This is my face. This is my face after playing the first live show in a year. A woman read about me in the newspaper and reached out to host a small and safe gathering once restrictions lifted. Ten ladies. I can't even describe what I feel, but I can tell you that I arrived to find them sitting in formation, and it took exactly half a second to get into Orit-mode: not the one sitting in an apartment fretting about the ills of the world. The other Orit. The Orit I thought was gone. I can't come close to putting it into words. Redemptive comes to mind. There was so much love, a kind of love I faintly remembered, the love between performer and audience, a sacred kind of love that holds everyone in the same magical zone for the duration of the show. Applause (remember that sound?), laughter, smiles, nods of thoughtfulness, joy. Joy. JOY. Energy. Strength. CDs sold. Cash. Remember cash? The offer of more concerts by some of the attendees, wanting to host their own. This is how it all started, and this is how it's all starting again. Maybe. Hopefully. I can't describe how I feel, but I'm gonna hold on to it for a while.
Orit Shimoni, AKA Little Birdie, is a traveling writer, teacher and musician.