3 Best A Thing Of Beauty Monologues

A Thing Of Beauty (Amy)

Category: Play Role: Amy From: A Thing Of Beauty

Amy says

We don’t make art. Art makes itself through us. But we have to be open to let the muse in. I mean the state of being where it’s not just us doing it. Time passes and you don’t notice. It’s like you’re in a trance. You come out and you feel like you were led on forces beyond you and just touched God. It doesn’t happen every time. For some people almost never. But it’s the reason to make something. It’s the dirty secret of why people are really artists. It’s the chance you get to commune. That high you get from creation when you’re with the muse . . . Or with God or whatever you want to call it. And you come out of it and you’re like how did I do that? It couldn’t have been me. It must have been someone else.

I think athletes know about it too. Scientists. Mathematicians. They all know what it is to get in the zone. It’s just that for me, the way to that thing is through painting … Or sculpting. But the muse won’t come if you’re thinking about your critics. It’s why Fred doesn’t read reviews. It’s why artists drink. That shuts up the critical voices for a little while, at first, but it destroys you other ways I guess. I don’t know. I’m not an alcoholic. But I am addicted to making art with my muse. If you could only access that all the time– but you can’t. Or at least I can’t. But that’s the flaw of criticism.

You think the artist is creating something for you. But she’s not. She’s feeding her addiction. The art is just the byproduct of the process. The art is for the artist, not for the people.

A Thing Of Beauty (Arthur)

Category: Play Role: Arthur From: A Thing Of Beauty

Arthur says

Atrocious. Juvenile. Bland. Obvious. Derivative. There is no skill whatsoever. It’s an imitation of other hacks rehashed to make this hack look less of a hack. I’m offended that I was even asked to come to this event. The maker of this dreck has single-handedly devalued what it is to be a human while proving his parents right. He should have been a dentist. At least then it would be clear that his intent to cause us all pain and misery was not accidental. It makes me want to do physical harm to myself. I would rather slit my wrists than have to look at it. Please stab me. Please stab me to death so I can get this image out of my retinas. I just want this nightmare to be over. And I do mean nightmare. I don’t speak in hyperbole. Someone should break his arms so he can never do anything like this ever again. Perhaps his legs too, lest he try to paint with his toes. Better still, he should be shot in the head and his organs harvested to repay any persons of sub-par intelligence who may have at one time purchased his art. No, not “art.” “Work?” Not “work.” What can we say? Scribbling? Leavings? Ejaculate? It makes my eyes hurt.

A Thing Of Beauty (Fred)

Category: Play Role: Fred From: A Thing Of Beauty

Fred says

I know you don’t want to pick up the phone because you know it’s me, but I really wish you would. Marie? It’s your father, Marie. I mean, I understand. I do. It’s just, sometimes when I stop to get something to drink–No, not that kind of drink–I don’t -not now–but some water or something. I go hours and hours without eating sometimes but you have to stop now and again. But what I was saying, whenever I stop working these days, you’re the only think I think of. If I’m honest with myself, most of my work is about you. I want to hear from you. I want to hear your voice. Maybe you’ll call me or maybe next time I call, you’ll pick up. I won’t be around forever. I’m not dying. That’s not what this call is about, but I’m not young anymore either. I was hoping -anyway, give me a call if you can. I talk to your mom sometimes. We’re talking again. She says you’re doing really well. She’s proud. I’d like to be proud too if you’ll let me. Call me if you…

(The phone beeps signaling the end of the message.)