(lights come up on a very large young woman standing before a rather tiny clear box. It is the Circular Quay at Sydney Harbor. The woman is a busker. She surveys the invisible crowd for a long minute and then speaks )

WOMAN: That’s all right. Go about your business. It’s a beautiful morning for it. For missing what is just under your nose. Yes, sir, that’s right. It’s me. Just under your nose. Keep walking. Keep moving. Don’t stop to see something you won’t see again in a blue moon. (she stands still a long minute) Come on, all you need is ten minutes of my time. You can spare ten minutes, eh? What’s ahead of you? A bloody day where you are tyrannized by a bloody boss. That’s all. And then, the Pub. Drinks all round. Home to the telly. I might be the most exciting thing you encounter all week, all month. (she gives up. Tries another side) Do you want to see something truly astounding? Not something like in the movies…but real. Here. In the sunlight. Just me and a box. What do you imagine we could do together? (smiles) Oh, you are a curious one. Infact, you’re a naughty one. I like you. It’s people like you change the world. (looks around and runs to other edge of stage) Yes, yes. I like a good crowd. Stay ten minutes. You won’t be disappointed. I’m going to do something that will not even make you sorry you parted with money. Oh, don’t hold on to your wallet. I’m just warming up the crowd. Gathering the crowd. (looks around happily) Yes, some more of you arrived. See me? See the box? That’s the whole act. The whole routine. The box is there. I am here. We need to get together, this box and I. We need to become one. How very Zen! Yes, I will fit myself into that little box. Great big me. Condensed. You laugh! I can see the smiles. You doubt that I can do it. I know you’ve heard of one born every minute. (listens) No, mate, I meant me. I meant I’m the one born every….oh, forget it! Got a chip on your shoulder, that’s what you’ve got. Got out of bed on the wrong side…or alone. (laughs) That’s what we like. To hear the laughter. In the morning. On the Circular Quay. So…(pauses a minute) Before I start trying to get this massive flesh in that little container, got to do some warmups. You don’t think I could do this unless I got my muscles going, do you? Meanwhile I’ll put a hat here for some preliminary palm-greasing. (puts the hat down and waits) Oh shy are we? How shy? I take all kinds of dollars. Yankee, Canadian, Aussie. I take Pounds, I take Euros. Rubles. Zlotys. Don’t stop me now. I am a global taker! (looks to hat) Thanks. Ta. Let’s get the pot started here. Just some encouragement for a poor starving sheila. (listens) What do mean I don’t look like I’m starving? Are you implying I’m well-nourished? Much-nourished? I like to eat. That’s why I’ve developed my talent. To earn my daily bread…Looks can be deceiving. I can be deceiving. I mean, the whole bloody point is that to look at me you’d never think I could fit in there. (points to the box) It took a lot of work. A lot of training to get this old body in that little space. A physicist would say it couldn’t be done. (angrily) Oh, and are you a physicist? Oh, you are. Well, you can pay up when I show you. But first, my warm-ups. (she puts on music from a boombox and goes through a series of useless contortions) Fine, fine. Have your laugh. I’d like to see you fit in there. (points to box) I used to have a boyfriend that couldn’t fit into a thing, if you get my meaning. Well, no need to get huffy. I didn’t mean you. You’re a bit past it to be my boyfriend. Now it will just take a minute. (looks in hat) Oh, I see we’re being generous this morning. Two of us anyway. (sighs) Well, can’t wait all day. Let me first say….(she starts to put a toe into box) Just testing the waters. (stands in box) Oh, it’s almost comfy. Well, it will be. Let me tell you that it wasn’t easy at first. How did I get the idea? (jumps out of box) I have to admit I was a little thinner then. Easier. I started learning this trick in India where my boyfriend lived. No, that the boyfriend who didn’t fit. This boyfriend used to tell me if I learned to put myself into a box I would have the discipline to see God. That’s right! God! And since I’d never seen God, I thought – well now, let’s give it a go.

BOXING IT/2

The thing about the box is that you can’t look at it as your enemy. You have to think of it as – well, a dancing partner. It’s Fred and I’m Ginger. The music has begun….(changes music in boombox to something like a slow dance of old) You look at your partner. He takes your hand and…..(the lights change) It’s rhythm, it’s harmony….well, in actual fact, it’s life at it’s finest. (she starts to shrink and twist. At no time does she ever touch the box) Like all good efforts, it needs audience for appreciation. Don’t go away or the illusion will evaporate. And wait with the questions! I’m in the process of transforming my molecules….into…..(shrinks lower and lower until she is as compressed as she can be) There! Moving those atoms around. Shrink wrapped. Shrinking. (mutters) I need a shrink. (in a little voice) My Kingdom for a shrink! (Lights flashing) All right. Take your pictures. Show it around. Drop some money for me. There now. It’s done. (Lights come up) Done, I say. (looks in hat) Oh, loverly, luv. That should get me some shrimp on the barbie. What’s this? A condom? Hey, mate. I don’t need a….. Never mind. It’s a beautiful day at Sydney Harbor. I can take a little fun. A little protection. Tell your Friends. They’ll never believe it. (to someone who comes up to her) How did I do it? Mind over matter, Of course. (counts the money, sitting on the box after turning it over) Christ, I got to get me a real job. This one needs some thinking….thinking outside the box. (laughs) Yeah. That’s what it is. Outside the Box. Inside the box. Boxing it. (she takes her boombox, her box and her hat and goes off whistling)

--the end--