Today is my boyfriend Michael’s birthday and I’m really missing him. He’s missing another Edinburgh Fringe Festival this year because he’s back home with the cats. Michael claims that he’ll attend his first Edinburgh Fringe Festival next year but if he does, our cats will likely be missing him then.
In the photos below, my son Aaron (shown during the first night of his Edinburgh Fringe show) is missing his beard. If you haven’t been missing any of my posts over the years, you’ll be amazed to know that Tom Joyce — a comedian whose shows we would never miss — is sharing the bill of my son’s Fringe Show.
So you won’t be missing any of my other photos from yesterday, here they are:
When I see a cat outside my son’s flat in Edinburgh, it helps me deal with missing our cats.
My immediate reaction to checking my old blog posts, just now, is surprise that I have never written a post with “Immediate” in the title before.
My immediate thought upon waking up this morning was “It’s the day of my one-day only Fringe Festival show — “Group ‘Therapy’ with Ann.”
I’m hoping to help the people who show up to my show to get an immediate appreciation of the benefits of group therapy. I’m also hoping that the immediate and understandable performance jitters I might be experiencing during my show will not cause me to forget the immediate words and the chords of the two original songs I’ll be sharing.
When I saw this sign yesterday on the streets of Edinburgh,
… my immediate thought was “That’s the title of my blog post tomorrow.”
What are your immediate reactions to the many other photos I took yesterday?
My immediate urge is to let you know that you can enlarge any of those photos by clicking on it immediately.
My immediate reactions to the extraordinary show of my venue captain …
When I was putting up my immediate posters for my show at the venue — The Natural Food Kafe — I asked a patron if he would come to a show like mine. His immediate reaction was yes, if he could. It took just a few minutes for us to realize that we had an immediate connection in our mutual love for jazz guitarist Pat Metheny.
Yesterday, when I was in the considerate city of Edinburgh, continuing to construct my August 19th Free Fringe show “Group ‘Therapy’ with Ann,” I noticed this sign:
After many years of attending the Edinburgh Fringe Festival, I agree that the people who live in and visit Edinburgh are consider constructors. Thanks to all of them for their consideration!
Also, consider this poster for an especially considerate constructor of brilliant Fringe shows: Joshua Ladgrove a/k/a Dr. Neal Portenza:
My considerate son and I will definitely attend that show, probably today.
I love being at the heart of Edinburgh …
… which I experience as a calmed area …
… particularly in contrast with my home country of the USA, here and now.
Here are some considerate constructors in an interview with Josh Ladgrove from the Edinburgh Fringe last year:
Before listening to that interview, I didn’t know that “Neal Portenza” was considerately constructed from an anagram of “Not a Real Perzon.”
I look forward to fetching comments …
… from the considerate readers of this blog.
Considerate thanks from the constructor of this post to all who are reading it, including YOU.
One of my recurring dreams is to have a show at the Edinburgh Fringe Festival. Much to my amazement, that will be occurring on August 19 at 13:00 (1 PM) at the Natural Food Kafe basement room. I only have one show this year, but I’m hoping the show will be recurring next year.
My show — “Group ‘Therapy’ with Ann” — is loosely based on the recurring groups that I do five times a week at work. At this point, I’m staying up and having dreams about how to make that work well since there are new and non-recurring elements I’ve never dealt with before, including:
it’s about half the time of my usual groups,
I don’t know how many people will show up,
several of the participants will be total strangers to me, and
it’s a show at the Edinburgh Fringe Festival!
I know that I will be using some recurring elements of my real groups, like mindfulness and a check-in where everybody will have the space and time to speak uninterrupted. In my recurring groups, I always introduce the check-in by saying what I’m curious about in the moment, as a way to suggest what people might want to share. For the purposes of my Edinburgh show, I’m planning on curiously asking people:
why they came to the show,
how they would introduce themselves,
something we might not guess about them,
their experience in the moment,
what keeps them up at night,
what keeps them going,
a favorite saying and/or song, and
a recurring or vivid dream they’ve had.
In my check-in, I plan on singing one of my original songs and also sharing a recurring dream I have, about trying to call somebody on the phone and not getting through.
Last night, what kept me up was my indecision, at this point, about what to do at the mid-point of the show. When I finally fell asleep, I had my recurring dream (which hasn’t occurred in years).
In my dream last night, I was trying to call Michael on my cell phone. It was incredibly difficult, because of new changes to the phone, which I couldn’t figure out. People were trying to help me connect to him, but nothing was working. Eventually, I attempted the tried-and-true method of saying to Siri, “Call Michael!” At that moment, Michael showed up. I was very relieved to see him, but it was too late for me to get to an important appointment. (The dream had other non-recurring elements, including a Trump supporter who kept trying to steal one of my boots as I was putting it on, but never mind.)
Do you have a recurring dream? Would you talk about it if you came to my show? Actually, it would be a dream for me if any of my readers showed up at my Fringe show, no matter what they decided to share.
Certain recurring dreams and themes show up in my photos. Can you spot any today?
Here’s the original song I’m going to sing during my check-in, which has had recurring appearances in this blog:
I have a recurring dream about people leaving comments, and they often do!
Recurring thanks to all who help me create this daily recurring blog, including you!
It doesn’t matter that I’m sharing these particular photos today and it doesn’t matter what order they’re in:
It doesn’t matter that when I sang my latest original song yesterday, somebody said, “I tell everybody ‘I don’t know what planet she’s from, but it’s a good one.'”
It doesn’t matter that Michael and I danced to this song last night:
It doesn’t matter what comments you leave or how I express my gratitude to everyone who helps me create these posts, including YOU!
Also, my angel of a nurse, Melanie Marshall (who appears in this post with several other angels) …
… has left Tufts Medical Center, which I found out yesterday at my device check appointment. In case my reading angels want to know whether there was any other disappointment at that appointment, I also found out that my implantable cardiac device has about four more years of life.
You don’t have to be an angel, just be someone who can give. — Patti LaBelle
In heaven an angel is nobody in particular. — George Bernard Shaw
Monsters will always exist. There’s one inside each of us. But an angel lives there, too. There is no more important agenda than figuring out how to slay one and nurture the other. — Jacqueline Novogratz
I do not want to be the angel of any home: I want for myself what I want for other women, absolute equality. After that is secured, then men and women can take turns being angels. — Agnes Macphail
A good teacher who can take the zero pay and help kids develop physically, emotionally, socially, is literally an angel. — Eva Amurri
Books are like a mirror. If an ass looks in, you can’t expect an angel to look out. — B. C. Forbes
I saw the angel in the marble and carved until I set him free. — Michelangelo
Misfortune is never mournful to the soul that accepts it; for such do always see that every cloud is an angel’s face. — Lydia M. Child
When we are touched by something it’s as if we’re being brushed by an angel’s wings. — Rita Dove
I also noticed this yesterday, regarding a singer-songwriter with an angelic voice:
I am grateful for all the angels in my life, including YOU!
… and so are all these other things I photographed recently, including Michael making a hot tub disappear.
Michael, who really doesn’t like tilapia, magically transformed that fish into something even he totally liked last night. The magic ingredients included coconut, ginger, cream, and mango.
I believe that magic is totally real because I’ll be doing a show at the Edinburgh Fringe on August 19. Here’s the totally real front and back of my flyer:
Here is what I magically find on YouTube when I totally search for “Magic is totally real”:
I’m really looking forward to the magic you totally create in the comments section, below.
My gratitude is totally real, so thanks to all who helped me magically create today’s daily blog post and — of course! — to YOU, for being totally here, before you disappear.
The Year(s) of Living Non-Judgmentally 