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A Nevadan Ass

Dreamed 2007/5/17 by Wayan

Central Nevada. Broad sagebrush valley. I work
in my cramped office--a trailer on cinderblock.
The ranch accountant, I can pass as human, but
my earliest memory is being a horse. Years on
two feet, but I'm still more of an equine soul
than a man.

A cowboy strides in. Jokes "It's time to sell my ass."
Despite Nevada's rep for prostitution, he puns--
owns a glum mule he hopes to foist on a uranium
miner. He repeats his crack, voice edging into mock.
Has he spotted how mares look hotter to me than
the few cowgirls here? Do they all gossip, laugh
at furverted me?

Maybe I should just give up my human guise
for stallionity again. But I bet the men
would treat me as a feral to be shot, or ranch
property: a thing.

And I know myself. As a horse, I'd start to run
from all those fair mares, and pine for some
two-leg girl. Oh, that brain! those thumbs! I'd be
leaping fences to sniff after her. Aside from
language problems, there's also my overness in
size. And sighs.

Always I long for whoever's wrong
for my current form--man, equine,
whatever I am. Oh, I'm
sick of love-sabotage. At least of pine.

. Dream sketch by Wayan. Click to enlarge.



Off to "Experimental Art" class--not that it really is! Vic the teacher's into industrial design and the students are commercial artists and product designers--except me. I draw dream comics. As they sing on Sesame Street, "One of these things is not like the others, one of these things doesn't belong..."

Not just a tough crowd to show painfully personal art. Showing it's a challenge. How can I let a whole class read a single comic in 10-15 minutes? I only finished it late last night, and printed one color copy. Even if I had time, I can't afford to print many.

Solution: I lay out black cloth on a line of waist-high worktables, then a slightly winding path of scattered leaves--the 32 pages of Polygon Dreams: cover, intro, Try Angles, Pentalemma, City of Bees, Freedom Through Boxes with new intro (and in color for first time), Spirography my spiral bio, then my conclusions about shapes, and for a back cover, The Unigon.

Thumbnail of cover of comic 'Polygon Dreams'. Click to read comic.
Polygon Dreams
Thumbnail of 'Try Angles' by Wayan. Click to read comic.
Try Angles
Thumbnail of 'Pentalemma' p.12, by Wayan. Click to read comic.
page 12
Thumbnail of 'City of Bees' p.3, by Wayan. Click to read comic.
City of Bees
page 3
Thumbnail of 'Freedom through Boxes' p.6, by Wayan. Click to read comic.
Freedom through Boxes
page 6
Thumbnail of 'Spirography' by Wayan. Click to read comic.
(author bio)
Thumbnail of 'The Unigon' by Wayan. Click to read comic.
The Unigon
back cover

Oh, they are experimental design--they explore how the shape of panels--triangle, square, pentagon, hexagon, circle, spiral--affect comics storytelling. My teacher privately asked me to risk showing some comics to shake up his conventional students a bit. I don't mind the challenge--spurred me to finish the piece! Rabbit girl from comic 'Pentalemma' by Wayan. Click to enlarge.

But... while it's a healthy stretch for them, does this critique shortchange me? Can they really assess such material fairly? Intelligently?

Well, no. They struggle even to absorb such a massive ambitious project. Read? Skim? Just look at the pictures? I suggest "Read the intro and one short piece, then just look at the layouts."

My classmates cluster around City of Bees and Spirography, the boldest geometric pieces; Vic's favorite is Boxes, for its restrained palette and simple grid. It figures--Vic loves boxes and repetition. It's my unloved stepchild, for just those reasons--I find boxes dull. True, those airless constraints wrung deep confessions out of me. But any deeper than the lush fantasies of Pentalemma or the acerbic dream-oracle in City of Bees?

Just as my dream last night warned, the most negative comment is sexual: "the nudity and miniskirts in Pentalemma objectify women"... from a man. I ask if he actually READ it. No, just glanced! So he doesn't even know these women are me in dreams. Subjects, not objects. I wonder if he's really bothered not by the skin but the fur; "women are mere animals"?

Oh, don't speculate. Let it go. Let him go. Them go.

The dream warned I do this--look for love & appreciation outside my own kind. I'm not just outside the mainstream; I'm not very human. Do I really expect kindred spirits among commercial designers? Or in this college at all?


Cheryl & I broke up soon after. I was attracted to her strong animal energy--sohhh not human! But she needed a boyfriend glued to her at the hip; I need lots of quiet time alone. Too... feral. Hard to break lifelong outsider habits!


Even then I suspected I was an Aspie. Now, I know. I need DAYS of solitude. Oversocializing sickens me, literally. Much of what I thought was 'habit' or 'self-image' was hardwired difference--not gonna change. I can either snap & snarl at the genetic cards I got, or accept the vast gulf with grace.

I dreamed I wasn't human because, in many vital ways, I'm not. And never was.

Catgirl alone in rain, from comic 'Pentalemma' by Wayan. Click to enlarge.

DREAM: dream jobs - farm & ranch - deserts - I'm Just Not Myself Today! - shapeshifters - species-bent dreams - horses - dating: frustration, sabotage, advice - dream poetry & digital art
NEXT DAY: college - schools in general - artists & the arts - tests & critiques - predictive dreams - dream-comics - Polygon Dreams - In my first memories, I was a horse
YEARS LATER: breakups - loners & solitude - autism - that furry Utopia

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