Dear Joan
A theatre foyer. Night. It is empty. The doors are locked. But if there were a woman there...
A theatre foyer. Night. It is empty. The doors are locked. But if there were a woman there...
We Balconies will continue to sing our endless songs, our revolutionary shouts and pings: “Other worlds are possible even in impossible times!”
It must be with the sound of bells, bells that play longer than usual, which we perceive more clearly because […]
Hi Hey hi Hey hey hi
In the end there is not nothing. In the end there is endless everything.
Audience members whisper into a magic lantern their favorite and most accursed first experiences of love.
This landscape offers things up to you – and your body takes its place among them. Rest for a moment. You do not need to make anything appear; so much is already here, and you are not even close to being in control.
Letters from the ocean, messages without bottles, directed to you.