Wednesday, December 16, 2009

Birds and pants

Its dusk on Mill Avenue in Dec.
in Tempe, Arizona and it is cold
I am helping Mary tarp off
the three booths her and Janet share.
there are a multitude of birds
flying overhead,
to the trees lining the sidewalks,
they come in flocks
to roost for the evening
with a high pitch chirp chatter
deafening and yes...
there is pooping!

Trying to duck out of range
is a challenge and some artists.
aren't as lucky
We are tired...
so tired up since 3:00 am
and cold
bone achingly cold!

"Why do they poop while flying?"
Mary asks me,
"It's not like we poop while running."
"Well, because we wear pants," I answer,
she looks at me, "What????"
"Well, you know, if all we had was a tail
and our feet were tucked behind us..."
We start laughing at the visual
our usual 'we're too tired
to make sense
tangent' about to begin.

In the car, it continues,
the senseless commentary of the day
and somehow I earn
the nickname "sparky pants"
for the weekend
always there is a nickname.

Art festivals...
is this odd lifestyle
of smirk and snipe,
funny and cranky,
while exhausted...
long prior studio hours,
making stuff....
lots of driving,
packing up stuff and setting up stuff,
up too early, up too late,
put more stuff together
too hot, too cold complaints,
we have happy money moments
or sad say nothing results...
but always there is humor
and stories to tell
and retell
these, 'our standout moments!'

For some reason I lose my mind
when I am with, Mary and Janet
I lose my mind...
and everything else it seems!

Last year in the spring show,
thought I lost my keys
and returned to Starbucks
in search of them
"did you find my keys?"
"No, but we have a purse!"
"Hmmm, no thanks,
looking for a set of keys"

Three hours later
having found my keys,
Starbucks calls
to tell me they have my purse

Mary and Janet love this story
telling it again and again.

So this past weekend
it was no surprise
when I showed up without my keys
to my truck and trailer
left over Thanksgiving,
and had to call a locksmith.
They were patient as usual
but the next night when
I relayed my discovery
of a missing box of prints
(left possibly at my last show location)
the teasing was relentless.
"Call Starbucks,
they probably have them!"

But I wasn't listening,
more important things
were on my mind...
like birds' wearing pants
...and hmmm...where's my purse???

Pam Piper Rain
alias "Sparky pants" ??


Carla said...

I love you recounting of the crazy show gypsy life! By the way - it's good luck if birds poop on you! :)

Creager Studios said...

Love this story.... Bird Poop and Pants....would be a great name for a book! Hope yours having a great time...cold here too...UGH, I want summer already...
Hugs, Jodi