The garden is a repository of masks, dreams, memories, and lichen-encrusted frying pans.
Madness string 1747
A darkened auditorium with 264 silent people in the seats. on the stage, me, sitting on a stool, lit by a spotlight, the only light in the theatre. I hold up a photo of my cat, ten people applaud, two or three hold up photocopies of the same photo, the rest do nothing, watching, waiting.