MASKS

Greek theatre revolved around masks, sound amplifiers, character definers, wordless demons whom all could relate to, whatever the language;

Motion was the scarecrow's motor, driving it through the chorus sound waves, getting them people sitting on the marble semi circular steps to roll along the rhythm as stalks within a field played with by the winds of that present, presence, pretense;

Greeks people were all made out from bits and pieces from all around their fragmented landscape, morsels from all those nascent cultures worshipping all kinds of deadly deities, each located around the inner sea, the Mediterranean, land of the Middle;

They all were the middle, so much that a greek citizen could not be defined, delineated through a list of physical specs;

Within those days crowds, a greek blended so easily because in fact, a greek was but a blending of all what made each civilisation such an haven for a specific range of Gods, usually a one weaving its people into a blood tapestry.