I’ve always had a fascination with lights. There’s something about them, I can never put my finger on it. It’s always been a relaxing, sort of therapeutic thing for me. Lights are mesmerizing. This overpowering feeling takes over and doesn’t let go. Maybe that’s why the stage speaks so loud for me. The mixture of colors and how it can set an entire tone for the show. They create the atmosphere, just like stars.Most nights, I want to take a walk. Not just a five minute, fresh air walk. I want night to last days. The world becomes silent. I guess that’s when the lights shine their brightest. In the darkest of times, a small light can flicker and you can spot it from miles away. The night always held this power over me. It takes me into its tight grip and doesn’t release until the sun rises in the morning. The best part is the drive home. The outside is quiet but the atmosphere is screaming. It’s the moment where the music begins to fall in sync with the street lamps. A distraction. The moments away from the real world. The carnival. The brightest of all. An escape more powerful than the street lamps. There was a carnival in your eyes. Twisting and turning inside small, decorative teacups. Around and around they span. Lights twinkling about, so bright that it was almost blinding. Blue to red to green to yellow. Blue; Red; Green; Yellow. Blue; Red; Green; Yellow. The faster the cups span, the more the colors began to blur. The fun house would turn a simple reflection into beautiful fairies and elegant mermaids. Looping up every challenge and turning it into something we could smile at. The zipper, tossing and turning like a dream you don’t want to wake up from. A seemingly endless adventure. Up and over. Then under and below. The lights still twinkled. The tea cups still span.
Have you seen the light go out of someone’s eyes? One by one, attractions left. The zipper went first, the fun house second. One right after the other. Then the last. Isolated, remained the tea cups. The carnival shut down. Disappeared. No where to be found. Or so it seemed. Even in the darkest of times, there’s a beam of light. The tea cups remain, waiting for a passenger to start the spin, once again.