Pain is beautiful

*** Beware the spoilers if you have seen Phantom of the Opera.***

As a writer and filmmaker, it is my job to tell a story and capture moments and share them. Those moments are funny or dramatic or sad, but the moment needs to be real.

Sometimes those moments are painful and yet when that pain is honest, it can be breath-takingly beautiful.

My latest obsession has been listening to Broadway show tunes, which then lead me to watching some on Netflix. That was where I watched the 25th anniversary performance of Phantom of the Opera.

Years ago I had been fortunate to see it in Los Angeles with Michael Crawford as the Phantom. I admit that there had been parts that I hadn't understood, so I was glad to watch it again. From a purely story point of view, its not as strong as some others, but the music is amazing. I've listened to the soundtrack countless times over the years. In the last several days, I've listened to the performance multiple times as well.

It was while I was watching the truly tortured Phantom and his desire to be loved, even just be touched by another human being, that I was completely brought to tears. Now those that know me, know that I cry at everything, but this was different. 

Yes, it was gut wrenching, but in those moments that his pain was mesmerizing and beautiful. I'm sure there will be those who disagree and I'm okay with that.

Watching the Phantom change before your eyes is incredible. He is angry, in love with Christine and wants her to choose between him and Raoul. When Christine finally understands his loneliness and pain, she kisses the Phantom. His expression is a combination of unadulterated shock and pure bliss. He realizes that he can never be with her and sets both Raoul and Christine free.

His cry of "Go! Go now and leave me!"is haunting. Everything he had, everything he wanted was slipping through his fingers.

Who among us hasn't felt lost, abandoned and without hope? In that moment, we are brought into his agony, and we truly see  behind his emotional mask. He has nothing left, the only choice he has remaining is to disappear, leaving behind only his physical mask.

I was no longer just watching as an audience member, I was watching as a story teller. I was watching as someone who wanted to capture that pain.  I've written several scripts, but one in particular, I held nothing back, I let the pain out and took off my mask. It was absolutely terrifying, but I needed to let go of the mask that I hide behind.

The Phantom used his pain to create music. 

Its time to realize that my pain has made me.  I don't have to fear it.  It's time to channel my pain and create beauty.