The people own the story. That was Friday’s lesson. As a teller you are a channel to allow an idea or movement rest in a number of eyes, ears and laps.
The story went brilliantly well. You can’t ask for more than a hundred or so listening pairs of ears when sharing something precious. Storytelling is such an alive art form. It allows for space and reflection and intimacy in a way that a cinema, visual art (ok, sometimes), or even theatre cannot. And it’s hardly prepared. It is just you, the teller, and the listeners moving the same way for 2-15 minutes.
Mezrab on Friday was on fire. It so often is, and to return there again and again, to be able to entertain and be so entertained is a precious treat. I was among 8 storytellers over a few hours pulling in fables of the Celts, true stories from Iran, along with myths from there also and a hilarious account of the poets of cheese.
The Mezrab’s days should run and run.