What Spines Are Made Of

Tonight I watched A Friend of Dorothy (2025; 21 minutes) by Lee Knight. It is always incredible to me to experience the level of emotion that can be elicited within the span of a short film. I mean think about it: What do you tend to experience in 21 minutes?  I've had a predictable commute in the amount of time. 

The moment a character in the film drops a book and it is a copy of the play Bent by Martin Sherman, I started crying. To be followed up by a brief glimpse of a copy of The Inheritance by Matthew López. Theater and loving friendships and gayness and books and companionship and even the familiarity and spark of Miriam Margolyes' eyes.  No wonder it was nominated for like 18 different awards. It made me think fondly of the time I spent swiping copies of plays from the drama library, unprovoked, across campus from my library. 

This week has been a particularly social one. I'm enjoying the intentional building of community, and learning the importance of presence once again. There has been the gangly-legged movements of new alliances alongside catching myself a rainstorm of times admiring the weathered pages of friendships long-standing and well-loved.  

 

 

Be well; be loved,

 

k.  

[image: enrico bet]