We have not yet seen winter's first calendar day, months of darkness and cold stretch out before us with slushy streets and wind howling in the skyscraper canyons. At the Lite Brite Neon party, courtesy of the Brooklyn Guild and Textile Arts Center, the gaieties of the season were on full display. Several artists chiseled ice sculpture out front, a finely detailed owl and a working guitar with strings laid over frets of ice.
Inside, light, precious light. Lite Brite Neon installed neon lights of snowflakes in white and pale blue, and mistletoe. The neon cast a warm, ballroom glow over the wooden floors. Cupcake girls drifted through the crowd with trays of mini cakes in eggnog icing. The bar served a fragrant rum and pomegranate punch.
Then, a chorus swelled in song- the Brooklyn Ladies Choir. No strident glee club, their voices united in soft, clear loveliness. Drifting in their siren hymn, wondering at the impossible beauty of it, I felt this moment of divinity that is a woman's power. They soared through Dear Yoko, S.O.S., and A Place in the Sun.
It is enough to make us stop complaining about winter. Perhaps even for a whole week.
(Above: Ice guitar! complete with string and pick-ups. With the absence of the warm wooden body of a guitar, the sound was in fact icy cold -- like the high pitched sound of a holiday angel!)