Blood rush, heart strings, banging drums

As the tips of my hair flee from its roots and blood rushes into my ears, I come to the realization that there is a small crowd of young men circled around me. Now not for an instant should you think that it is simply me upside down that is of interest. Modern day alchemists turn the world upside down too often for anyone to notice that. It’s the drumming, the guitar, the singing, and these odd aerial fabrics all juxtaposed into a walkway where these folks just happened to walk through.

I have been fever dreaming the past few nights of being airborne, dreaming of forgetting what few tricks I’ve learned on fabrics. Dreaming a trip to Mexico, dia de los muertos mourning with trapeze and sleuthing a week of locked away memory. On the waking side of life I have a fear of losing my strength. So when the sun circled into my life this morning with it’s fiery orb, and my musical friend rolled into town from the South I knew it was time to gratify the impulse once again.

The height between concrete and the top of my fabric is roughly 14 feet from the ground. The weather is just warm enough to be bare footed and not frozen. And as I am reveling in this moment, there is music traveling through the air of this corridor which has been co-opted as a studio. Those who are not armed with an instrument or standing behind SLR cameras unassumingly are simply trying to encode or extract a memory that is a bit out of their ordinary experience.

I feel favored by fortune as I begin to remember all that which I have forgotten.

The sunlight, the song, the dance.


One response to “Blood rush, heart strings, banging drums

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