Houston, Texas

ACCOMMODATIONS: 

Our  hotel is smooth cool concrete carefully cut with expensive paint and light fixtures. Tall corridors of sleek, the smell of art.

Outside it is Texas, covered in concrete that is burning like a stove set on high, the cinnamon bun swirl blazing neon orange.

Step out the whooshing glass doors and it is thick hot air that holds you, gets into your bones and pulls the sweat out, beads pumped out- machine sweat.

Everyone says "yall"  here, which is so sweet and human sounding. 

My ears change as I travel and listen to so many voices, every accent slipping a little note under my door- surprising me, reminding me.

THE VENUE:  

It's a million degrees outside still, I walk into the huge fright elevator with my costume bag and Richard with his, it is a bit cooler. It's here that my eyes shoot open and narrow in, on to this elevator person who is taking us up... 

It happens to my whole body. 

Not Many People Have 

This Affect On Me. 

It's not a situation I have cognitive control over: The universe of chakras align, hormones buzz, mind jumps out the window.  Aura glows- spreads out like  pancake batter on the greased pan, expanding, creeping closer, solidifying.

Becoming.

This forming is serious, becomes tactile, it will need to be attended to- first watched, then carefully flipped. 

It now has a life of it's own. Wanting sets in like fire, give it oxygen and it's off. Whoosh, ablaze.

She is breathing and lives in and over me.  A cobra hood reaching around my human sized head, directing my motions. She makes me breathe hotter, she is the one that has this power, running inside my veins moving me closer. Sizzling my skin to the edge of the square pan. A new shape. A mission.

I am in the freight elevator, feet in heels standing on the industrial silver metal flooring. Huge doors open up and down like a monster mouth. In all this ridiculous make up and sprayed-put-fake and real hair, l feel like a popped off carnival head, dropped down the gutter, now bobbing inside the monster belly.

Where am I?  In Texas somewhere. Elevator. Hotel. Plane. Bus. Hotel. Green Room. Stage. Green Room. Hotel. Bus plane stage hotelbus stage greenroomplanebusstagebushotel... In this particular freight elevator everything stops for me.

THE ELEVATOR:

The cobra is booming and focused. My body is buzzing, my teeth, buzzing close to the ledge jumping brain. 

He is thin in the corner, huge glasses, leaning on the road case, eyes, deer eyes, staring at the mouth doors. 

He is ice cream sandwich beautiful, skinny, serious unicorn person. Seeing him is like that- you don't believe it's real

make-believe stubbornly before you, eyes blink blink.

No sound will leave your mouth, just a buzzing body.

There is a tiger staring at me on his bending and straightening elbow. Up and down on the elevator I see him, he is magic shaped as a human.

Over and over he moves big things and I stare, inside me every chakara is spinning wildly, I am levitating.

I remind myself to breathe, I am terribly aware of every corner of the room, the backstage area where my quick change is set up. 

The back of my head is watching, waiting for him to pass by. The room is all black and I am laying out my costumes, one piece at a time, black and blue fabric with little sparkles. I count all the pieces and keep my behind eyes open. 

Waiting,  like a hunter in the dark- He is Full Color. Glowing Sandwich. My mouth is salivating, rehab heart relapsing, clicking and clacking around in my heels. 

I am terrified to speak to him, I am mute as a clown, a bobble head with four eyes watching, floating.

Unable to speak to the elevator ice cream sandwich boy.

It was just an elevator, inside another blurry venue

but inside this one,  

was

this 

boy 

with an elbow 

and these deer eyes , huge bulky glasses, 

skinny sweaty tiny magic of a human with a hidden trap door  

I fell down it, the moment I stepped in that elevator

I got lost 

in him.