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What Makeup is For

Charlotte Salomon and Alfred Wolfsohn. Strolling through the park in Berlin.

Her mentor? Her lover? Perhaps both.

The theatre may do her justice. Short life. Ending in Auschwitz. With child. Unborn.

Playing my role.

The one I was asked to play. Was it anticipatory empathy that made me shave my head just before being asked? He was not (I was not) sent to the chambers.

Will the stage mentee still love him without the curly locks of mentor, perhaps lover?

This is what makeup is for. Both in reality and theatre. Creating the fantasy.
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