Tag

Personal Stories

An Audience of One

By | Essays

I am being watched by an audience of one.
A warm night breeze blows off the desert and brushes my cheek, touches my flags, as they slide past my arms, my legs, my face. The only music is from the palms murmuring in the wind, far above me as I flag, as I perform.

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A Question of Community

By | Essays

Too often, (and it is not a judgment) what we call a community is defined by who we air kiss hello at the clubs before doing our thing on the floor or stage. We do share a common thread, we flag or fan. But is that a community?

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