You Never Know

This was me on Sunday morning, about to start out on an easy meandering walk, camera in hand. I was, as usual, solitary and reflective, easing my way into the day, relaxed and trusting that this day was mine. I raised the camera with out any conscious consideration of self-portrait, loving the early light, just fooling around. My mind was in floating mode; the moment was all. The rest of the day was far away.

The evening, when it arrived, was no big deal. I would represent family with my brother, John, and my sister, Mary, at a musical performance at the Walter Anderson Museum. I would sit in the audience toward the back so that slipping out would be possible if I had to.

I had not counted on the laid-back friendliness of the musician, Luther Dickenson. His warmth and openness when we were introduced rolled over me so that I barely knew he had invited me to dance at the end of his performance. And I enjoyed listening to his interpretation of the planets represented in my father's murals. He held my attention and even brought frequent smiles to my face, as did his drummer whose back was to the audience, but whose dance as he drummed was fluid,  and captivating. Arms like wind-blown branches each time they rose above his bobbing head...

When the piece was completed I heard Luther say the word "dance". And it startled me out of my anonymous reverie. Would I or wouldn't I? I threaded my way to the front of the room where my brother was swaying to the music, reassuring as he smiled with pleasure at my appearance. I took off my shoes. And bare feet against the familiar floor of that glorious room, my body remembered and my grateful soul was set free. It was really as if the whole day had led to this, as if the audience was not surprised that Luther had invited the seventy-two year old daughter of the artist to interpret the murals and the music further. He could do no wrong. Their enthusiasm and pleasure in this remarkable happening were boundless. I was received with open arms...just as I was.

Extra is of Luther early on in the concert, singing to the VIPS, before the hordes of enthusiastic standing room only audience members arrived.