The morning was warm, the air clean and fresh, as I prepared the space for the morning's reading.
One of my former students would arrive shortly to do an interview. I pondered two things one: it is strange how present the past remains in our lives, and two: there in no sense of urgency here. This was an interview which had been scheduled for two weeks ago.
When we finished the interview. He expressed interest in the LAB and offered to help by scraping the beautiful-immense-green-oil-paint-bird's residue.
Well before 10, Sean Taegar arrived, ready to read "13 pages of Light Feast". He was accompanied by Ubaldimir Guerra, who had come to read as well.
"I also told Dwayne" said Sean, "he will join us."
Taegar presented the LAB with a printed copy of the Light Feast.
At 10 am sharp, filming would commence. The camera was set, each reader would be filmed like a silhouette on a glowing white orb.
This required silence and absolutely no interruptions. Rare commodities on North Front Street. We exited the space, my former student and I. We would guard the corridor anxiously with a "no enters until they exit" stance.
Thirty nine minutes later, Dwayne Murilllo arrives, only to be told the LAB is 'quarantined' until after filming. Urgency is a mythical creature for some.
When everything was filmed, they exited.
LAB 19 entry 9 was complete, the space abandoned momentarily and no sooner had the free flow of persons resumed and business as usual restored.