A good day yesterday. Finish-painting my Broadway Our Way set, I had the Frank Lloyd Wright theater to myself. Sure an air conditioning guy thumped in the basement and Uptown Players staff worked upstairs - now and then someone would wander through - but for hours, just me. Empty theaters can feel creepy, but the Kalita Humphreys feels warm. (Not in temperature, it's always freezing - what's the A/C guy doing?) If this stage is haunted, it's by friendly ghosts. Still, I ought to have felt lonely. Just me. No radio. Paint buckets. Doing fiddly stuff with small brushes. Instead it was...
Serene.
Serene doesn't happen much. There's a rhythm to painting. An absorption. A relaxed concentration that leaves time for thought. Another rare thing.
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