witchcraft raze there are three of them. in a room furnished with threadbare desks and chairs, they sit and listen to their mentor speak. she tells them a drama class will serve as a suitable smokescreen for honing the gifts they've been given. the nascent sorceress tasked with production design is crestfallen. what she fails to see is just how integral her role is to the entire enterprise. she's responsible for creating a world an audience can lose itself in. the lessons are simple enough. to cry on cue, singe your wrist with one flaming fingertip. if levitation gives you pause, cast a spell to transform the stage into a wading pool. should anger overtake you, an afternoon spent in a sensory deprivation tank will calm your restless mind. theatre has always harboured in its histrionic heart something supernatural. why not imbue the lie of performance with a truth only you can know? 251119 what's it to you? who go blather from