean EVERYTHING was blood red – the walls, the ceiling, the floors, the tables, the chairs – all painted with the same deep crimson shade. At first, it was an exciting novelty. As the day wore on, the novelty wore off. Hours of working in a blood red environment was having the same affect on a lot of us: shortness of breath, irritability, panic attacks. I couldn’t take it any longer so I rushed out of the stage door. I thought if I just took a few moments outside in the fresh air – the panic attack would subside and I’d be fine. Wrong. Every man standing on the street (and there were a lot of them) turned to stare at me and start shouting obscenities. OK – I admit that this was my fault. I was in my dance clothes, which was highly inappropriate for a Muslim country. In my defense – who changes their clothes in the middle of a panic attack? I quickly retreated back into the theatre. That would pretty much sums up my day in the Casablanca theatre – panic attacks backstage and panic attacks outside by the stage door. Back and forth – trying to find the better solution. There was none.
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