A Rolling Rock arrived at its destination only to be refused; it was the first time I had ever bought a drink for someone. The beautiful dancing muse walked in my direction with beer in tote and smiled as he grew nearer. He said, "Thanks, but I don't drink beer; I'm Phil." Phil and I have been soul sisters for 14 years now; from that first late night conversation on art as a form of expression, he has been a mentor. He dances, wait. . . he expresses his soul when he moves.
Sometimes artist lose direction and need a helping hand; reasons unknown. Fragile creatures who are driven by idea, situation or expression who are squashed like a gnat with one swoop of the hand. Lately, we have both needed a helping hand; us Midwest folk are full of ideals and a kind of stubbornness that gets in the way. With each others help, out came the albums of our past and together we reminded each other of how we began; remembrances of the way we smiled, dressed and presented ourselves to the world. Though our creativity may be buried, it doesn't mean it's dead. With each picture we pointed out and demanded each other to not forget; good or bad, it is a memory to be cherished.
I want to see Phil dance again; it has been a long time. I call him out when he tries to give me an excuse; we can do that for one another. The medicine is usually very hard to swallow, BUT it is always necessary. Expression is very important and everyone must find their way; it's not easy. But, I do promise that once you start, it brings nothing but joy.
Phil's gonna dance and I cannot wait to tell you how, when and where; I warn you though. . . he will be like a phoenix rising from the ash and will leave you with an overabundance of hope and love!
"Kiss the day goodbye, and point me towards tomorrow; we do what we have to do!" Show the world a musical is real!!
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