BRATISLAVA NEON FESTIVAL:

Hand made ice creams, street roasted meats, hillocks of marinaded
olives & mountains of fabulous cheese languish in the cruel heat
of a day of national celebration. The Kings & Queens of
Austro – Hungarian history parade, represented by out of work
actors sweating under the weight of heavy period costume for
bemused tourists with phones on sticks. The furnace mutates into
a muggy night between the trees on the edge of town, a cool sudden
breeze turns damp & chill. The sky erupts, electric, the dancing
stops, the storm rolls in & on. Voices raised in unison call our
name, hands raise in the air, faces illuminate, smiles, laughter,
joy as we prep the stage at 1:00am & the first kick drum drops,
dealing adrenaline. It’s all that’s keeping me going as the
body is again denied it’s right to catch colds or complain about
the abuse I’m giving it. Bed at 03:30, up at 06:30, another plane
is waiting.

(K)