juggle and fall.
i feel like a lot of the things we've been juggling lately have dropped, but gently, like on a rug, and without spilling. charles and cornell, two jhouse residents who i've really loved in their time here passed over the weekend, and it feels like a sad release. still, a release.
saturday, i was lucky enoughto be part of this performance art piece(yeah i know what you think of when you hear that word, but it was completely free of any blood, bullets or orgies)by oliver herring. it was at the hirshhorn museum, in the smithsonian, and called TASK and so for 7 hours, sixty complete strangers(including me) performed random tasks that we wrote for each other in the sculpture garden of the hirshhrin while folks watched. it sounds stupid, sort of, and it looked a little weird when you walked up to it, but it was actually really interesting how community formed, how our energy waxed and waned, how the cycles of living and dying worked their way into the little pool of envelopes from which we were drawing our tasks. so anyway, i'm thankful for getting to be a part of it, and just a little something else for art school resumes and whatnot. after that, one of the other lutheran volunteer houses had a party and it was just so good and cozy and chill and just right.
anyway, today it is bright out; it feels like spring, not summer, not winter, just spring, and the birds always start singing around 4:30 am. so i think our shadows will fall down next to us and we can just keep moving.
saturday, i was lucky enoughto be part of this performance art piece(yeah i know what you think of when you hear that word, but it was completely free of any blood, bullets or orgies)by oliver herring. it was at the hirshhorn museum, in the smithsonian, and called TASK and so for 7 hours, sixty complete strangers(including me) performed random tasks that we wrote for each other in the sculpture garden of the hirshhrin while folks watched. it sounds stupid, sort of, and it looked a little weird when you walked up to it, but it was actually really interesting how community formed, how our energy waxed and waned, how the cycles of living and dying worked their way into the little pool of envelopes from which we were drawing our tasks. so anyway, i'm thankful for getting to be a part of it, and just a little something else for art school resumes and whatnot. after that, one of the other lutheran volunteer houses had a party and it was just so good and cozy and chill and just right.
anyway, today it is bright out; it feels like spring, not summer, not winter, just spring, and the birds always start singing around 4:30 am. so i think our shadows will fall down next to us and we can just keep moving.