She said: "What if I was here, up here on this stage in front of all of you, and I didn't have anything to say. What would I do? What would anyone do? Maybe I'd become violent and that violence would become what I had to say to you. Maybe I'd just turn around and leave. Who would stop me? Maybe I could claim a medical condition was the cause of my muteness and I would excuse myself, holding a paper towel to my mouth, and just leave you all in silence, and that silence would end up, in the end, being my gift to you. I mean, who did you come to see? What were your expectations? What if it were all a lie and you had be tricked by a fraud. What if the "art" of the thing was in the fact that there was nothing there to begin with and nothing to end with and that, like a mirage, something had been there, but then that something was gone and you were left with yourselves and the empty stage where, eventually, the lights would be turned off and everyone would go home."

Stumble It!

She said: "I see through these eyes, but these eyes are not me. I breathe through this nose, but this nose is no me. I eat through this mouth and taste with this tongue but this mouth and tongue are not me, anymore than these feet that I walk on and run with. The clothes that I wear are not me; the songs that I sing are not me; this heart that beats within me and that feeds me each second of every day that I live; all this and more is no more 'me' than skin is, than the moon is, than fire is or even these words are me. I can't be defined that simply because I am much more complex than that."

Stumble It!

He said: "The flowers always knew where they had to go. There was never any question or doubt. They came into my garden knowing where to bloom. They knew where their seed should fall and where there was likelihood that their line would survive into the Summer and into the Fall and Winter. They knew how to protect themselves and survive. They know how to dazzle, distract, slow down their prey, attract what will be the best for them. The flowers know. I don't know how they do it, but I'm certain now that they know."

Stumble It!

He said: "Shoot the piano player, because he's watching. Shoot the piano player because he's French; because he's crazy; because he can't see us, and if he did, wouldn't know who we are. All he knows about is black and white and he doesn't know who is chasing him or why. He has to wait, just as we have to wait, for the last shot. That shot is followed by the resolution of the story as we see the piano player falling, then sliding on the icy hill, then gliding to a stop because that's the end of the movie."

Stumble It!

She said: "They had to leave in a hurry taking what they could quickly grab before they left. The others were coming for them and they had to be gone quickly. The war was over and the grand homes were now mostly emptied of people, except for the ones who tended the fields. Except for the dark ones who tended the house, except for the Asians who poured the cooling drinks for them. They had to leave by horseback and by helecopter from the roof of the embassy, and this was their last chance to go before it all came down around them and the world that they had built around them to be safe and to have the life they thought was theirs to have for the taking. Now, they had to leave before it all came down around them and the things that they loved."

Stumble It!

She said: "I always wanted to be a dancer. Dancers just seemed to me to be the most liberated people in the Universe. They are so free! Free to take space and stretch it and fold it and make it what they want it to be. And they make their bodies do things that God, herself, must have invented especially for them. Dancers do things that are special! Dancers do things to make old things seem new; in a better light. A dancer knows things about the body that others can not know. Dancer are happiest when they are throwing themselves into space, into pure air, into folding, into leaping, into wrapping air around their selves, jumping, rolling, rising and falling and spinning and into creating a new set of rules and a new language that only Dancers, themselves, can recognize and understand. That's why I always wanted to do that."

Stumble It!

He said: "I had a big life and I did a lot of things outdoors. I painted some and made music and, you know, life was large. That is until they found the small thing on my brain. After that everything changed and as the small thing began to slowly grow, my life became smaller and then more smaller and I tried hard not to be the small thing, but to fight to stay the larger thing that I know that I am, to be the whole thing and not the thing divided between the small thing and the rest of the world. It's hard because I can't really throw away the small thing. I have to work with it to find some accommodation, to allow it to be a part of me, but to not be me totally. Do you know what I mean?"

Stumble It!

