The clowns performed at a daycare center & a nursing home. Half the show consisted of classic skits that they were taught by their instructor, but the other half -- delightfully -- the kids made up themselves. They made no sense whatsoever. We could only tell the skit was over because the clowns wandered off stage. Phoebe was in a skit she helped "write" that cosisted of hiding under a table cloth honking an "ah-oooga" horn and then being chased. Mo's orignal skit was simply boy clowns with guns. Mo's perferred gun rest? In his mouth, of course. He sat up on stage looking as though he were about to gleefully off himself with a pistol.
Perhaps I'm a bad mother, but the funniest part of the whole thing was when Mo got his feelings hurt and sat there in his full clown get-up and cried big fat clown tears. Of course I stuck a camera in his face to document the moment, runny make-up and all.
Oliver, bless his heart, was too young for Clown Camp. He did, however, get a toy race car from the thrift store....I'm not sure that makes up for it, but it helped.
5 comments:
Greatest picture of Mo ever. The sad clown one that is . . .
Wish I could've seen the performance!! I'm a proud tia of a bunch of clowns!
there's some sad things known to man,
but not too much sadder than
the tears of a clown
From the story and the look of the photos, your children might have a future in either performance art (that´s a given) or the Spanish vanguard movement of the 1920s when artists were pleased to fly in the face of traditional "meaning" and, in a sense, give the finger to those who tried to understand what they were doing. I´ll tell them all about it when I see them next.
oooh, i vote for the vangaurd movement because...really...meaning is so overrated.
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