The night my Mascara ran....

Friday night ticket stubs and stories

It was almost nine o'clock.  We had most of the tables packed up for the night...and Ray was trucking it all out into the steamy street....another Friday night of storms and stories...

And then I saw them, in the almost empty garage....The woman with the dark, deep, eyes and the young girl with the quiet smile.  They headed straight for the only table we still had standing...the table with the cardboard story box.  The woman tilted her head, carefully read the instructions, and in a soft voice asked..."Is this for real?"

I smiled....and answered...  "Yes, take your time, and if your find the one meant for you, take your sign".....

I didn't watch them.  We know now that flipping through the signs, reacting, choosing....even walking away, should be private.  But I felt them, as they came closer to me.  The woman asked hesitantly, if I wanted to see the sign she had chosen....and
I smiled, and tipped my head again....

She was holding the cardboard tight to her chest, and she slowly turned it to me, and whispered "Thank you".......
"I'm a widow, now".....
"This means the world to me...."

And then she folded the little sign back, close to her heart, and walked away.....

I can't imagine what prompted me...to even paint that sign, with the drippy words,  the big brown eyes dusted with lashes, and the little crescent moon...
but I may never forget the words...
"My Mascara ran away with the Moon"......

Love Grows.....

Our First Night Out...

This is before we had the Pink Box.....the wind would rattle it's fanny to the sound of the Drums and signs would blow everywhere....Funny, but looking back....this was the coolest.  Folks sat on the concrete drive-way plundering through the stacks of signs....spreading them out like graffiti fans on the sidewalk....

We had a lot of explaining to do.  People reached down the tube.  Stared at it.  Read it and stared again.  And then we told them what to do....

"Find a sign you think is cool, grab it...and drop whatever you like down the tube"  "It doesn't have to be money.  Just talk to us the way the sign speaks to you" 

That first night at the Moon Circle, we drove an hour home before we climbed out of the truck and emptied the tube....

We don't drive as far most nights, now...

But the heart thrill is still the same.  We tip the tube over...and smile.  There are love letters and trinkets.  Worry stones and change.  A rock  brought back from a hundred mile hike is carefully wrapped in tissue.  A handmade pyramid.... dollar bills with love notes scribbled on them. 

We wonder if the people our signs touch,
know how much they've touched us....

Make it Simple....

Ray splatters, spills, smears the paint on the cardboard remnants....we  get it everywhere, celebrating in the simple splashes of colors.  No rules.  No lines.  No time frames.  And then they lay there.  Scattered on our tiny kitchen floor...
Talking to me...

I see the faces, the fairytales, the dreams, the memories
in the puddled colors....
And then it's simple.
I just tell their stories...out loud,
in words...

And then we pack them up,
and haul them with us on our Friday Night dates,
to Farmer's markets,
Artisan's alleys,
Moon  circles,
and Drum Circles,
And wait for the people that they were meant to go home with
to walk by...
to be touched by the simple words...
to hold their cardboard close...
     to laugh, to smile, to pause....

And tell us their stories.....

In the Beginning.....

We just knew....we wanted to put it all out there...
Words, thoughts, emotions, imagination...
stolen moments...
captured forever in scribble,
dribble,
dripping paint...
on free cardboard...

And then..
we thought...
We'd share it.

Not sell it.

Not litter it.

Just share it.

And see what other folks might share back.

This is that journey...