new york city, march 2008

it was a clear crisp morning
when the white rabbit appeared.
time got stuck,
or rather ceased to exist.
everything seemed to go topsy turvy,
inside out,
all over the place.


a serendipitous accident of sorts,
perhaps....
where a particular soho loft,
full of personalities and creators
became spellbound,
on a frantic
escapade to reinvent forms,
bend reality,
concoct nonsense.

we were bonded by magic.

all discourses were called to attention,
stopped in their tracks,
and then....
the questioning began,
imaginations stretched,
contorted,
expanded all over the place.

and...what if?

'ifs' became 'isms;'
words became musical notes,
wizards concocted discourse solvents in fancy white laboratory coats,
and madhatters pranced around central park muttering about foucault and dali
with scrolls and parchments,
top hats,
and a wild sea bass ceviche.

the what ifs...
became what is.....
and what has become....
and with that bizarre, ephemeral interlude,
our imaginary space was born.