There were a hundred of trees in the middle of the dance. 'I choose life' she added. Between a branch and a swing of the arm, two worlds pop up. The one world that sprung out of a gifting of a dress that was too much all the things and needed another day and another and actually many more but fortunately there was this gift that flew out of a line in the park with the many branch stretches. Can you imagine three creatures slipping out of a picnic 'Ohh we're going home to nap' and then as your are arriving home much later - first there was the car ride with Lucy's dancing shoes on the lap and the windows rolled down - there are no naps and no creatures and as you are in the middle of editing a video with three colorful patches and amorphous shadows there is this brown paper bag that just slips in the door with the squeeze of the doorknob and with the unrolling of the paper package there's the all the things dress saying 'Hello!'? Hello pink hello blue hello blue pink button patch patch zigzag ladder sidewaybuttons colar colours. The second world started with the finding of a rack with the clips red, blue, orange and green that made the most amazing sounds hoovering over the bushes next to the sidewalk. The orange and green parted their ways and met like a tiger, like a snail in the streets of Rio de Janeiro and she who was dancing while choosing life was seven years old and the arms rhyming with the branches sung I am the silence after the passing of a car .

did you come for distance and really want proximity? Can you find the tiny, did you lose it? Is it in your pocket? Pat your pocket, is it there? There is a red telephone, it's ringing, answer it. The administrators of nonsense transfer your call to the drawer by the stove in the kitchen. Look, you can crawl inside a ladle. Somersault shaped. You'll spring into the soup. Is it delicious? We made it with our appetites. Wet sidewalk and pool noodle. Lost socks. Hats hats hats hats hats. Two pairs of pants. A thousand pancakes. Autumn-- you missed it. You had two summers instead. Time travel. Going back. You, you-you-you-you-you, and you and you. And you. But you're here in the soup... it's a dance-soup, it folds around the curve of the map. Twirls. Splashes. Reaches. Carries. It's blue. It's electric. It hurts the way a perfect song hurts. You are the perfect song. You don't have to change anything-- the world is changing for you, look. Whole worlds inside this ladle, holding you.

again!!!!