The letter is still poised in my hand, wrapped around my metro card. Addressed with my name. A little brown envelope inviting my attention. I sense excitement and curiosity growing in my body the longer I stand here, gripping the train sway. I open it....
There are some memories we allow to flood in. Birthdays, graduation, the first time you met your partner, special memories with special friends. But there are others which we push outside the ‘metaphorical room’ we build up in our minds. Closing the door, we put a chair up under the the handle, locking out the unpleasant experiences with a firm left-turn whilst trying to continue peacefully through life. But like the unwanted room service merely doing its duty, those are the very memories which will just keep knocking. And you, the rightful key holder haven’t got round to doing your laundry yet.
I find myself in two parallel worlds. One of simplicity, light and yoga and the other of a performer, sequins, entertainment and night. So where is the meeting point?
There is one situation in which I enjoy not understanding anything at all.
We gathered there, 20 women, from all around the world on the night of the eclipse.