I've being feeling blue lately. So today I forced myself to be nice to myself. No thinking about poems. No worrying about my collection. No reading.
I put on some of my favorite CDs, and I lip-synced my little heart out. A lot of Cyndi Lauper (especially her live version of Joni Mitchell's Carey.) REM. Juan Gabriel. Sufjan Stevens. Death Cab for Cutie. A-ha. Tori Amos. Coldplay. Tigres Del Norte.
I've always loved lip-syncing. I'm talking about full blown lip-syncing. I stand in the middle of my room and move and shake and dance my body as I "sing." I get a kick out of acting out the emotions tied up in the songs. If it's a sad song I beat my chest, and throw my arms around. If it's a happy song I make these quirky gestures with my hands, and shake what Buddha gave me. It releases the inner Drag Queen in me.
Once, in Iowa City, I left my window blinds up, and as I finished performing a Junga song I noticed a couple of youngish girls staring straight at me through the window! I waved at them, and they just ran off.
I should've charged them a couple of bucks for the show.