Yesterday, Beatrix and I were lucky enough to attend a performance of The Story of Crow Boy at Heart of the Beast. I'm sorry to say HOBT has not been on my mind much lately (besides, of course, May Day). It's been far too long since I have been able to settle down in a seat in that wonderful theatre, with it's true theatre-paint smell and feel, with a real whiff of socialism thrown in. Beatrix chose seats in the front row, and it's been awhile since I have also sat so close as to feel part of a play.
It was a magical afternoon. The show is just a little old for Beatrix (recommended age 11+) — mainly because, well, let's just say we have not had a lot of family discussions about things like Hiroshima yet. But Beatrix has been raised on imagery, and especially on puppets (thank you, Open Eye!), and she really enjoyed the performances and the sense of magical storytelling. We left knowing we would have to find some of Taro Yashima's books. It left Beatrix with a lot of questions, and some answers she came up with on her own. And it left me with a renewed sense of how much I can rely on the beautiful imagery HOBT creates to make me think in different ways. Like I said, it's been far too long.
Highly recommended. Go see it.
You'll remember that last week Patrick and I wet to see June by Savage Umbrella. I'm still thinking a lot about that show, and as I mentioned to several people last week, I want a lot of people I know to go see it because I want to discuss it with them!
Late last night, Patrick and I went to our friend M's birthday party, which she held at a yoga studio on the Lyn-Lake area. We were tired, and didn't really want to go out, but M means a lot to me, and I could not miss celebrating with her. It could not have been a more perfect night. M looked wonderful, people collaborated on great food and drink, there was incredible burlesque by Sassy von Straddles, and wonderful music and dancing and conversation — it really was All That.
And at one point during the evening, I looked around and realized this was a modern-day version of the community that the bar in June had created. Very different in 2016 than in the 1950s, but in some ways very much the same. And I was so, so proud of everyone in that room/group.
I can't separate the art I experience from the life I lead. And I would not have it any other way.