On an engagement party trip in Mexico, Priscilla discovered her fear of heights. Her fiance had a vision to propose to her at the top of a Yucatan jungle bridge, then bungee jump off of it. But, she was too scared. Add that to the list of her countless other phobias: spiders, big rig trucks, crowds, white pants. Cowering at the bridge railing, she found could not live up to her promise to her fiance to
"take more risks." At least, not this one. The incident proved fatal
to the wedding plans, leading Mr. Almost Right to declare, months later:
"I just don't think anyone who truly knew herself would have balked
at that bridge." Yikes.
After weeks sobbing at her mother's kitchen table Priscilla ventured up into the attic, on a mission of self knowledge. What did she find but a box of photos, sepia toned. Among them a portrait of derring do if ever there was: A young woman with bobbed, curly hair, perched in mid-air on a rope, a balancing stick held straight across her waist. Calm, cool, confident, she was everything Priscilla longed to be. Who was the tightrope walker? None other than her great great aunt Cristina.
Days later Priscilla tied a rope between two elm trees in her childhood back yard, felt her feet burn as the fiber dug into her flesh, and fell off before she took even one step.
But by the end of week two she'd made it across once, no falls, and a project had begun.
On sabbatical from her Ph.D. program in Performance Studies at NYU, Priscilla took a year to walk in the footsteps of an eccentric family member, and find physical and emotional confidence on the ropes. Her year of precarious balance culminates with a public performance that will make everyone gasp.
