Posted in Almost Dorothy

A Prayer for a Red Room

Red Velvet | Photo by Neil de la Flor
Red Velvet | Photo by Neil de la Flor

1. I had my money on him like I have money like I’m sick of him trying to get to me like Jesus.

2. He walks through my red living room to the other red room wearing a jockstrap and high-heel boots.

3. He carries white roses in case it’s Christmas.

4. He is not a jock or Christ-like, but his chin is sanctified.

5. The strap pulls strangely around his cheeks looking like the jowl of a skinny pitbull.

6. He sits on the sofa and the sofa is surrounded by candles that are lit and not lit and he is lit and I’m unaware that he is.

7. He is positive yoga will solve history. And dance. And cartography.

8. Life is interesting, I say, when you become interested in life.

9. He is in the corner of the room kicking at the demons and blames me for leaving the mattress alone.

10. He shaves his or her hair and Lakshmi doesn’t want anymore children because Shiva has turned blue and cold even though he is dancing.

11. Always dancing.

12. He reads the illustrated Holy Bible in my red red room and the red room reads with him. The red velvet curtains seal the red room as the incense from New Mexico burns on the fireplace lined with paper dolls—

13. of Jesus & Mary, of all the saints & all the apostles, of the one true God–as the archangels swoop down and set fire to them.

14. An effigy of the burning boy burns in the red room of paper dolls.

Posted in Almost Dorothy

14 things I resolve to do for 2013 in no particular disorder

Saint Louis  Cemetery 1 | Photo by Neil de la Flor
Saint Louis Cemetery 1 | Photo by Neil de la Flor

1. I resolve to love ma more and everyone more even when I’m all monsters because when the room becomes a spectacle of neon madness hugs work like magic.

2. I resolve to have sex before my 14th birthday so that I will know for certain the meaning of sex and I resolve to determine my sex.

3. I resolve to set fire to the rain and prove that Adele ain’t all that.

4. I resolve to disorder the cosmos and create quantum singularities in specific locations around the universe so that no one, not even god or his gay disciples, will lose sight of the importance of quantum pluralities.

5. I resolve to rename Buddha, Ganesha and Shiva…Ernie, Bert and Oscar.

6. I resolve to get a full time job manufacturing light and laser beams.

7. I resolve to resolve things in my solemn prayers and to keep my mouth shut and slalom.

8. I resolve to lie more or less.

9. I resolve to be one with the universe and ma’s purse.

10. I resolve to be one with humanity; one with the plants & the animals; cars & trucks; shoes & socks; tears & laughter; the trees & the rocks; ghosts & ghouls; archangels & demons; vampires & thieves; doctors & shaman; nurses & gay men; the gods & one true(ish) God who stumbles across the cosmos in high heels and leggings in our (dis)honor. I swear.

11. I resolve to (dis)honor.

12. I resolve crash & burn & dance & sing & levitate in my most ridiculous elf outfit.

13. I resolve to be one with you and one with me so that there is no one and no thing left in the universe but us—that elusive cosmetic singularity where TWO will enfold into one embrace and never ever be alone again. Amen.

14. I resolve to prophecy.

Posted in Almost Dorothy

14 things I learned this year

Every
Tomb Has a Heart | Photo by Neil de la Flor
Every Tomb Has a Heart | Photo by
Neil de la Flor

1.
Mozart is not a form of art. Mozart creates art out of music which
are squiggles and lines that punctuate the night as ma conjures up
the songs of stars while eating potato chips. In bed.

2. Love is a sin. Sex is a
gift from God.

3.
Sometimes Mozart wears a wig as a boy and sometimes I wear a wig as
Mozart.

4. The magic
flute isn’t a ride at Disney World but every ride is a form of
magic.

5. Never say
bad things. Never have a sense of humor. Never use incense to cast
out ghosts and ghouls unless you’re a psychic vampire. Or naked. In
the backyard. Beneath the full moon and the twinkling
nightlights.

6.
Psychic vampires don’t exist except as tools to dehumanize the
humans who try to heal the human wounds of the world through any
and every means necessary, even through acrobatics and mind
melding, as the real vampires of the world play a game of dice as a
tool to reveal the two sides of the wound. In your room.

7. The devil on your back is
there for a reason.

8. Every tomb had a heart and every
heart has a wound.

9. Photographs are faster than the
speed of kissing.

10. I have an obsessive personality
disorder activated by karma and guilt, kitsch and chaos.

11. I avoid electrical socks
and rush hour traffic.

12. Trauma can be
transferred.

13.
There are no secrets, just blindfolds that lead us to secret
locations.

14.
Humans cry for positive things to happen that have already
happened.

A few more things I
learned but they’re not so important

15. I joined a cult, not a culture
club.

16. The
coolest person in the world sleeps in my bed and barks.

17. We are bound by our silly
nature—not by Ganesha or Shiva, God or some Divine Diva, astral
projections or numerological aspirations—no matter how hard we
pretend.

18.
Sometimes the “Smallest of Things” are bigger than the “Biggest of
Things”.

19. Even if
we die nameless, we always live in shame unless we laugh at our
slips and falls.

20.
I am the two sides of the wound.

21. I may or may not be
pregnant.

Posted in Almost Dorothy, Art + Design

Shiva

20120307-172507.jpgSomewhere between male and female the soul lives unstirred by the memory of childhood. Somewhere between the Destroyer of Obstacles and the Goddess of Fortune the soul lives in a state of constant hip hop guided by a white flashlight. Somewhere between now and now the soul lives possessed by the certainty that it is always in transition and will always live in between the present and the present. Somewhere between Terminal 2 and Terminal 3 the soul lives in a million humans who will pass through life in the third person. Somewhere between the Real Shiva and the Statue of Shiva on display at the Art Institute of Chicago the soul lives in every person. In between the clowns and grapefruits. In between the yellow bus driver and the happy waiter. In between the zoo and the opera house. Between life and death. The soul lives light as a father. Or feather.