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Culture Lust by Angela Carone

Photo by Chelsea D. Whitmore

When I first moved to San Diego four years ago from Atlanta, Georgia, I was often homesick.  I'd call my friend Kelly to whine about how it never rains in San Diego.  My rants would go something like this:  "How does anyone get any reading done here?  My New Yorkers are piling up and taunting me. When do you get to curl up on the couch and watch the entire Godfather trilogy on Bravo?  It's always so damn sunny and everyone's constantly outside enjoying nature.  It's incredibly disturbing!"

I longed for rain.  Particularly, the southern downpour I'd experienced during my eight years in Georgia -- confident, merciless rain with thunder and crackling lightening.  The already lush landscape of the south would glisten in its aftermath and I would emerge from my apartment recharged from a lazy day of reading.  I've since adjusted to the quality of life that comes with steady sunshine and the occasional sprinkle storm, but I've never forgotten the nesting and intimacy you get with a rainy day.

The title of Richard Greenberg's 1998 play Three Days of Rain , a finalist for the Pulitzer Prize and currently on stage at Compass Theater (formally 6th at Penn), refers to three pivotal days of rain in one young architect's life.  In a play about the desire to find answers, those three rainy days come to symbolize our failure at ever really knowing the mind and heart of others.  Our knowledge is often clouded by our assumptions, which are quick to surface when our desire to know is strong. Three Days of Rain is beautifully written, with artful phrasing ("exquisite perversity") and plenty of wit.  My favorite line was definitely "being in a good mood is not the same as being a moron."  Classic.

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