I have not made a post for sometime. School started and I buried my head in the pages of Oroonoko, The Cry of The Dove, and Paradise Lost.
From now on I plan to make a post at least every weekend. Hopefully. No, not hopefully, definitely.
A few days ago Mack and I went to see a man spinning fire in Churchill Square. He stood in the public swimming pool, lit a ball of wool on fire that was attached to a metal chain, and swung it around.
The side of the pool was blanketed with photographers. Each time the man swung the chain, cameras clicked as crickets might in a country field. As sparks reached the concrete, observers covered their eyes and camera equipment.
After a photo was taken shouts of “awesome,” and “holy-cow” echoed against the concrete. It was known when someone approved of a photo they had captured.
Springing from the pool, the man also juggled fire.
Before the end of the night my camera died. My contacts were dry, and the world around me was becoming blurry. We left before his final act. We trudged home through the streets of downtown Edmonton.