I watched the movie The Fall again just now...

I think... This sort of thing is what I mean to convey...

Bright, vibrant, happy colors. But something darker underneath the circus surface...

Little details that aren't meant to be noticed but when noticed are in their own right the most beautiful.

Circus arts are certainly colorful...

But my experience in more of a performance art sense hasn't been so wildly colored...

But it is by no means dull~

Today would have been out Matinee~

I wonder how our lighting would have been...

How the rain would have turned out looking...

Would I have messed up my solo?

Would anyone notice?

I miss it very much.

Opening night

Tonight would have been opening night.

It's 7 and in an hour i would have been performing.

Expecting the unexpected is the hardest thing.

An injury to one of my team prevented this show...

I don't know what opening night feels like...

Are there butterflies?

All I see is print paste and string...

Between branches and shadow there is a warm peering light, a dappled light. Like underwater except the surface isn't transparent.

A contortion of light and body.

To be free and on a trapeze is to be unable to move from that fixed point, yet to be high enough that no one can touch you.

Before an audience, you are a god. They can't imagine having the courage to do what you do.

You exhilarate them like a spot of dappled light through a tree's shadow on a chilled spring afternoon.

They fear for your fall for you. You need not fear because you are surefooted but they go cold and still with anticipation when you suddenly fall backwards. They look at the floor for you but you are hanging my your ankles.

Toying with them is what the world is worth, like the sun behind a cloud.

And then you go about standing up.

And centripetal doesn't want you to have anything to do about that unless you're in that sweet spot in the exact center. But your weight shifted a bit to the left and suddenly you're lunging and your spin is dwindling until you can stand straight again.

It's about equivalent to thinking you're going to go bring your friend a cake with some other friends but then you're told that you aren't invited. So you spend the rest of the day feeling nauseatingly lonely.

When you're at the top, you can be the only one there.

The color of flight and the fall...

What would that color be?

Of the sky?

Which sky?

Morning sun? In the rain? In the haze of summer morning light? In the bright unsaturated winter light? Through my window? Or on the other side of the building in shadow?

Afternoon light?

Dusk?

When the sun is red before rain in the summer?

Warm rain?

Night? The purest navy black?

The cloud coloration before it snows?

The kind where you can't look up at the sky without water falling in your eye so you never know the color?

Black? The void of all light?

White? The origin of light and color?