Limbo.

Here I am again, hovering in the jump between universes. Only this time, it's super-hover because the ground I'm going to land on is yet undecided, and the decision isn't exactly mine to make.

In other words, there is an opportunity in the air that won't be decided upon until the 15th. At that time I will know if I am going to go to Seattle in the next couple of days and begin new circles full of circus and allure or if I am going to go on tour with Vau de Vire for a couple of months. It is maddening. At night I sleep and dream of seagulls.

And having seen the art of manifestation first hand so many times, my favorite pastime has become sitting and holding the image of our house, the one we don't have yet. And when I say 'we' I mean myself, and the Babs and David (the Newlyweds) and John, (His Insufferable Lordship) and Abigail (Lady A). That's right, we're all moving out of state- out of our states of solitude and out of California, and out of North Carolina in their case. Moving all that way to come live together in a 3+ bedroom in the upper left hand corner of these great United States.

It will be interesting, annoying, fun, and sublimely comforting. I can't wait.

I also have a habit of running my silks act over and over in my head, effortlessly, seamlessly unifying all the stuttering parts into a satiny, unified whole that sings. And a new act on hoop that I'm planning to use for the Pink Door, involving a ribbon and some amount of violin with a backbone that is intoxicating.
Any suggestions for music are absolutely welcome! Approximately 4 minutes long, can't use the word "fuck" or "bitches and ho's" and must be addictive.