September 8, 2009 PM

In reverse.


Walking to and from work we all smile and wave at each other, like you'd imagine it is in a small town. I feel like I'm Jim Carey's character in Pleaseantville. It's a genuine interaction between stilter and unassuming public, a real wave of greeting, and a smile that comes when you're lifted out of the present, but at it's heart it's still something artificial. I'm not actually 8'8". It's like we're both smiling around this mutual recognition that something is not quite right or real.

The reason I like stilting (right now and when I'm being paid at street fairs) is making people smile for real (you can see it in their eyes when it happens) and sometimes even making them laugh. Laughing is so wonderful because it the highest compliment (besides maybe weeping) for a performing artist in physical theatre. It's a mental reaction (triggered in the brain), and also the physical (the ha ha ha in your stomach). When we laugh we're immediately and helplessly lifted out of our thoughts into a very present moment. And then people say stuff like "you made me feel like a kid again for five minutes", and I realize feeling present is something we mostly leave behind as we age. Thanks Anchorage for making me feel like I had a great day at work.

My favorite olefactory momment is when I walk by the windows open above wall height at Snow City Cafe. In the evening, the smell of baked goods wafts by right at my nose height. Tonight I mime offered the girl from Green Connection watering the plants inside if she wanted help. She didn't get it. How come everyone gets to crack tall jokes on me, but I always mess up the delivery?

During the home stretch down "D" Street, a man Indiana Jones hat and a long beard asked me (as usual) "What are you doing?", and I responded (as usual, but with varying tones), "ohh just headed home from work". To which he replied "You're still workin', I'm a professional musician, I know that. You're still workin'"