the hushed crowd nestles into the sweet spot of their seats. the lights are dimming. thin cables pull the chandelier up into the recessed ceiling, there are muffled coughs amongst the quieted din of lingering chatter.
we call it the prelude, the baited breath, the held moment.
everything sublime in this subdued and near-noiseless atmosphere. everything could happen; an instrument could fall to the floor, a child could cry out, a crackling sneeze could blaze through the peace.
but nothing happens but the shared anticipation. we are on the precipice of amazing things, and all are constantly awaiting the lift of the baton. we do not always need to see this physical signifier, and when well-prepared, each following and evolving moment becomes an electric feedback loop.
we are seeking the soft gradient, the beauty of the fade-in, and an even dispersal of this potential energy. closing my eyes, and for the briefest of pauses, i feel the heat of encroaching joy, and the presence of absolute satisfaction.
remember to breathe, blink, resolve conflict, make space for all ideas, shake hands, share blankets, comfort one another, love, live..