Sleep no more.

I finally saw Sleep No More tonight. At one point during the night—watching four of the dancers snake back and forth over the bar—I started crying under my mask. It got all warm and humid and I had to lift it to wipe the tears away. The crying was unexpected; I wasn’t sad, and what I was watching wasn’t sad. It was that the deepest parts of me were being satisfied in a way I didn’t know I craved. The nonlinearity, the darkness, the fragmentation…it felt like truth. Somehow, through image, sound, light and movement, my bedrock shifted.

Now I know more of what is possible. Now there’s even less time to sleep.

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