This photo of a dancing line of babies is framed on a windowsill in a nearby office. I have unofficially decided to call it “Broadway Babies”. I have been thinking about it for almost a week since it first startled me into taking a picture of it with my camera-phone, and I have five questions, one for each baby:
Baby #1:Why commemorate you in a wooden frame?
Baby #2: What should I do if my infant develops a spontaneous knowledge of dance, choreography and costumery and puts on an impromptu campy musical performance?
Baby#3: Who came to this show? Other babies who can’t dance?
Baby#4: Is this the best line of babies dancing show or some kind of amateur local baby theater production?
Baby#5: Is that a baby sized stage, or are you a troupe of giant (horrible) babies in pink feathery hats?
Line of dancing babies, I thank you for a week of puzzling over your existence, like a Zen riddle of dance themed newborn art, you confound the senses and contradict all existence everywhere.