The brightest part of my day, a love note! in the mail! for me!
A shuffling in the back room just now, is it a cat or a human adjusting their position or is is just a part of the rain sound?
Is it the heat clicking on early this morning, pinging its way towards warmth.
I heard a new song last week and had to cut my hair.
I hear the women of Iran, keening, cutting their hair and singing, their backs toward the camera.
The long strands of hair of the twelve-foot puppet move easy in the breeze, then watched her fly across the water in a speedboat to nowhere. [then explain to the children where she goes next, tell them she’s going to take a long rest in a big cozy bed.]
From my plush seat in the third ring, my body moves involuntarily to the choreography of Symphony in C.
I made a dance in the park in the rain for a friend.
Turns out it was a firetruck with lights flashing underneath the blackout blinds.
Turns out it was Maewyn shuffling around back there, angling to see what was happening outside on the wet street.
Turns out I don’t want to spend my days sending emails or entering calendar invite with zoom links.
It’s twelve-foot puppets for me, it’s giant paper birds flying for me, it’s How Can I Keep From Singing for me, it’s spectacle and wonder and paper and clay and a full orchestra, and woven rugs, and stilt-walking and carrying plants, seeing the strings, and places, please for me.
For me. For me. For me!
I can smell the heat from the radiators now.