A Present/The Present

I’m feeling super present recently.

I might be a little hungover. I intentionally drank too much last night. I was out with Dave and our dear friend Kisa. We saw and listened but mostly felt the music from Shawn Randall’s Symphonics Live last night. It was transcendent. We transcended. I drank more to sustain the high of the music. We laughed the whole way home.

The Mad Ones put on a show called Untitled Bio Pic at the New Ohio last week, and Ali and I went to see it. It was touch and go well into the afternoon as to whether I’d have child care so I could get to the show, but in the end it worked out. I went to the show. There was something real and lasting yet entirely temporary about this show. It was like being being blasted with the light of a super nova for just a second, then wanting to run through the city on my wedge shoes, arms out behind me like my son the super hero running through the grass.

Feeling expressed. Feeling expressive.

Opening my email perchance to find new music, the soundtrack for my show Radio Mara Mara unfolding one mp3 at a time. Kaylin Clinton, Stacy Rock, Grace McLean, Brief View of the Hudson, Mayday Radio, Mayisha, and more to come: Duv & Grace Kalambay, Jasme Kelly, Jimmy Pravasilis composing a set of lyrics I wrote. Walking this city in the heat, with this soundtrack.

Rehearsing for Radio Mara Mara. Adjusting. Editing. Fixing. Changing. Scotch tape. Paper mâché. Motorizing. Building props one bit of armature wire, cheesecloth, and shredded paper pulp at a time. Layering in newspaper, paper sacks from flour, and my son’s drawings and paintings into the pieces. Feeling a little Kurt Schwitters about it.

My son asks me if I have a present for him when I get home. I leave early for work, get home after a late rehearsal. Kiss him while he’s sleeping. Try to coordinate with Dave, with the babysitter, suddenly realizing why it’s been so hard to potty train my son: because the real trouble is trying to potty train his life. He asks me if he can come out to see the music show with us. I tell him someday I’ll take him to everything. Meaning it. I want him to feel at home in this city, I want him to feel ownership of it. I want all the children of this city to feel that way. This city is yours kids, just say so, say it loud enough for us to know it.

Trying to make it go. Trying to make it all go at once, when my foot can’t reach the brakes and I don’t actually know how to drive.

2 thoughts on “A Present/The Present

  1. Sometimes, Libby, you just drive and drive and drive (forget that you don’t know how)
    I’d love to read/listen? to Mara Mara

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