Jessica Anne's Chaos

Dear Jessica:

On Sunday, during Sheer Chaos, when you had walked across the stage, and you were standing there, taking everything in, whatever you were doing, I wanted to get out of my chair, throw your birdbones over my shoulder and set you down in a bed, or a couch, or a nice chair, and paint you. All I could think about was wanting the world to see your cheek bones and collar bones and the knuckles of your index fingers. You are delicate lines and I just wanted to wallpaper your house with lace and bones and the kind of hands pianists have. I'd paint you on the ceiling and I'd paint your fingernails.

Do you have any idea how weird it all felt, at once, during that one play?

It was a great play.

Good work.

When I am a neo-futurist, you better still be one too.