A Muse of Fire...

...is how I will always remember Melissa Lynch.

Seriously, the girl was so passionate about everything you could almost feel sparks crackling in the air around her.  Physically, she was very pretty.  Pale skin, shining dark hair, a slight frame and a winning smile, but her eyes were what got you.  There was an intensity in them that was almost frightening.  It was as though she was about to lock horns with a stampeding bull - and end up with steak for dinner.  

It was one of her trademarks, that passion.

That same brand of passion didn't flow through all the actors I had met during my time at Clarion University.  Although there were many, many talented, adept, charming, brilliant people, that intense fire seemed reserved only for a few.  Miranda Scopel, for one.  She was one of those people whose fashion sense was from another era, who lived like she was dying, who could make any topic sound intriguing and maybe even a little scandalous.  Trevor Southworth was another.  He was another creature when he was onstage.  Almost inhuman, in the best possible way.  My God, these people were just...fireballs.  Not only good actors with good directorial and design instincts (there were a lot of people like that), but just so much energy and passion that sometimes you just wanted to sit them in a comfy chair with a blanket and a cup of chamomile tea to quiet them a bit.

I loved these people.  I always wanted to be one.  Melissa was one.

She was one of those versatile actresses who never got stuck in a certain type of role.  She played the innocent Wendy Darling in Peter Pan as adeptly and sincerely as she played the quiet, confident King of England in Henry V.  She had mastered numerous dialects and could whisk you to the hard-pressed streets of Brooklyn, New York, a southern plantation or the foggy, chilly coast of Ireland - with just a single phrase.

She was loud.  She was opinionated.  She loved to laugh and cause a scene.  She could be as proper or as unladylike as you could imagine, depending on her mood.  But there was nothing in the world she seemed to love more than the moment when she found her character...when she found the gesture she had been seeking, the tone of voice, the position, the stance, the motivation, the mood.  It was fascinating to watch, and an honor to be a part of.  I directed and acted with Melissa in several productions during the time we spent at Clarion, and if I were to honestly name the highlights of my educational career, she would be in the top two: directing Broadway Bound and acting in Henry V.  It was a thrill to pour my talent and passion into a performance with her, and I will never forget those opportunities I had.

Melissa went on to be among the few Acting graduates I knew who found success as an actor outside of college.  She returned to her hometown of Philadelphia and was building a career in reputable local venues when her life ended just a few hours ago.  She was involved in a car accident.  She wasn't even thirty.

She will be greatly missed.

The true magic of theatre is not in the set or the lighting or the music.  That takes talent and technology, and it is, of course, always a marvelous display of the work of the hands and mind of a designer or artist.  But creating a character out of nothing but black words on a white page is a different kind of magic.  It's the magic of the heart that only truly passionate actors ever get to share.  It's a spell woven by an enchantress who wants nothing more than to connect, to feel, to express.  And it's a love song that will spill over into every aspect of a life, even after that life has ended.  

Thank you, Melissa, for captivating us with your passion.  Thank you for reminding us that passion cannot survive without diligence and perseverance, and that passion is worthless without product.  Thank you for the memories that you have woven into our hearts, and for the great talent you shared so proudly and so freely, with those around you.  Thank you, Melissa, and good-bye.

"We are such stuff as dreams are made on, and our little life is rounded with a sleep."