|We are all unique and amazing. With this notion bouncing around inside me I offer to the world what I have to share. The words inside my head have reached to overflowing and in an attempt to keep from exploding I have taken to writing. What follows is the result of purging my mind. If you like what you see, SUBSCRIBE at the top of the page.|
The heroes can restJan 23, 2018
As far back as I can remember, each day when I wake up, they come. The eyes. I call them the eyes, because that is all I can see. They do have more than just eyes but they are covered from top to bottom and only the eyes shine through. I can understand some of what they say but there is so much more they say that I do not understand. I do not know if they are in my world or if I am in their world. I can not remember a time before or a place other than this. The only thing I can remember is here, this place with all the eyes and the beeps and the blinking blips.
I don’t want to be here but I don’t know where I want to be. I don’t even know if this is all there is. I do hope there is somewhere other than this, somewhere unlike this. I would run from here but don’t know if there will just be more here wherever I run to. Will there be more eyes? Will there be more beeps? Why do I have these tubes all over me and they do not? Can I run? How do I know what running is? I don’t remember but it seems right. Then the eyes come again and I lie still. I don’t want them to know that the poking does not feel good. Maybe that is what they want? I hurt. The poking hurts. When it hurts I must go as from here as I can.
I fall deep within to a place so small It is enormous. No matter which way I turn I can’t see any walls. It goes on forever. I know I have arrived because my heroes are there. The soldier, the philosopher, the brainiac, the kid, the muscle guy, the weirdo. The weirdo is there for distraction. Sometimes he needs to distract so the other guys can do their work. It was pretty weird at first but each of my heroes looks like me. Some are older than me. I mean like grown up old and the kid is younger than me but he has super powers I never had. He can puke at will, which totally freaks adults out. My heroes are always keeping an eye out for anyone who might want to come in and hurt me. In the middle of all my heroes they have saved a special place for me, but I haven’t seen that place yet. The say I am already there so I guess the me that goes to the hall of heroes is not the same me that lives in the hall of heroes. Maybe that should freak me out but it doesn’t. I am tired. Tired of running. Tired of falling. Tired of poking.
I wake up today and again there are the eyes. These are not the poking every day eyes these eyes are different. These are the red eyes. The sad eyes. They always have redness where all the other eyes have white. These eyes always leak like I hurt. Something about these eyes make we want to remember a place that is not beeping. A place where there is a warm brightness up high. A happy warm place where nothing hurts. Is this a real place? The warm leaky eyes go away when the serious eyes push close to me.
“Swelling” “Stabilization” “O.R.” “Stat” “The window is closing.” I don’t know what it means. I blink and they are gone. I blink again and the kind eyes are there leaking. The kind eyes say “We are trying to get you back.” Blink. Then the serious eyes are there touching the beeps and blips. It is time to fall to into me before the poking. Whatever is happening does not seem like a good thing. I look into the leaky eyes as I begin to fall. “I love you”. I fall.
The hall of heroes is different. All of the heroes are in a circle. It is a perfect circle and they are all facing in away from the walls that can’t be seen. I freeze. I stop before I reach the circle. Two heroes step away from each other pivoting on one foot and create a gap in the circle large enough for me to pass through. Slowly I walk through the gap into the circle. As I pass through I can see myself. I have never seen myself but I know this is me. I can see me entering the circle and I can see me looking at me in the circle at the same time. It should be weird but it is not. Okay, maybe just a little weird and kinda cool. But it is good weird not creepy weird. We smile at each other, big toothy smiles. The whole place begins to glow with a golden white light that gets more and more intense until I can’t see anything but brightness.
“Honey, can you hear me?” The brightness lessens and I can see those eyes. The white parts are not red in the same way. They are leaking. “Honey, can you hear me?” I nod my chin up and down.This is different. Deep down inside there is a spark. I know you. I know you. From the middle of my chest, right next to my heart I feel the word rising out of me. For the first time since I can remember I need to say something to the eyes because they are not just eyes. I know you. My first attempt to speak is just a “croak”. But then I manage the word that needs to get out. The word wedged deep in my soul that if I can let out will let all other words out. I can feel it dislodging. The word that is no longer stuck in the dry cracks of my throat behind the rubber tongue. “Mom”. Those eyes leak like swollen rivers. I can remember rivers. She reaches up and pulls down the mask that covers her face and kisses my forehead. She squeezes me to almost breaking. “I’m here. I’m right here.” she says into the pillow while she squeezes. “Where.......?” I can’t say anymore because she cuts me off. “You’re father is in the next room. The car is completely totaled... Everyone else is fine... We have been so worried.......” She goes on but I can not hear it. I hurt and this is a different hurt. This is a hurt that makes sense. I don’t need to fall anymore. I know I will fall once more because I need to let the heroes know they can rest.
In betweenJan 4, 2018
In the space between you and me
where nothing appears to be
there are millions upon millions of particles connecting you to me.
U.S. - Turkmenistan cultural exchange stage 2Dec 5, 2017
November 11 through November 20 saw Bill Forchion, Sara Deull, and Keith Kaplin take part in Stage 2 of the U.S. State Departments Cultural Exchange in the Arts (Circus) to Turkmenistan. The three circus experts facilitated workshops in Physical theater, Aerials, Juggling, Balance skills and Acrobatics at the Turkmenistan Institute of Culture, Circus Department and Turkmenistan State Circus. The three also gave presentations at the U.S. Embassy American Corners in Dashoguz, Turkmenabad and Mary. Forchion, Deull, and Kaplin made presentations at Specialized Art schools in Turkmenabad and Dashoguz and were honored with performances by Students and Professors of the schools.
|Oct 18, 2017|
sometimes the best way to speak my mind is to remain silent.
Farewell to a friendOct 12, 2017
79 Flathead Street (sizzle) from Bill Forchion on Vimeo.
My heart is heavy with the death of a great friend. Stanley Lynde shared his dreams and passions with me and an entire community. Many a day we would discuss the metaphysical and the motorcycle. I will miss his honesty, his laughs, his hugs, his friendship and so much more. I will forever have the memories.