One of my fondest memories :)
Created by gwen cone on 12/11/2014
A very long time ago, practically in a galaxy far far away, I ran away from home and joined the circus.
Well, I graduated from high school and hopped a plane with my paramour. Instead of going to my prom I went to Agoura, ending up on the Southern Faire lot late at night, having just turned 18 and gotten my diploma a few hours ago. I was in a brave new, wonderful, world full of secrets and mysteries. One of those mysteries was being taken by the hand and pulled, with great excitement and anticipation, to a circle of hay bales under an oak tree. We were going to see The Storyteller. You could hear the capital letters in the way everyone said the name. I was barely 18 and trying to figure out what it meant to be an adult and to be far away from home. I had no idea what this whole The Storyteller thing meant. I just knew that I was wandering over the hill under a canopy of stars, holding hands with my sweetheart. The closer we got, the more people were walking with us in the dark. It was like camp, but with adults. It was like nothing I'd really experienced before. Most of all, it was magic. It was magic sitting under the night sky with no idea what to expect. It was delightful and weird and wonderful to realize that the big hairy bear of a man that sat down in front of us was The Storyteller.
And so we passed an hour, or three or I don't know how many. Huddled and cuddled together, making rain, and playing spark in the dark and hearing about Anna and the Sun and it was wonderful. I don't need to tell some of you that, you already know. I feel so sorry to know that our Storyteller is gone. My heart hurts in an old place I didn't even know existed anymore. And my heart hurts for his family and his friends - because I only knew him as The Storyteller, but they've lost so much more.
But mostly - I'm sorry for the people that have no idea what we just lost. Because getting to be in that circle of people in the dark, watching children shift on laps, lovers curl closer together, friends waiting in happy anticipation - that was magic. The real kind. And we were really lucky.
Rest in peace, Mark Lewis. I hope I see you on the other side.
~Gwendolyn C. Cone