A seductive question, perhaps the most enticing combination of word or thought that could be conjured. Once asked, it captivated; either by focus and endless longing, or through purposeful, eternal avoidance through fear of what may, or may not be possible.
The sibilant sound reverberated around the bayou, licking over leaves and Phyllomedusa alike.
It hadn’t been long since the mists had cleared, well, mostly cleared. Patches lingered here and there, as things were wont to do. Strands of spanish moss clung to branch and rigging; giving foot, toe and claw holds to all manner of creatures making their way through an environment never clear, never obviously dangerous or benign.
For some, a life apart was the only true way of living.
Never quite comfortable at the beginning, all things take some getting used to. Even ruts take time to wear in, furrows some time to plough. Some find comfort in the familiar, unaware of, or perhaps not caring about the wearing away and moulding they receive in return. The grit in the shoe, the twitching discomfort of muscle or soul, these plagued some past the point of forbearance. For better or worse, the pursuit of something ‘other’ had to begin.
The words whispered through the lanes, rounded corners, and whistled through the leaves of the Shrine Tree.
Words of all languages, from all lands. From tongues long lost, their syllables faded from all worlds but this. Cries of pure sound, filled with meaning even before understanding speech. The murmured, the whispered, the silence of words only thought, or communicated by gesture, by touch. Their soft breeze gently nudged the lanterns hanging from every bough. Shouts, yells and screams shook the ground, sending showers of petals down from branches high above.
by Elizabeth Tinsley, Zander Greene and Da5id Abbot
As we write this, Elizabeth’s chasing late-arriving merchants, Zander’s in studio producing pieces for FFR and David’s on top of a tower watching the check-in team working to help those merchants who’ve already arrived and set up their stores. It’s the Faire in a nutshell: everyone working in their own tasks to create a larger whole, and that again is a snapshot of Relay, which is a snapshot of the fight against cancer.
Last year, we said “We’re all builders now.” It’s still true: the Hope Hostel at Kenyatta National Hospital is almost ready to begin, and by the end of this Relay season we’re pretty confident that they’ll be ready to break ground, but we’re building – and we have built – more than a place for people to stay. We’ve built a home here in the Fairelands that we each take with us when the mists return and we go our separate ways for another year. We’ve built a dream of a better world – one where cancer is easily treated and where survivors and caregivers no longer have to face the struggles they do now.
Most importantly, though, we’ve built a community.
Last year, we at the American Cancer Society asked you to pioneer an innovative approach to fundraising for a project of global importance. As the time draws near for another Faire, I wanted to give you an update on where that project now stands.