Why Joining the Facilitators’ Collective feels like a Wordless Comic
I’ve been trying to write this blog post since November.
It was supposed to be a three-day thing (pause)
But I stampeded over the deadlines
Like a shady wildebeest because
there is so much I want to say
(embarrassingly intense stuff)
Like Hey
Everyone, I think I’m Madly in Love with You All/
I want to drink tea and listen to you talk about facilitation
till climate change pours out of the sky and we die onstage in a glorious blaze of radiation, Etc.
(maybe two years spent alone wandering between two floating rooms,
asking visiting mice
about the pandemic outside will do that)
But to feel lost then found
To have Mondays be Fun Days
To play like otters and hermit crabs and baby goats
In a medieval garden in sunny weather
To move from grief and panic to feathered conversation and the sound of ten people
Breathing together
To find such warmth so close to home,
to thaw
Has made me rhyme then fall silent then draw:
Text and Illustrations by Alia
Alia is is an illustrator and theatre practitioner based in Delhi. She is deeply interested in collaborative art-making and obsessed with fungi, ghosts and bees.