A Thousand Soft Shoes

[Written after a three-part Parade at Chelsea]

“What’s important when you start on a new course?”
“That you don’t know where it will go. You knew where you were going so you changed course.”
“So that the parade can remain perpetual?”
“Whatever. A parade has a beginning and an end.”
“Yes.”
“This parade is mapped. We have a map to follow and a map to create. A sound map, a visual map, a geographical map, and an empirical map.”
“I heard you before I saw you, the trumpet first, then the chanting. What kind of sound can we follow?”
“And what steps? Nikolaos favoured the military two-step, a collective pace. And order is important in chaos. Which seems to be the flavour of all thought at the moment, how much chaos, versus how much order?”
“At the beginning we encircle, with chairs, and hope to attain harmony, which we did, even with a necessary dissent, to keep us focussed. Then we decide what the conditions of movement are. What makes a parade. We have a direction, perhaps a combined purpose, perhaps a unified sound, a gesture, a banner, a colour. We decide on the rules that make us a together and keep us an apart.”
“Because we’re all new, and there is fear as well as trust.”
“Yes and we mitigate the fear with a libertarian trust.”
“And we know that the parade draws focus, perhaps away from our weakness as individuals, eyes drawn to the dragon, rather than his thousand soft shoes.”