I can’t reach things. Why are domestic spaces constructed such that I cannot reach things that are stored in the places provided for storage? Who has time to go out to the garage and get a ladder? I stack furniture and use cooking utensils. In this performance, a small key hangs mockingly from a nail at the top of a twelve foot wall. I must get it—the audience does not need to know why. I stack and then duct tape various household items—a step stool, a side table, a cabinet—then don my bike helmet (safety first!) and platform shoes and climb my “ladder” to reach the key. It takes several tries and, at last, a spatula does the trick. Absurdity, humor and silent movies are evoked. In a subsequent performance one week later, I returned the key. Neither I nor the furniture “ladder” fell. Both performances were live, in real time, with viewers.