I first acknowledged it with embarassment and some degree of shame: "navelgazing, yes, that's what I do." wishing for a broader scope, taller perspective. but gradually I came to own my microscopic, sometimes laser, focus, my command of miniscule terrain: inside of my own head, floating motes, the ways that leaves unfurl. noodling around with little more than belly button lint. if that's what I've got to give, it's yours. with love.
formerly.
otherwise, visually.
also, vox-ually.
I'm stuck behind the scenes as the production opens unexpectedly in the house where I'm staying. I'm sneaking around upstairs in the wings, trying to peek down at the play going on onstage, but every time I get a glimpse, I realize I'm in the lit eyeline of the audience and duck back out of sight. I try to cross to get out of there, but there's no way to stay hidden.
posted by sat @ 4:01 PM
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