i walked the art last night with the dancer lady. it felt like a great evening to be alive in portland, maine. we saw people dressed up in bizarre costumes, beautiful photographs and paintings and giant wood block prints, high school kids swordfighting and selling vegan cupcakes, fire jugglers juggling fire with deliberately bored expressions on their faces, and heard music floating down from the heavens.
the dancer had an epiphany about the zine she is working on when she saw these "mt. rushmore" paintings. here she is, reflected in teddy roosevelt:
i told her this guy in the ruffly pink panties was going to eat an actual lightbulb, but did she believe me?
see what i'm saying? as i told her, we were lucky he didn't next demonstrate his ability to hammer nails into his nose.
not only that, but walking up and down congress street was almost like one of those dreams that feature a cast of everyone you've ever known. if i had run into someone i knew from high school, i would've suspected i was dreaming for sure.
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