Journeys From The Journey -
Textile Narratives

The Courage to Walk through an Open Door

An open door,
music flooding the street,
a choir of chorus boys and
their suitors.

Doing the Timewarp,
Jumping left, jumping right.

The pelvic thrust that
drove everyone insane.
The offer of
old tricks, new tricks,
that made our spirits climb.

Walking home in the
first light of morning.
Doing the best we knew.

Probably not wise,
hopefully not pure.

But dreaming of the house,
the wood,
And making our garden grow.

The fall of 1974 was a season of firsts for me. I moved to NYC from Atlantic City, got a job at an ad agency, and found an apartment with more ease than most. I didn’t know anybody at that time, no friends, gay or straight, and would wander out on Friday night in the Village alone and scared. I began to recognize the gay bars, but was just too scared to open the door and walk in.

I vividly remember seeing Marie’s Crisis and hearing all the show tunes wafting out onto the street, but I would walk around the block, thinking I’d get the courage to walk in. This went on for weeks! Finally, I gave myself a lecture and said, “Just remove yourself from your body, be a spectator, and push your body through that door and get in there." I finally did that and, much to my surprise, the piano was in the front next to the stairs, so I was literally on stage for all to see!

But I pushed my way into the crowd, started talking to people and singing, and the rest is history. To me, I had found a community. I wasn’t afraid ever again.

And I sang my heart out for years!
-T.D.