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Inspired byCelebration, Something Special, in her glass are moon cubes, firework outside, flowers on the table. The Cloudburst of Material Possessions: Leonardo’s deluge spirals through Rudolf II’s cabinet of wonders. Furniture, jewels and clocks rain upon Giulio Romano’s giants, crushed beneath collapsing Olympus in Mantua. Jamnitzer’s silver Daphne sprouts crimson coral amid shattered Palissy ceramics crawling with glazed serpents, frogs and shells. Through the wreckage rises the Orient, a luminous human Branch building a temple from dawn. Immersive Renaissance nightmare, turbulent chiaroscuro, intricate textures, monumental depth. No text.
Every day is another incredible birthday.
I thought that was a satisfactory arrangement until I saw the flowers living inside the glass bowl. They had no calendar. A pink flower opened whenever it felt like arriving.
The moon looked through the window. It had brought nothing, which was all right. Nobody had invited it to feel embarrassed about presents.
On the table were jewels, scattered petals, and an open book that had forgotten what it was trying to explain. Somebody had spilled a small red planet beside the silver urn.
It was that kind of evening.
“Perhaps a day is too long,” you said.
You were right. By the time we finished celebrating the morning, several thousand moments had gone by without so much as a candle.
We decided to give each one a birthday.
The first belonged to your hand resting on the table.
The second belonged to the space between your fingers.
The third came and went while we were looking for matches. We celebrated it afterward. There was no complaint.
Soon the room was full of birthdays. They settled on the roses and stood quietly among the plates in the cabinet. One got inside the book and changed the ending of a sad story.
You wondered whether you deserved so many.
I handed you a flower.
It had never done anything to deserve being a flower. It had simply come up through the dirt, and there it was, doing the whole thing beautifully.
Your incredible, perfect self sat across from me with a tired face and a little crumb on your sleeve.
I liked the crumb. I hoped you would leave it there.
Outside, the moon moved a small distance. Inside, you took a breath.
We had barely finished wishing you a happy birthday when you took another.
