Tina Turner the First
I'm wondering about how different types of music/musicians began,
then suddenly I'm outside sitting crosslegged on a sidewalk
in a very bad part of town.
It's as if I've been thrown into an obscure music video.
Before me is a large black woman in a tight, low cut, gold lame dress.
She has a froggy face, massive, massive breasts, and goes by the name 'Tina Turner the First'.
She has a beautiful voice and is singing her heart and soul out.
It's a sad blues song that is sung so sweetly by this freakish woman that I want to cry.
I am full of respect for this woman, who is close to 50-55 years old,
and has made it despite her lack of generic beauty.
I try my hardest to remember the song and take it with me when I wake, but I cannot.
Stigmata
I'm in a round white room that has many windows, so it's quite brilliant.
There's a group of people who have met here to organize a play.
The play was written by an attractive older transsexual.
(who turns out to be Patsy from Ab. Fab.)
She has written about her life as a pre and post-op transsexual.
She HATED being a man with all of her being (the play is titled 'stigmata'),
and wrote the part of herself for someone in the same situation.
As it turns out, the actor to play Patsy is a straight transvestite
who has neither the intention nor the desire to be a woman.
The T.V. is wearing the same silky shiny dress as Patsy.
I find the T.V. attractive.
S/he is lying belly down on the carpet.
I walk across her back and stretch out over her, which is surprisingly comfortable.
An egotistical young actor dude is there.
I find him irritating and shallow.
Cab Calloway is there too,
wearing a white shirt, beige pants held up by black suspenders, and glasses.
He looks somewhat tired.
The current part of the play we are discussing is
whether or not it's appropriate for him to play Satan,
as in the play the character is supposed to represent the evils of slavery.
Someone is trying to explain the similarities of this problem
and the other problem of a transvestite playing a transsexual,
pointing out the hypocrisy in both, which makes sense,
but doesn't solve the problems.
Book
A beautiful, sharp featured woman with intense, lime coloured eyes and longish dyed black hair
is talking with me about book publishing.
She likes my writing and says she'll help me organize my book.
She says "You have to do it right, but you can't do everything yourself.
You can't just photocopy typed pages."
She flips through my writing and smiles.
Destruction
A woman is wrecking her and her husband's house.
The house is a physical metaphor of their marriage.
She flashes back: he's somewhat of a dork.
Tall, gawky, thick glasses. But she had fallen for him despite this.
She has planned a special evening for the two of them,
but as she stands there he chooses to leave with a friend.
The two men climb onto bicycles and ride away.
It's a bad choice.
She is irked.
Back to the destruction.
She cuts down a tree she knows he loves.
It hits a window and knocks down the brick fireplace.
She begins cutting off pieces of the house and carrying them inside.
The house gets smaller and smaller on the outside,
denser and more full of house pieces on the inside.
The house and the marriage deteriorate rapidly.