December 16, 2005 - 3:43
I choose the one that is fashioned to look like a piano out of black wood. When you open the top, the liner is red velvet and thar she is, a ballerina spinning to "Strangers in the Night". The tulle on her skirt is powdered with the finest dust. The mirror on the backing is cracked.
I watched the best of the Muppets on DV disc. There was a nice scene where the muppets gather around George Burns while he plays a song on the piano. Through it, all I could see in my imagination were the puppeteer's hands as they manipulated the puppets with rods and strings. Something about that idea, the nimble disembodied hands I pictured, was stirring to the point of becoming feebly overwhelmed, and weepy. I haven't been moved so well in a long time, not like that.
My utmost admirations go out to hand craftsmen of the inessential and lovely goods.