Dreamed 2010/12/19 by Wayan
I read Zombies Versus Unicorns, a perverse anthology alternating postmodern tales of guess who. You think oil & water don't mix?
That evening I go to The Marsh, an experimental theater in San Francisco, to see Siddhartha: the Bright Path, a musical bio about two Buddhas--one ancient, one now. Buddha, musicals. Oil, water...
At intermission, this woman's not behind me OR in a critic's seat. Did she stomp out mad? How rude of me to be tall! Hm. I used to feel guilty about stuff like this.
I'm in a world of wolf people. Libertarian wolf people. They live in small steads, each feuding with the next. Or plotting their next little war.
Long ago, in a pass above one farm valley, a portal opened, and a few humans wandered through. They settled parts of the valley. Though not brilliant fighters, they defend their neighbors and are slow to fight among themselves. Slowly, they spread. Not in a unified patch, though; interspersed among wolves. The fractured wolf society lacks a collective sense of "us" and "them"; perhaps, living among them for generations, the humans lack it too. Local is all.
Many wolf steads offer alliances--and sons to marry these funny-looking but peaceful, amiable, successful strangers. Younger sons with a lean and hungry look. Do they expect to take over these clans wolf-style? Not sure that'll work out as expected! But the wolf-sons aren't stupid; they may learn that human cooperation has its advantages.
But maybe wolf-anarchy does too: educates them in politics and war.
I'm curious how these marriages will turn out!
I wonder why the wolf clans send only their young sons--no daughters. The humans take it as a sign the wolves see humans as untrustworthy, and fostering as dangerous; but it occurs to me that the wolves may just be matrilocal--even among wolves, daughters may normally stay put while sons marry out.
Either way, wolf girls won't come to me. So if I want to date wolves--and if I learn anything from this dream, it's that seeing the wolf boys leaves me burning with curiosity about wolf girls--I have to take the initiative. Like these courageous wolf boys, I must practice exogamy. I must go visit a wolf keep.
NOTES IN THE MORNING
ON THE SCULPTURE
She's the first of a series of furry dancers, emphasizing (e)motion and gesture, not anatomy. I'd already started this figure of a wolf dancer--the dream just prompted me to finish her (and get a social life. Still no girlfriend, furry or not, but at least I'm openly hunting now.)
She's made of acrylic spackle. It's quite tough, really. She does have a wire frame inside, but mostly just patching goop.
Technically this was quite challenging, since she's as freestanding as a living dancer--she's not anchored to a pedestal as with most stand-up classical statuary. That's a great way to cheat, to get figures floating, caught in motion--here's an elegant example by Paul Manship, 1910, of Diana and two deer, that impressed me as a kid. Still does.
That's all right for dependent deer, I guess. But I wanted my wolf to stand firmly on her own two feet. Since... that's how her people are.
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