Like this one.
There's something about them, particularly these "spontaneous" dance ones, where a bunch of people turn a shopping center, or a train station, or a battleship into a Broadway musical. (Though this is also awesome.)
One part is that it's not "spontaneous" at all. They involve hard work, rehearsal, preparation. Working in theatre, none of that is new to me. But the idea of 20,000 people and not all of them being theatre people, mostly just regular people who like the idea doing that work, and being willing to jump in, just kind of fills my heart with joy. Dan Kois nails that part of it here, talking about the famous wedding dance, but it goes for all of these.
(A sidenote: as I was clicking through links for this post, I came across this. The two kids in the wedding video have put together a website requesting donations for a non-profit that deals with domestic violence. I think I might love them both a little now.)
But there's also the sense of community that comes out of these videos, the child-like wonder you can even see on Oprah's face, of having art magically spring up in front of your eyes. More art should be like that, feel like that, I think. Like it welled up, naturally, irresistably from the very earth beneath your feet. Like 20,000 people, unconsciously, simultaneously thought, "Let's move our arms this way. That will look beautiful." And then they did.
I think I watched that video about four times yesterday. I made my roommate watch it. I posted it on my facebook page. And every time, I got a little teary. Because it was 9/11 and because, for me, these videos are about community and reaching out. Connecting to your neighbor in some way, even for four minutes, standing on Michigan Avenue, and I can connect here, thousands of miles away and you can connect there, wherever you are, and share, for a little bit, that child-like wonder. It feels like, despite facebook, blogs, American Idol and whatever, the chances to be a part of something bigger than you and to know you're not alone are few and far between these days. I want to cherish these moments when I know, in a crowded space, I'm not alone.
I can see why people love the freaking wave.
