SheFallsSoftly

Recently, I’ve had such an intense obsession with art that I’ve almost lost myself in all of my dabbling. I feel myself trickle like water or mercury through interests in painting and drawing and dancing and modeling. This may not seem strange, especially not for me, not until you begin to realize that I’ve stopped writing. I’ve stopped writing about everything–about my day, about myself, in poetry, in journals, even in my planner. I haven’t written out my plans for the night in maybe a month. I don’t know what caused this newfound need for visual art in the days previous, but currently I feel disheartened by my sheer lack of intensity. Sylvia Plath was published in national magazines while she was in highschool. I’ve managed to slip pieces into a few random periodicals that are likely out of print now, but never anything even resembling what she’s done. Her short stories were good enough to be featured, even though she submitted about 50 of them before being accepted. 50 short stories! I don’t know that I’ve written enough of them to enter into double digits and she wrote 50 that she deemed good enough to submit within just a few years.

She also wrote, though, after she had reached greater maturity in her writing, that a few good poems a year seemed like a lot to her. I, of course, have not entered anything resembling maturity in my writing, but I understand that feeling. The one glowing beacon of beauty that will anchor you for months before it floats so far in the distance that you believe you’ll never again see anything like it… Oh, I’ve been there… I want to saturate every instant of my life in such unbearable beauty that it seeps through the pages and pictures and movements and leaves trails like watercolors or spider’s silk behind me so it can be traced and understood and formed together into a singular image of the motivation and passion and interest and amazement and joy and rapture of my life. I want every instance of my life to be a discovery in how to do something that no one else has done.

 I think I stopped writing because I was sick of writing about my day. Once a month I would come here and force myself to type out a few pages about recent activities, but I wasn’t finding expression anymore. Not really. Maybe that’s why I’ve stopped using my journal… In the first few pages of it I explained that I would be using it to "keep calm" to learn to be "more sane." How guilty is it necessary that I feel about my depression and hurt? I stopped writing poetry because it makes me hysterical. I chose that word intentionally. Maybe I will start to use this journal in a new way that isn’t just a rambling explanation of how the people in my life affect me. Maybe I’ll start writing again, something new and different that I’ve never tried before. I’d like to learn to write fiction. That seems important, somehow.

Mad Girl’s Love Song was a villanelle. How on earth did she manage to disguise the form so beautifully?

So, Carnality Ball is the big news du jour. It happened last night and was ridiculously awesome. I guess I’ll give you the line by line?

I got there at 8 (right when it was supposed to open) so that Nicole Moan could tie me into my corset (which I bought about a week ago). Because no night is complete without me doing something ridiculously stupid, I locked my keys into my car and therefore left my money in there too. I had the good sense to bring my ticket with me, though, and Billy had a spare set at his apartment only a few miles away. I did, however, get to hang around carnality without my money or phone for about 2 hours waiting for him to show up with Andrea and Chris while Rebekah and I struggled to get my corset onto me right and talked with a porn star among others.

I managed to miss the dance performance by OU’s modern dance company, but caught Perpetual Motion’s arial stuff. I thought it was really interesting to watch, lots of incredible acrobatics, but not really my bag as far as dance goes. I also saw Pseudodance’s performance. They went up twice, once at the very beginning to be painted while dancing. They were airbrushed by Nicole Moan’s father. Apparently after this performance Leila was tipped 5 dollars by a random woman, thus inspiring the vicarious bit of esprit d’escalier of the title of this post. Their second performance was absolutely incredible. They did essentially 2 married pieces, and one other right after. It was a very interesting take on bondage as a form of looking for connections (I think).

The fascinating thing about Pseudodance/Kabaret Falschtanz is the way in which they regard sexuality. At their Kabaret shows, they make fun of it, they get hurt by it, they engage in it. They confront sexuality head on. At their Modern shows, they engage sexuality in such an incredibly raw way, so bare in their portrayal of human nature. In their song set they were being tied to things and each other and blindfolded, stranded away from the other dancers, and they would reach out in the most mournful way, when they would finally receive touch it was only with this look of deep sorrow on their face. Leila and Lynna did the most heartbreaking piece I’ve ever watched atop a spinning platform, just wrapped up in eachother and making the subtlest expressions and movements, turning, turning, turning, needing, needing, needing, but seemingly never getting quite what they are looking for.

I was absolutely stunned by their work. I always am, though. In their set Leila cut her foot and danced through it. That was pretty hardcore on her part.

At some point, there was a whipping demonstration on stage which I watched for about 5 minutes before getting inexplicably uncomfortable with the situation. I’m not entirely certain… regardless, about half an hour later they were demonstrating on willing audience members and I played mistress while my leashed Andrea got beaten. It was quite the event.

Somewhere in all of this mess I bought myself $20 worth of raffle tickets for a gift basket that included a ceramic corset by Nicole Moan, a bunch of movies, some buttons, a bunch of condoms, and some sex toys. I had to stay until 2 am to find out if I had won the drawing (oh my goodness exhausted) and actually did! I now am the proud owner of one green flame corset, and one lovely purple one. Fantastic.

It was a long night, but was terrific. I got hit on by dozens of boys and ending up claiming anyone I knew around me as my significant other. I got called beautiful more times than I could count. I did the makeup of several people, got some dressed, did some hair, and we all looked stunning. I got to watch a lot of what turned out to be less "sexy" in a conventional sense and more "philosophical" in the sense that every part of show forced me to really consider what sex meant to me, what sexy was to me. That and it was all good fun.

Been awhile, hasn’t it? I don’t have a good explanation. Things have been worrisome and okay and then worrisome again and finally okay. There have been lots of medical concerns in my life, and none on me, and they have all come back with good results. Medical issues have been a theme of the month. Billy has gotten sick, and a few others.

On the flip side, everyone in my life has been very grown up recently. Billy bought a very lovely house, Leila bought her own car; it’s all rather impressive. Me and my zero financial dependence on the parents sort of looks unimpressive when you consider the quantity of financial aid that i’ve gotten.

I’ve been spending more and more time with Chris as of late, and lots of conversations with Rebekah. It’s nice to feel like I’ve got a sturdy group of friends to fall back on when I need them.

Carnality ball is this weekend, an event I have been gearing up for with much anticipation. I’ve purchased a porcelain corset from Nicole Moan with a green flame print, and will likely look pretty rocking hot. Coming with me will be Billy (whose makeup I get to do!), Chris (whose chest I will be painting), Rebekah, Andrea, and maybe others.

My life has been peaceful recently. Financially at ease, relationship is calm and happy, friends to spend time with, family without drama… the lives of those around me, though, they have been the messy ones. I will count April as a good month for me and move past it.

I finished my finals as of yesterday, and am now free for the month. Billy and I are going to South Padre Island for a weekend at the end of it, and then I start summer school for a month. The last month of summer will be free as well.