By Troy N. Diggs
In medieval times, a renaissance man was someone who could "do it all". Christopher Curry seems to fit that bill as a successful print model, personal trainer, and Web designer. Chris's success comes from lots of hard work and devotion to what he does, and in a recent online interview, Chris shared his thoughts and feelings about his life.
Article by Patrick Martin
"Measure your life in love...."
Most people who have heard about Rent have likewise heard vaguely of a man named Jonathan Larson, the show's sole creator. In fact, more often than not, an article or feature regarding Rent makes more than a passing mention of the librettist/songwriter/lyricist, who passed away the night before his masterpiece had its first public previews in its final form. The heartwarming story of Rent's success is simultaneously the tragic story of Jonathan Larson's death and the emotional story of Jonathan Larson's life.
By Jeff Walsh
Rent has changed the lives of many of its audience members. Its messages of hope and life-affirming spirit are felt and remembered by everyone who has ever attended the show.
Anthony Rapp, the only openly queer cast member, serves as the narrator for the rock musical. Prior to Rent, he starred in such successful movies as Adventures in Babysitting, Dazed and Confused, Twister (look fast!), but Rent has occupied his life since he performed as Mark in the 1994 Theater Workshop version of Rent. He also has the difficult task of portraying the character most associated with Jonathan Larson, the show's creator who died the night before the first public preview Off-Broadway.
I have not forgotten about Sam. I look down every time i see her. She probably thinks i am scared of her or something but really, i am scared that she won't like me back. Every day, I daydream of being with her. I dream that a year from now, i will send this message:
I feel that this past week has been a blur. I have been so out of it lately. Am I tired? Sick? Or do i have crippling depression knowing that no one knows who i truly am. Sometimes, i don't even know who i am.
I told one person that I am bisexual and already, it is backfiring. No, he hasn't told anyone but he almost talked about it in front of my other friend who is has proved himself untrustworthy on a number of occasions.
She pulls me out into the hall outside of the cafeteria.
“Do you like me?” she asks
I dart my head left and right while blushing uncontrollably. Partly because the love of my life just talked to me, but also because i was embarrassed “Shhh!”
She stares at me, confused.
“Okay,” i start to whisper to her “I have a killer crush on you,” this makes her blush.
“So, you are gay too?” she whispers smiling
I don't know what to make of the situation. It is like all of my secrets are pouring out.
I don’t think I mentioned this in my last journal entry, but I’m homeschooled. I’m part of a local group of homeschoolers, and tonight the teens of the group were supposed to go roller skating, but it got cancelled because not enough people were interested in going. So, I thought I’d make another journal entry.
Hey again. It's Jazzy again. I just wanted to say that I have a Youtube channel for my disease. I doubt that any of you know what my disease is like. It affects millions of people. You just don't know. I'm having surgery on May 10th. I wish more people would help our disease just like cancer. We hurt too and we suffer. So please support people with my disease.
Go to www.ccfa.org and visit my page on Youtube. I think it's www.youtube.com/BattleWithUC
As promised this time I want to write about Dalton, and of my brothers he's really my boyfriend. This one isn't going to be fun for me to write.
When third grade started Chase and I were in separate classes because everything was done my last name. A-L and M-Z was the dividing point I think? We never saw each other except for on the bus and at home, but that helped us have our own friends.
The playground looks broken in
December's plastic moonlight.
The basketballs have turned
to orange ghosts on the court
and the purple clouds above
resemble one-eyed teddy bears, smoking cigars.
You hold my hand between zombie oak trees
and stutter through a Michael Jackson song.
"Ben, the two of us.." you whisper,
then press your lips against mine.
It's surreal but I swallow your laughter
and stick my hand inside your jacket,
making you gasp as I trace
your shy muscles.
Boy, I want to scare off all
the bad memories that still
linger in this park;
the jump ropes and