She said: "Oh, I thought it was you. I'm so sorry to hear about your wife. I read about it in the paper, and then, later, RoAnne told me. How awful! I'm sure it is still difficult for you. How are you? Oh, do you know who I saw at the beach last week? David and Cher. I felt so silly because I wasn't really sure it was them until I overheard someone call out to them. Then I knew. They hadn't been to this part of the shoreline before, so, of course, I simple HAD to show them around. They're such a fun couple. I've always loved the two of them. Oh, I almost forgot! Chris and Roald and splitting up. Can you believe it? After all this time. I guess the stress just got too much. I don't think I could have gone through what they have and still stay together. That Dan lawyer is working with them. I just talked to him a few weeks ago. I ran into him at that bar downtown. It took me the longest time to realize it was him. I kept looking and looking at him; he was only a few tables away. I knew I knew him, but I just couldn't figure out who he was. Then I heard someone call out to him. You know, I'm not always good with faces, but I never forget a name."

Stumble It!

He said: "I was part of a Rock 'n' Roll band in the 1980s. We started in the basement and ended up some time later on the road. Most of our days were filled up with driving from one gig to the next gig, up and down the East and West coasts. Connecting the dots was one of the many thankless jobs that someone needed to perform in order for the "magic" to happen. It was brutal! The driving, even after we were able to work our way up to a second van, was brutal. Just awful. Boring. Tedious. Painful. Anyway, one of the obstacles we'd look out for was heavy weather. A good size storm could make us late for the next gig and that affected our budget. It was simple, really: No Play, No Pay. One of the other things that could slow us down would be problems with the vans. I, by accident, caused us to loose a good paying gig by accidentally (I swear!) set one of the vans on fire. I was bored. We all smoked back then. I absent mindedly shoved a cigarette butt down a hole I had found in the back seat, between the fake wood panelling and the side of the van. In almost no time at all, the van filled up with smoke, I guess, from the insulation that was not supposed to burn, but did. We had to pull over because of the smoke. The second van soon caught up with us, but by that time the first van was a smoke or fog machine and we tried to empty it before the equipment was toast. That was a heavy thing to carry around within the band. From that night on, I was "the guy who set the van on fire."

Stumble It!

She stood by herself, away from the platform, and held her cell phone to her ear while she repeated that one word, over and over again' like it was snow falling on her shoulder or gentle rain drops finding her hair, finding her face, finding her there, alone in the corner of the station. "Hello?". There was a moment of silence, a pause, and then: "Hello?" again. Her face had a slight look of concern, maybe; just the subtlest signaling of anxiety written on her forehead. "Hello?" There were no replies to her courtesy, apparently no answer to her desire to connect with someone on the other side. The longer she remained in the corner of the station, the quieter her replies became, until I could barely hear her but could still see the concern on her face. "Hello?" she said. "Hello?"

Stumble It!

He said: "If it true that all of us are unique in the world, then, I wonder, what would it be like to be you and what would it be like if we could change places and I could experience what it is like to be like you and you could know what it is like to be like me. I think that I would be afraid that being me was too mundane and that my desire to be you was so that I could experience something more amazing than what I am, but I also think that maybe I would be disappointed and that being you was really not that different than being me, in which case, it probably wouldn't be worth the effort. Probably, it's just better to leave things as they are."

Stumble It!

She said: "I can remember my mother telling me about this place. Of course, when I was younger I didn't believe it. I thought it was another of her fairy stories or such. Of course, now I know better. She used to talk about a place that she said was called 'The Well of Dreams'. This was a place that anyone could come to if they knew it was there and if they were brave enough to enter. The Well Of Dreams was a place of great power. It was a place where everything was open to the ones who asked. Some came for knowledge. Others came for absolution. There were very few who could stand to be in that well for more than a few seconds because the power that the well was made of was very strong and it could take you if you let it. The water at the well was Truth. Pure Truth. That was a mighty force that changed people. I know. I know because I, at the age of 18, went to the well and drank the waters there. I also know that I can never go back there. I know, now, that I can't."

Stumble It!

He said: "A small package of great worth will come to you. It will contain everything that you desire at this moment. You must open it at noon, for it is at noon when desire is strongest. This package is being sent to you as a gift. That is the only way it can be transferred. Once it is yours, you will have it forever. This is a great responsibility as well as a great gift. You must never know who sent it to you. It is enough to know that someone, somewhere, thinks that you have the courage to open the package and make it your own."

Stumble It!