Leopards at the Fringe
Dreamed 2014/3/28 by Wayan
I'm at the San Francisco Fringe
Festival--onstage. Our crazy play is set
on a round mound, founted, rocked
and pooled. Patrons ring the hump, yet
no playgoer sees all--it bulges so!
Each sees some unique scenario
whose crags occlude as much as frame.
(Of course, that's only true in dream.)
We call it "performance orgy". I play twin roles
My other part's a man, collared and leashed:
a panther-girl's boytoy. As roles go, easier--
less lines to memorize. A phallic odalisque,
I need only sprawl, slink terraces and purr
languid on the rocks, and follow her.
Panthera's the one must flaunt a long sly tale--
Wake from dream before I come,
To act, not watch, is better
"Silky", a cattaur 1.5m/5' tall; wood bones, dense foam
muscles. Dream figure © 2014 by Chris Wayan
NOTES IN THE MORNING
The dream's not pure wish. It's partly memories--one immediate, one deep.
I slowly hand-sewed one more seam of a life-size furry sculpture with wood bones, dense foamrubber muscles and springy joints, of a centauroid leopard girl--a recurring dream figure.
As I sewed, I nagged myself: "I'm obsessed. I should get out more!" I just sewed on though. In the grip of art obsession.
But when I went to bed... it was with a dapple creamfurred catgirl and a five-hearted zebra-striped unicorn mare--handsewn dream critters just as big and heavy and warm and muscled any human lover. Without the heartaches. And I rocked until I came, and purred myself to sleep.
At the 2003 San Francisco Fringe Festival, I saw a play called 'MAID by Erik Ehn. It was sort of The Little Mermaid in reverse. A girl painfully sews her legs together to become a mermaid. Giving up sex with men to gain magic, the sea, women... their tongues? Her own?
My dream clearly echoes that show--at least, it too was theatre-in-the-round about sexy nonhuman people on a raised stage with water.
But not, I think, idle play. I think the dream stitched these disparate memories together to make a needle-sharp point:
Strange though it looks to others, I, like the 'Maid, am slowly sewing my heart's desire.
Action: Ignore the voice of normality. And sew on.
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