Tonight marks the second performance of I Didn't Cry- the one-woman show based on Sergia's sister--falling in love, growing up fast and dying young at the hands of the AIDS epidemic.
The show really reminded me why it is so important to remember history-- to hold as a foundational element of action- present and future.
As I am researching and speaking with directors and artists involved with the AIDS Floor here at Highways, sadness strikes, genuinely, for the first time. Like a slap in the face, from the last moments of Sergia's Piece, I feel this awful sickness.
Fighting for those lost with acts of art, storytelling, demonstrating, The Floor breaths like a character always present in the space.
I'm creating a piece to remember this creation as the formative presence it was and is. I'm hoping this can be like a leaf for the floor's roots- so visitors can breath it in.
Time to go fold some programs, welcome the evening with the orange sky. Intimacy-- birthing from the red-walled, light strung lobby--promises mysterious textures for the coming hours...