REQUIEM FOR THE THOUSAND

And I was relentless to leave this once flamboyant town; I hated to see it go down and being eclipsed by the monstrous growth of Chelsea. Some of my comrades thought of it as if I was selling out. I thought, "Not so, this place has already been used by too many people and now we needed a new warren. I have several visions, but this one was rather unexpected for me. That’s why I said it was tough for me to let go. I stood very bravely and saw what would be considered as just ruins. It was a broken heart or an open wound.

"My heart has joined the Thousand, for my friend stopped running today."

I was quoting Watership Down again.

I joined SoHo in the first years of the last decade. I had a misconception of the place, yet I stayed merely by caprice. I could sense the decadence of the bohemian charm that every single artist expects to be surrounded by, at least once in their lives. And though it seemed like a sort of risqué activity to live entirely on art, I always had a plan B. Eventually I did find this noble warren; a place where I felt blessed, and wanted. There’s always been a cosmic energy that I can’t quite explain; you can’t see it, smell or touch it, but you can feel it. Thus I became invaded by it and I created uncontrollably. I started doing works for other people because you can’t expect to have an exhibition as soon as you walk of school; so don’t bet on it. That’s why the needy, the unknown street artists became my most powerful allies, until I began to hang out with other crowds. Then it was all about being a larger family.

And in a way, after Janie and M, and the rest of these bizarre creations of suburbia crossed my path I sit and listen patiently to their concerns. Now my feelings have become more obscure, for last night’s dream showed that I have assumed the role of a leader; a responsible one. My momentary lapse of madness several weeks ago had no excuse. Wherever I would go I would conquer.

The needy will still hop with me and follow me dearly, that I am aware of.

The night went by quite smoothly; just me and Edith and a couple of close friends. There was Chloe and Sam; always had some interesting topic to muster to get me off the routine.

"You know, we haven’t seen each other since that damn Halloween night, remember?"

“Oh yeah, my bad,” I said as I clutched another glass of that red, red wine. “Truly ravishing, wasn’t it?”

Chloe seemed rather stunning that night. She helped me out lots of times to get out of anonymity, long before Feivel was around. I never forget my oldest friends. She was always very radiant and impeccable, but last month on October she wasn’t her usual self. So it occurred to her wear a tight corset. This time of the year is the perfect excuse to do the things you can’t do in real life.

I frankly didn’t know what to say; to his partner Sam it seemed rather astonishing. I had fashioned an outfit that consisted of a rabbit’s head and I had my torso naked most of the time. But I still wasn’t enough to grab attention. However Chloe found it charming and after a couple of nice drinks she found some comfort and spent a great deal of the night with me. I felt kind of compassionate because she had a lot of things bottled up, but it seemed they landed on the wrong place and the wrong time. Of course, being a gentleman, I pretended I had no recollection of these events.

"Oh, absolutely, just like old times. Oh, dear Adrian...when did I lose you to that wretched Feivel?"

And I responded, "you haven´t lost me; the greater I become, the more you´ll be able to appreciate of me."

"Words of wisdom, man, words of wisdom," said Sam rather timidly.

TAROT MAN

I had a dream last night which I´m not sure how to explain however I´ll tell it like it is because if not then I´d be tearing it apart. So here goes; I was offered to do a Tarot reading for a girl who used to be the maid at my house. She was sort of concerned because of her current husband or boyfriend, so I went and got my cards but it seemed that I had to take them out of the closet. In the end I had such a huge pile that wasn´t really necessary to use. I knew she was already in trouble so because I´m a very busy person I managed to memorize the reading so that I wouldn´t waste time.

This last part doesn´t make sense because usually you have nothing planned yet the reader knows exactly what to say. Anyway, a Tarot card fell and I forgot to put it in the pile; it was the Knight of Pentacles I believe. It´s supposed to signify protection, hard work, responsible, safety.

I sat down with the maid and attempted to do what she asked me to, yet I was persuaded by a woman, not quite sure if it was my mother or my girlfriend to go elsewhere like on a date so the maid was left behind and forgotten.

