Someone else’s drama – someone else’s desire
I got sucked into a whirlwind of desire – caught between the cross wires of someone else’s drama. It reminded me of the portraits that hang in the Redwood Room in San Francisco. They’re pictures of men and women, and their eyes move and the backstory is that this guy is with this girl but he wants the girl across from him, and she wants the girl next to her, and on and on. What activates desire?
I look at beauty in a person – a body that won’t stop, gorgeous face, white teeth and feel nothing. I look at a scar running down the back, lines around the eyes and mouth, an old bandaide, big feet and feel like I’ll walk off the planet.
But I want this one and that one wants me and this one is confused and meanwhile, there are people, also interested, watching every move. I said to a friend today – I picture myself getting caught up in this drama and thinking I might turn out like Anne Heche, found wandering in some distant town, muttering incoherently to herself. Yes, but, I’m told, she ended up married with a baby. Is she divorced or still married? Happy? Insane?
Why send out all the vibes of desire if it causes so much confusion in the world that suddenly there are crimes of passion? In the living room of the LaLa last night, there were living portraits, me looking at you, you looking at me, the other looking at me, a new person looking at me then you, and I missed all the other looks that were directed at other people. I became both the object of desire and the one who desires.
It was a long night.