In January, having feasted, we sleep. Lent is bear hibernation time. I sleep sandwiched between the cat and dog, the dream protectors. Because of their gentle snoozy safety the boogey-man can’t get me. No anxiety ridden dreams of whining ex, empty bank account, my own incompetence, American gun violence, dragon mother, etc can get to me while I have those two furry heads next to my body. Every night we play tag to see who gets to bed first, the dog gazes longingly at me, or looking like an Egyptian queen the cat channels the dog out of her basket, and we all just zonk out, strewn around the bedclothes. Sleep to me has always been the big escape, the synthetic alcohol, the placebo drug to an awol void. And if I overdose on sleep, I spiral into depression.
In February, we know the month is short. We know we can wait it out. It’s like getting a few facial hairs permanently removed. You think, better get this done now before I am 80 and look like a goat, besides it’s a quick pull. If Chinese New Year falls in February (not this year), it uses up half the month and we all like this. Year of the rooster, and I wonder if I still could find some gluten free, main ingredients green bean flour and sugar, new year’s cookies.
In March we could be in for a warm or cold surprise. I was given a little work, nice title, but there was no job. In fact there was no success plan attached to the job, the job said: “You Will Never Achieve This” and then I held on to the position for a year and a half until I got to turn it in, sort of cooked a light pink à point color, and doubtless it will be back to the original dingy grey color quite soon. It was fairly apparent that I should have renounced it as soon as I got it, but I held on two winters to the moot beige sweater. You never know in March, spring could be coming with warm lilac days or perhaps a cold snap will delay our travel plans. Better keep the sweater in a bag with the mothballs for a couple of seasons. But in the meantime I thought of something better to do this year:
I was looking at the drawing for the flyer. “Do you like it?” I asked Annemarie.
Annemarie was looking at the score, music by Daan van den Hurk and lyrics by me, “What is it about, Persephone?”
“It’s about how you feel inside dreaming about a future lover.”
Willow, a two women show that asks the question “Do you dare to love again?”
Persephone Abbott sopraan
Annemarie van Prooijen viool
Regie: David Prins
5 maart 2017 15:00
Locatie: Zolderkamertjesklassiek @ Pand P
5614 HL Eindhoven
5614 HL Eindhoven
Entrée 10 euro