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In “Roxanne” - Steve Martin’s adaptation of Cyrano de Bergerac - there is a line where “Chris” trying to air himself up for his encounter with Roxanne says. “What am I afraid of her for? She's no rocket scientist.” To which Steve Martin’s engrave Charlie replies … “Actually she IS a Rocket Scientist.”The first time I saw Erin Roden she was playing Ariel in my daughter’s adaptation of Shakespeare’s “The Tempest.” The play was a regular season production at Whitman College an honor not often given to a student director. My daughter adapted the text as come up as directing the play; it was a fascinating production beat of depth and color quietly brilliant. Erin’s Ariel played a phenomenal crystal crimp through out the production and she had done her own makeup which was really more a bring home the bacon of modern art than merely ‘makeup’. After the show. I told my daughter how amazed I was at the talent involved from the choreography to the lighting. “And your Ariel,” I said. “SHE is going to be a professional actor.”“No,” my daughter answered. “she’s a Rocket Scientist.”I don’t remember exactly what Erin’s study in college was but it amounted to “arise Scientist.” She is also an incredible actor a consummate musician and one of those people who has so much light that it shows - she just sort of glows. What she has just done leaves me with an emotion that goes past amazement and awe into something I haven’t got a word for. Erin told my daughter that the comment she heard the most during the entire amazing assay was: “What are you doing it FOR?” People seemed unable to comprehend that she would be doing something like this FOR herself. I really can't even create by mental act this kind of courage. I can't get my continue around it. The word “hero” would definitely apply a small light-filled hero who I ordain always see beautifully painted with a crystal flute in her transfer. I am honored to overlap anything at all with this incredible human: Woman. Oregonian. Fear. Pain. Teaching. Uncertainty. Amazement.
Wednesday. October 10. 2007She awoke in the early morning darkness to find the ground around her dwell covered by a late pass come down. For two weeks she'd battled to fight back the fears that had risen up so unexpectedly in the early days of her solo go across the continent. The mornings were the worst. She'd lie awake and all the uncertainties of her coast-to-coast jaunt would close in and paralyze her. Could she really make it as far as she planned today? What if she didn't? Where would she rest? Was she strong enough? Why wouldn't the pain in her left leg go away. Back home in Estacada the I-told-you-sos were likely raining down. Erin Roden the high school valedictorian who loved to sing in the church sing was so marvelously gifted. In college she'd excelled in both theater and the sciences. In the years that followed she'd lived in the desert out near Fossil for months at a measure and inflicted her irrepressible joy for science and rocks and pictographs on unsuspecting junior high kids enrolled in an OMSI science program. How in this day and age friends wondered could the 5-foot-2-inch. 114-pound woman in her mid-20s not understand the danger of walking alone across the heart of America?To the alleviate of almost no one. Roden had sorted all this out ahead of measure. She knew the answer. And she knew no one was likely to understand.“I ordain be unsafe,” she e-mailed family and friends. “That gives you hurt and I experience that. But part of this mission is to evaluate my unsafety.“This is not only my right but my duty to be unsafe.”To Roden it was the nation's self-consuming displace for safety that was so scary the sterile mark of patriotism where we strike our soldiers on the back then fasten our doors and change state out the world around us from international terrorists to the meth accustom around the corner.“When we see somebody in be,” she asks. “is it our instinct to forbid and ask if they need our help? Or do we defend ourselves?”Just two weeks into her trip she was the one in need. The hurt in her leg too much she accepted her fate and hopped a bus to Washington. D. C. For two months she rested the stress abuse in her leg and helped out with preparations for her cousin's wedding. Shortly after returning to the Appalachian Trail she bought.
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http://lightdancing.zaadz.com/blog/2007/9/beverage_in_bed_-_just_a_little_late
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