And now that I´m trying to balance my life unknown persons keep haunting me in my dreams. I already did some things with Janie; now there´s another needy girl. What now?

The mole in the hole...Edith read tons of bizarre books; she devoured them as soon as they were in her posession, which was fine by me. But on this ocassion she drew me to watch some very insightful movies like El Topo with the excuse that it would feed my brain. I wasn't really fond of that activity, but you can't help it if you live in such a cosmopolitan environment.

Ever since I was young I got hooked on Watership Down thinking animals had more to show that meets the eye, besides I couldn't sleep thinking the Black Rabbit of Inle would come out and get me. And I was Fiver, the little psychic rabbit. It's funny how some things stick you for so long but you can't quite find a name until the time is right.

To be gifted doesn't mean you're greater than anybody else; however you become wiser and your senses sharpen. My buddy here Scraps he can smell the rain for miles away, and I could detect danger.

You see now that I pasted these images in my head I understood well that the whole monster dream was referring to the fact that I attracted many sorts of characters; the greedy and the needy. And Janie was a voice that I needed to hear when I thought I was becoming too selfish. Thus, a transformation would begin. I took the time analyze a ´horroscope´ this morning and it brought me up the Card of The Day which stood for The Magician. It made sense because I already managed to symbolically pull a rabbit out of the hat. The question was what´s next?

Whenever I stopped by at Balthazar I felt like a fish in water since everyone around wore so much black, but that's a rather uncomfortable for others. And here we were plotting how to conquer the universe once again after drowning in some fine Château Bernadotte, I couldn´t escape the trace of Merlot. I was in the company of Feivel, who was charming as usual, always getting to the point.

"I have a feeling this is not our usual conversation, my dear Maus," I said as I gently swung my glass.

"You´re intuition is on fire today, sweet thing. I got a proposition for you, and this one´s really good."

"Damn, you sound like a goddamn gangster, my good man," I talked back laughing.

"Listen, I already got a place up in Chelsea with your name on it, because that´s where you´re heading."

It seems that my work suddenly became so luscious I was solicited "upstairs". Soho lost its artistic strength a long time ago I felt like I was some kind of endangered species.

"So what was all that shit about last night?" I kept asking somewhat puzzled.

"Exactly. That was to be like a beautiful farewell. I hate to say that it was kinda planned, but we gotta find a way to revamp your image." He stretched his arms wide open, "think ´bout this; bad boy from Soho turned genius. I can see diversity, I´m talking major invasion in areas we never dealt before."

What he meant to say was that we were about to produce massive art. Nowadays it´s very difficult that just one person handles a multidisciplinary exhibition like sculptures, extra large canvases. I needed to assemble a larger and more reliable than the one I had already. And Feivel of course already reeled in the big fish to invest.

One time after having being exposed to some of Jeff Koons exhibitions it occurred to me that the mirror effect could be applied to almost anything. About two years ago I did a solo exhibition called Black Cherry, in honor of one of my dearest paintings, which later became controversial for its subliminal sexual nature, it´s art; you can get away with it. There were several pieces I did in oil and pastel named Us which featured a full body mirror as a theme and background. It was dripping blood and had several couples in it. Some where kind of known, some where anonymous.

As I contemplated my agent and I in the mirror in the bar surrounded by a faux parisian scene I couldn´t help remembering those paintings; I was caught between them and a scene from The Shining where Jack talks to Lloyd:

Drink up, Mr. Torrance. 

I'm the kind of man who likes to know who's buyin' their drinks, Lloyd. 

It's not a matter that concerns you, Mr. Torrance. At least not at this point. 

Anything you say, Lloyd. Anything you say.

I was just waiting for the walls to bleed; let the bleeding begin!

A-VOID GETTING CAUGHT

"A void, I went into a void and there I stayed until God when knows when. I´m out cold, knocked out, so don't bother me..."

COME AGAIN?


"The Void..."


"Oh, wasn´t it that bar down Mercer Street," I think it was Edith, yes it was.


