blackbirds, sparrows, magpies, crows
residual grief from my dreams swells in the corner like the chamber of a rubbery black bagpipe played by a shadowy self
my child self once turned and played by a stage. now i recreate the uncertainty and loss of balance, external interference long internalized
i have a strong (sometimes called weak) eye/i, protecting me by stopping the focus, creating a wash of indistinctness over those around me. my eye/i longs to see things closely, at a distance uncomfortable to most people, except babies. my eye/i carries something of an arrested scream, which is why laughing is indispensible.
the faces moving and taking shape around/through me are also masks. it is ok. pulcinella masks.
Jacques Lecoq is said to have said: we all are clowns, we all think we are beautiful, clever, and strong whereas we all have our weaknesses, our ridiculous side, which can make people laugh when we allow it to express itself.
the voice is also easy to mask. read this aloud and you will hear what i mean. you will hear what i mean. you hear what i will mean. i mean what you will hear. will you hear what i mean?