Strange Parade

He sways and weaves while he plays, makes the stage his dance floor. He jumps four feet in the air; knees tucked tight, his instrument aloft. His shirt is drenched from exertion. He sheds it, revealing a tattooed torso. Two sound holes just like on his violin. Dr. Draw.

The club is dark, the crowd riveted. His motifs soar over driving beats. The band could’ve been teleported from a rock show. Sweet sounds fluidly become stormy, his bow slicing furiously, strands hang from it. With a few more strokes he tips us into another landscape, sultry and changeable.

From the ceiling bolts of cloth are draped. Two acrobats climb them, dangle from them, all without harnesses. Look one way and you miss something else. A melody strikes me as familiar. I realize it’s Donna Summer’s I Feel Love shaped into something partly classical. Sumptuous, rhythmic and inciting movement.

I dance. Endorphins course through me and I have an odd sense of being more than a spectator. Eugene’s performance ends and we scatter onto the street. It’s late, but how will I sleep while I’m still marvelling at the spectacle we’ve seen? I feel I’ve just been to the circus.

-Dr. Draw & the Strange Parade at the Mod Club, Sept. 2013.