Moment of Portland magic

These open mics have been extraordinary. Not just for the material, which has been beautiful and compelling, but for the mix of people performing.

One of the most fascinating pieces of Saturday's open mic was a woman named Moe, who did an original piece about being out on the ocean, commerical fishing in Alaska, alone in her skiff. She's a writer - publishes a zine named after the boots fisherpeople wear, Xtra Tuff.
(And she is in fact performing June 29th at In Other Words).

But the wild thing was that Eric and I decided to venture out of the apartment to play frisbee as the sun was dying down in Unthank Park. And as we were ambling down the sidewalk, a woman on a bike rode up behind us, and as we moved out of the way, she recognized me, and I her. She had lovely things to say about the show- and the experience of the open mic. How parts made her squirm a bit, and also recognize the beauty of their inclusion, despite being uncomfortable. She said, as we went our separate ways, "It's healing work." And that made me feel so good.

It is feckin scary, doing this show. it is hard work and plenty of anxiety, but moments like that, that much appreciated flash of synchronicity, give me courage that we are on the right path, that we are doing necessary work - in the form of naughty play ; )