I am Ophelia, Queen of Necrophilia

Monday, January 26th, 2004 | Art, Friends

Today I attempted to shoot Dean’s lips, for a sort of bear-lips dentata grid, furry folds of cub-devouring flesh surrounding a void of nothingness, but found that my camera couldn’t get close enough, or that he couldn’t open his mouth wide enough. (It all came back.) I photographed him anyway, and then ordered an extension tube for my Hassey and plan to re-shoot next week. Maybe there’s something in the photos from today that could be pieced together into something strange and toothy, who knows. Stay tuned.

So I am playing Ophelia, after all, Friday night. And Fortinbras, briefly. For Ophelia, I am inhabiting a sexy 70’s black chick as inspiration, except when I have to sing an excerpt from Yentl, and magically transform into Barbra.

Speaking of inhabiting someone else, I can’t wait to inhabit my self again. “And that’s when he became the sad Carlotta…” Structurally, the breakup with Bob has presented challenges that I hadn’t anticipated–I did everything that interested me with Bob. Yes I have many pals to share these interests with, but none who’d follow up with a rim job. Do I want too much? I spent a lovely evening with Big Chrissy last night, who reminded me yet again of his qualifications. I’m happy at the moment to share his friendship, and remarkable insight, but I just feel empty, and sad, despite going out with the sweet Teddy Bear, a longing, or grieving, for a kind of companionship that comes only with time. So maybe it’s my self by myself that I’m having the hard time adjusting to.

Well, anyway…

Saturday was bear day at the Kabuki. What a bunch of cutie!  Funkybear Martin, Brian, Ted, Chris D, English John, Little James, and our special guest star, Arno from Seattle, steamed ourselves silly, even clogged the filter in the cold plunge. I got gonged twice while chatting up Arno. We quickly moved into the steam room where Arno helped me with my salt rub, much to my delight, and then, after noodles, ended a perfect day by smushing his hairy butt crack against the window of Ted’s car as we dropped him off at his hotel. Sigh. I heard my college professor, Hank Wessel, “Always take your camera with you…” Indeed.

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