You are in an emptied out church rec room/auditorium. People are moving the chairs around, creating empty space. The girls moving the chairs smile at you. This is the first time you’ve seen them with shirts on. Joe is strumming his guitar, and except for his trademark gelled-back hair and thick-framed glasses, his bluejeans and jeanshirt make him  look like a spit for dylan in 64. Except the guitar is blue. “they’re not here yet,” he says. Your friend in the loose-fitting suit and baseball cap is snapping pictures with his iphone and a wide-angle lense he’s holding over it. Everything everywhere is motion, and you get the sense that all the things these people are doing, they are in there element.

Later, with Lexy swinging her legs over the desk wearing an Indian (native american) headdress and Dan spinning fire in the darkened auditorium, as you dance, him with his fire and you with your camera, his arms spinning wildly and your legs running around him, you feel the dance, the dance of the light, as his lights move you see everyone’s shadows dancing. They stay static, but the shadows dance, like everyone has become a being entered some Peter Pan reality where their shadows dance about their own volition, and though each person stays still, in them something is, at this moment, freed to move around and dance.

You turn the camera on your own shadow, and capture it dancing as you stand still. “I will end a video with this shot,” you tell yourself. You know it will be good.