December 17th, 2014 § permalink
On Monday, we met trapeze artist Camille Swift. Once you read that illustrated tale, here’s part two of her story.
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Don’t wrap your hands, the small woman said as we sipped coffee at a shop beneath the rumbling Blue Line.
The woman, Camille Swift, has only known two trapeze artists who wrap their hands — one had eczema, one was a Parisian flight attendant whose bosses wanted silky-smooth femininity whilst handing out drinks. That slight separation dulls your sense of touch and body awareness; even a fraction might be dangerous.
“Even if it involves a crazy amount of pain, you want your skin to be in contact with the apparatus because that way your body knows you’re in contact with the apparatus,” she said. » Read the rest of this entry «
December 15th, 2014 § permalink
She’s small. That’s what you notice when she sidles into the coffeehouse where you said you would meet.
You expected the cockatiel shock of henna-red hair shunted dramatically to the side. You expected the arched eyebrows and even the tinkling, slightly sarcastic-sounding voice to an extent.
But you didn’t expect someone who could flip and twist and lock her feet and dangle, kink her back and swirl through the air, raising herself slowly toward the sky by the tension of her wrists — you didn’t expect her to be so small.
Aerialist Camille Swift of Old Irving Park is five feet, five inches of the most powerful physical presence you’ve come across.
She’s the firebird. » Read the rest of this entry «
