Remembering the Goddess at Ground Zero

This noon I am not at Divine Liturgy, but at my twelfth floor cubicle downtown, waiting for the system to come up. When it does, I must test connectivity and run some sample reports so that there are no issues when the world comes online Monday morning, that is, this evening.

Last night I attended Jehan's Goddessdance, a wonderful show wonderfully stolen by Jehan's little girl. If I call it a religious experience I will no doubt bring down on my balding head the righteous wrath of certain of my Christian friends, but it was, it was...

I was particularly happy to see Adnil dance again. When I saw her last, some twenty three months ago, she and her colleagues danced at the Lafayette for me alone. Indeed, had the management not identified me to the police manning the barricades, they would have danced only for each other. It was right that I be there, with no food to be ordered and the electricity just restored. To me the dance, Middle Eastern dance in particular, represents the triumph of life over death, and I had seen death, death from the Middle East, with my own eyes, and twice felt it rattle my own bones, and, though the Lafayette was back in business in a matter of weeks, it would be nine months before the the place where I now sit would be available once more.

That we made it last night was sheer dumb luck. I assumed that we had missed out once again this year, but Neon's Friday night cablecast informed me otherwise, and Saturday morning I confirmed this on the Web before rushing off to Grand Central to entrain for a more sedate meeting with seraphimsigrist, Lazarus James Reid, JerryLucido, and Mark Lerner.

Alas, we missed Neon herself, a most remarkable performer, and a painter besides. No doubt when the show's run was extended, she was unable to change her schedule. Perhaps some other time...

Cheers, all