Photos from June 4, 2014, our last event of season 2.
Our last reading & open mic of Season Two was a tumult of beauty, fun, profundity, song, humour. And character -- the people, the sheer human diversity with no fear of letting loose. The dogs were out and running. Some may have noticed, some not, perhaps depending upon how sensitive were their eyes and ears, their hearts. Or how desensitized. Who they were. Where they sat. If and when they got up and read. And what. And the eyes that played on theirs, shining or with tears or anger. Anxious eyes. Eyes brimming with care. There was love there in the room, bubbling from one table, from another. The room filled quickly this time, through the piano and song, and then the mighty words came, the flawless words, words recited, read, held out for tasting, sung so purely from Cheryl’s lungs, the quiet words crossing each other above the emptied plates and glasses of wine, words drifting out the open back of the terrace into the cool night.
Our last reading & open mic of Season Two was a tumult of beauty, fun, profundity, song, humour. And character -- the people, the sheer human diversity with no fear of letting loose. The dogs were out and running. Some may have noticed, some not, perhaps depending upon how sensitive were their eyes and ears, their hearts. Or how desensitized. Who they were. Where they sat. If and when they got up and read. And what. And the eyes that played on theirs, shining or with tears or anger. Anxious eyes. Eyes brimming with care. There was love there in the room, bubbling from one table, from another. The room filled quickly this time, through the piano and song, and then the mighty words came, the flawless words, words recited, read, held out for tasting, sung so purely from Cheryl’s lungs, the quiet words crossing each other above the emptied plates and glasses of wine, words drifting out the open back of the terrace into the cool night.