A completely different note...

So I said I was gonna blog about my 2nd and final excursion into body/performance art. And having nothing else to talk about these days, and the absolute boredom of a pre-holiday work week, now's as good a time...

A few months after the first show, I get a call from Lelou, the coordinator, asking if I was available for a gallery opening. Sure, why not? She mentioned that Viggo mortensen's work was being featured and there was an overlying geisha theme. Sounds lovely. She was working with Blu, the singer in the house band from the last show, and she'd give me a call.

A few days later I was at blu's house (pardon, blu's downtown loft, beautifully furnished and decked out with "artisty" accessories like an album collection with Joni and Stevie as bookends, no TV, birds of paradise on the table) after work, talking out logistics. I was no good at that, and she mentioned no budget or what the venue was. My main concern was that I didn't have a ride to this place I had never been and would be out til lord knows when. She said she'd gladly take me, and our conversation turned to life. Its funny looking back; we were trying to tell our story and not really listening to the other person. And we managed to talk for hours.

Show day: I got to the location and met up with lelou and "peaches," a army vet and former stripper with a big tattoo on her eversoskinny thigh. I also re-met Omar, my artist for the day. The place looked great; we got a private tour of the museum and the works. Viggo's stuff was really great. It seemed as if you were in a desert, looking at a mirage, and he painted just that image. Beautiful. Also, they had the actual puppets from the movie "the labrtnth." I had never seen the movie but Kesi raves about it every time David Bowie is on tv. Considering that the movie is from the 80's, they held up very well.

About 5PM, I stripped down to get painted. No airbrush this time; acrylics were Omar's medium. Peaches was getting painted, giggling because she couldn't take the swipe of the brushes. This might have been endearing, if she didn't have the WORST laugh ever. It was so throaty and warbly, and it made me wonder how she was ever a stripper. That, and her string bean body. In my mind I broke her down, thinking things I would never say, because if I am going to wear paint and a thong, I need to be completely assured that I'm the baddest thing smoking, whether its true or not. In this case it wasn't so hard.

I was a dragon this time. I was painted top to bottom in blue, then a red and black dragon wrapped around my leg, past my stomach, across my right breast and rested on my shoulder. For extra effect, he went back and painted clouds in the blue, making him fly. Whoo! That girl was sharp! I do regret not getting pictures of the show- I forgot my camera and lost Omar's number. Peaches was a geisha, with a flowered "robe." I think they even added a real satin waist belt to give it a three dimensional look.

Lelou came in some time during the painting saying that the other girl wasn't coming for one reason or another. Feh. Blu had a solution, but, it was a little... Unorthodox. "She's a pre-op transsexual." I said we shouldn't judge until she got here- she might be convincing! You never know.

When Layla (is it wrong that Eric Clapton played in my head every time someone said her name?) arrived with her friend, I had a hard time figuring out which one was the born male. I figured this was because they were doing that good of a job being a woman. I later found out it was because they were both males... Honestly, layla's friend was hotter, more womanly looking. And once layla took of her clothes off, it was a wrap. Her back was not at all gentle. Curves were an illusion brought on by her clothing. Under that, there was no hiding this boy.

But boy did they try. She was painted red, and Asian looking leaves were painted and painted on her. Lelou asked what I thought. "it works." it works in that way that naked transvestites work. We weren't fooling anyone, and "woman" was a state of mind, and no longer a literal description of what the three of us were.

We were set up in instalations on either side of the stage. It was air conditioned for absolutely no reason besides the fact that they wanted to see my little ass shiver. I couldn't just sit there; I needed to increase my temperature. I moved around the room, still trying to look like ambiance, not speaking much. People would ask to take a picture with me, and I would agree, and feel slightly odd when a clothed person would get close. I would be reminded again, hey, I'm not wearing much, huh?

After about an hour, blu's band invited us onstage. You wouldn't believe how much warmer it was up there. Toasty. Alcohol helped too. Her music was a bit too jazzy for my taste- as molded to an obvious impression as her loft was. I couldn't really dance to it, but that didn't stop this one guy, stocky and sweaty, from trying. I remembered him from the last show: he was an artist and did a horrible job of making this girl look like flowers in a field. She ended up looking more like a hippie who let a 9 year old finger paint her. He also was a bit too perverted for my tastes. Everyone had taken these experiences in a professional manner, not blatantly staring as a woman disrobed, but he practically drooled, and we weren't even sure why he was there, especially this time. He would watch an artist painting, but you could tell he wasn't watching the work- it was more like he hadn't seen very many nude women and wanted to take it all in very slowly. Peaches and especially I turned down his advances- I was afraid my paint would be sweated off by him- and he ended up dancing with layla. Even she didn't seem so excited, and I wondered if the guy knew she wasn't a complete girl.

After the show I put my clothes on right over the paint. Blu had to run her equipment home first, so Peaches and I waited for her with the crowd of people who were in no rush to leave. She also got into an argument with her boyfriend, the drummer, and it took about 20 minutes for her to get on the road. It was fine, we all sat around and sung songs as I rubbed the paint off the back of my hands and arms.

An hour later we were still singing and blu had not returned. The other two members of her band offered to stay with us until she returned. By now it was midnight and though we called her house no less than a thousand times, she didn't answer. So we waited until 1... And then we left.

There were 7 of us in the truck, along with equipment. 4 of us lay on the flatbed, with the guitars and part of the drum kit, strewn like rag dolls over them as we sped down the highway. So illegal.

The band members, Jason and John, their friend mike, peaches, layla, her friend and I made it to mike's studio on riverside in one piece. Mike said he had to wait for his partner to give him the keys and then he'd worry about getting us out of there. We scampered around the halls of recording booths and smoked while mike played one of his songs on the cd player for us to hear. It was pretty good, it made me relax. Or was that the weed?

They tried to teach me how to play the drums. I can't have my body do 4 different things at once. It was hopeless for me. "can I try?" layla sat at the kit... And literally all the lady disappeared. She played as if she had drummed the church choir. Legs wide, hunkered over the kit as if it was all she was put here to do. Have you ever seen Travis Barker play? Yeah.

Logic dictated that since they lived the closest, layla and her friend would go home first. We stayed behind, chilling out on the big couch and rolling paint off our legs and talking. Jason, ever the mellow Californian bass player had a deep epiphanous moment: "is it just me, or did it seem like layla had, like, a package?"

Excuse me?

You have this fine hunka woman standing before you, and you can't tell that an undressed man is, well, a man? Ugh. Looking back though, that recent picture of a naked Serena Williams could confuse a person. She do look kinda mannish. And strangely, even peaches had questions. "really, that was a dude?" to this day, I don't know if she really didn't know or was playing along.

Turns out blu was so drunk she went upstairs, left her trunk open, fell out, and didn't bother to call for 3 days to let us, or at least me, know what happened. Her music stuff got stolen, by the way. I made it home fine, and I decided never to do it again if I didn't have a reliable vehicle.

The end.
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