oh. my. gosh.

if tonight had been a movie
i would have started with the moon
in a shade of gold
this midnight she had her eyes hidden behind
clouds of dark grey, the veil covering all but
the lovely curve of her chin and jawline.
close-up, and follow that curve;
pan out to an unfocused shot
which blends and blurs, green and blue appearing
and flashing white tells you that we’re
focusing in on a tambourine
emblazoned with the emblem of brazil
and the leathered brown hands
shaking, shaking, shaking and slapslapslapping it
the shot fixed in space and rhythm
the metal parts of the tambourine (what are these called?)
dancing a friendly beat

that would be the theme. somehow.

it was one of those experiences where i wanted very much to be a fly on the wall;
the spirit of the room was lively and high
the music went on, and on, because they so loved to play and sing
not necessarily all that well, but they loved it, and they did it together
(our culture distinctly lacks this)

but how would i splice in the layer of anxiety? the tense discomfort of having a socially awkward, unwanted guest clinging like a wart at your elbow? the unfortunate happenstance of meeting someone you know but not very well so you must make the dreaded (shudder) small talk? the unseemly, indiscreet stares from strangers all around? and THEN! to hear your name called out, that you, young woman, be put on display in front of a barful of leering brazilian men, to sing a pathetic translated rendition of a song from their culture—right after having a meal that featured a cream sauce?

i’m not sure how i’d go about that.

but i did get to hear an awesome musician chick whom i’ve admired for a while play at the beginning.