May Day: The Opening Of A 4 Act Play

The first day of May says hello in an echo chamber of sunshine, blossoming cherry trees, and baby ducklings that shelter-in-place beneath their mothers' soft wings.

The sun's bouquet of ultraviolets descends--One-a-Day Vitamins, the most trusted name in America, for all. The thick, heavy yellow pills for people over 50.

Metaphor is useful once again, while comparisons are not.

IFSF welcomes you to the debut of its new Spring Theatrical Production, Things Are Opening Up: A Play in 4 Acts.

Act 1: the Ghost:

We begin at midnight on May Day with the screams of some unfortunate creature walking down the street and sharing his misery indiscriminately with friends and neighbors. The screams wake us all; those of us who were sleeping realize things were, unfortunately, returning to normal.

Act 2, the Artist:

There's no sadder sight than a paper plate full of chicken wings, eaten and left behind by a ghost. I must make an image of it immediately.

Act 3, the Critic:

As to the word, "community", invoked ceaselessly in mainstream and alternative media as something essential to life as we know it, let us think deeply. What does the word, "community" mean to those who are using the word? I suspect the word has a business purpose and political connotations, but I'm an aging cynical reader and can't be trusted. Or does "community" mean that one knows their neighbors and can extend a helping hand across the street? So that one knows the name of the person who lives in the blue house to his left and the gray house to his right, and says hello when he sees one of them out walking?

Act 4, the Citizen:

I treasure my anonymity and love my neighbor, not as much as I love myself but as the Other. However, I for one was just getting used to silence and fresh air and the notable decline of automobile traffic. I admit I was drunk on the peace and quiet; there were more birds and bees in my backyard than ever before. A square mile or so of my city surroundings turned into a Romantic landscape, the Lake District of England where Wordsworth and Coleridge strolled. I felt I could live like this forever, but I knew it was a selfish feeling and that people had to get back to work, children to school, business resume as usual, and the great universal economic engine once again spew its metaphoric carbon dioxides as delivered by Amazon Prime. 

And the plate of chicken wings found on the sidewalk this morning? An art piece created by the next as-yet-undiscovered emerging genius who will then re-produce the image in multiples to be featured at the Miami Art Fair, postponed until 2021.

'Things Open Up in a Clearing.' The Presidio, San Francisco, Ca. April 28, 2020. Photo by Brooks Roddan.