the senses of the CFPA

what you’ll TASTE

—cold, filtered water

what you’ll SMELL

—your neighbors dinner cooking in the kitchen

—the old wooden bones of the building

what you’ll TOUCH

—a bed made of paper, but comfortable nonetheless

—icy tile floors

—masking tape and a sharpie, for labeling the cabinet you made yours

what you’ll SEE

—minis running around in tutus

—the sun beaming through floor to ceiling windows, falling on backpacks, coats, and shoes with socks stuffed inside them

—orchestras displaying stunning diversity

—play and expression fostered by a sense of safety and security

what you’ll HEAR

—choirs you thought only existed in movies

—the tap of ballroom heels

—rhythmic stomps

—piano, seemingly being played only for you

—eerie silence (when you notice the noise stop, you’ll go looking for it)

what you’ll FEEL

—inspiration from being surrounded by artists

—nostalgia for your childhood (you’ll wish you had a place like this, or you’ll long to go back to when you did)

—the confidence to try

—the warmth of the community happening around you

—as if you’re at the zoo, in awe of the beauty tucked inside those walls

—like you are not quite a friend, but no longer a stranger