I still can’t pinpoint the beauty of recitation because when I see it being done, I am always left speechless. I can see a storyteller enshrouding his or herself with the character that the writer depicted, but not being possessed by the embodiment. There is this inexplicably perfect balance between maintaining one’s uniqueness while taking on someone else’s art. Perhaps this is what is great about literature and art in general–these invisible ties and bonds keep communication afloat and voices multiplied.