What I was planning to say is that last night at my show the host was wanting to create an original moment with any willing audience member to play the piano while he sang. They would improve on a theme shouted from the drunken audience.
He found a beautiful young woman with super curly doll like hair to play. The theme they got was "you don't know shit about shit".
I was hiding behind the thick red curtain, as I usually do at this venue watching the peoples faces watch the show.
I like to stare at them for a long time. You can sometimes read their lips or think that you can read their minds, or how they are or aren't digesting the show.
It's tight quarters in that club, high heeled crossed legs hit the front of the stage. Glitter flys out of gloves and panties and into drinks and onto empty dinner plates.
I watch them watch the dancers, so animated, exploding with energy and camp and bling and shiny cartoon faces and intricate, one of a kind ridiculous costuming that comes off their bodies in brilliant and thrilling ways.
I watch the people watching, they are happy looking, free...tentative, judging, stone, confused, drunk, unhappy.
We don't always live in the world the people coming to see the show live in. They want to see a thing they may not know about. When you do know about it, perhaps it's less magical? No. It still is heart wrenchingly beautiful at moments to me.
When you learn all about the thing that you are enchanted by, are you over it, or more invested, more curious, more energized to go deeper?
On Friday I will have been bellydancing for 11 years.
So yeah.
The host and the doll hair woman are going at it. He's struggling to get into her dark song she is improving. He finds a road in and I love it. From behind the curtain I know the song they are making is funny, but I am holding back tears.
This summer I began saying frequently "I don't know anything about anything. I feel like I am zero".
This was a really new place for me. freeing and terrifying. What about all the things I have tried and figured out and discovered and known and solved.
No, everything in the house ended up in the pool:
The nursery furniture, the blender, the bedding, the chairs and bikes, all the silverwear and dressers and bookshelves.
forget the house.
you don't know anything about anything.
that house was infested. burned, blown away, crumbled.
What house?
I'm not going to fish my pillow out of the deep end and insist on sleeping with it.
I'm not that crazy. I'd rather sleep with nothing. See if perhaps my head even requires a pillow at all, I don't know, not all heads want the same thing...
It's sad though, looking at all your things floating on the surface, ripply looking down at the bottom. All the books you knew about, touched, believed in, slowly warping and unbinding themselves, turning back into pulp.
What do you do?
How do you exist after that? Without even a hobo stick with a kerchief at the end holding a small bundle.
Ideas are dangerous. I don't want to hold on to them too tight. I really don't know. I feel empty of knowing. What I thought I knew is waterlogged, I am floating in a life boat. Its unbelievable what i see below me. everything is green and blue and black. Things that I held in my warm hand, kissed with my lips and treasured, are covered in moss and muck. Everything is wet and everything wet is terrible and sad. my hair is soaked from the rain and tears and my hands are white with white raisin fingers. all my make up is washed off and underneath my mom says i looked like i used to when I was a kid. She hasn't seen me out of drag in 15 years. she says i look like my grandmother. I look like her grandmother, i look like the ocean, i look like the riptide I swam out of, i look like unrecognizable moss covered objects that sunk to the bottom.
I float out of the boat. Up real high you can't even see the ocean. From here it turns into a blanket. You can even pretend it's warm. I think about finding a pillow to match. I shake my head and remember about them. I float and think, still, "I don't know anything about anything, I am zero".
No comments:
Post a Comment