"Yes, that one," I answered imprisoned in my crimson sheets. "Good afternoon, I'm dreaming out loud..."


WHAT ABOUT IT?


"I did some very nasty things that night," I continued sort of mumbling and drowsy. "I think I kissed somebody and it wasn´t a girl..." I laughed cynically.


ADRIAN, I THINK THAT PLACE DOESN´T EXIST ANYMORE...


"I know that; it was just a dream. The Void is always just a dream away..."


DO YOU EVEN KNOW WHAT TIME IT IS; I THINK YOU OVERSLEPT BECAUSE I ALREADY WENT TO HAVE SOME PAPERS REVISED...


"And?" I continued to ask like I was on automatic mode, but what´s not automatic about my actions? Automatic writing, automatic drawing, automatic sex...whoops.


IT´S ABOUT USING ART AS A MEANS OF EMPATHY. There´s not much, but the work of this German guy,Worringer.


"Hmm, and?" I was still on automatic mode.


THAT´S WHAT I´VE BEEN WORKING ON THESE LAST FEW DAYS! I thought you should know because I need to find a topic for the thesis.


"Oh, yeah, yeah, yeah, now it´s all coming back to me. I think we can...discuss that later. I was supposed to have a meeting at 1 o´clock down at Balthazar.


WELL, IT´S 11 ALREADY.


"Really, oh dear; I´m late, I´m late, I´m late, the Queen will have my head cut off!"


"Fooled ya; it´s actually past ten. Come on, get up. Somebody came to see you and wants to go with you..."


I felt something small, furry and frisky being slipped into my arms..."Oh, hey there Scraps! Getting sexier every day I suppose.."


YOU KNOW, YOU JUST REMINDED ME OF A QUOTE FROM A MOVIE I SAW SOME TIME AGO...


"Which one?" I said as I placed Scraps on my shoulder; he was kind of warm.


"El Topo, by Jodorowsky. It went something like this:

"The mole is an animal digging underground galleries seeking the sun and sometimes the path leads him to the surface when he sees the sun he goes blind."

"Is that some mysticism I wasn´t aware of?"


DON´T TELL ME YOU DON´T KNOW THIS...


"I promise I´ll devour it just because you mentioned it, sweet thing." I kissed Edith in a very luscious way. "Here," I said as I lifted my puny partner in crime. "Now one for him."


ADRIAN...I PUT HIM WITH YOU JUST ABOUT AN HOUR AGO...I think that´s who you were kissing in your dream...


"Are you getting me into bestiality, woman?" She covered her mouth for she was bursting in laughter.


IT´S JUST THAT YOU LOOKED SO ADORABLE TOGETHER, I WAS SURPRISED YOU DIDN´T SQUISH HIM. I EVEN TOOK A PICTURE...


She showed me the evidence on her cell phone. After chasing her for about um, two minutes. I persuaded her not to upload it or heads would roll.

PLAY!

"Scoundrel, thief, trespasser, go home white boy, you´re not welcome here."

Blending in is such a bitch sometimes. And exactly how does an apparently insignificant boy from a remote town like Elyria is capable of achieving such greatness? Easy, you become a legend. Since I was never capable of defending myself with my fists I had to do it any other way. Art is my weapon, so the louder it went the better. Besides, the town always needed a little color and an identity. I was arrested several times but well worth it because the goal was to make the ideas linger, and I was all about ideas. We got lots of parents pissed off when we cruised the streets on Halloween nights. I was very fond of red and didn´t have any problem splattering white walls with paint with critters evoking famous serial killers.

Nowadays we continued to bring in a little chaos when others least expected it. The place was rocking, even some guys I hadn´t seen in years came all the way down to the merry land of SoHo where I dare say anything can happen. We even brought some interesting vermin from The New York Magazine and others from Berlin, and the rest from Tokyo. It sounded like fun but again at some point this turned into a serious business. Ever since the late 1990s street art became more specialized and carefully crafted forming entire teams. And yes, it´s still illegal. Yet now we had full access to produce chaos on a space roughly about 72 by 24 inches.

The show was divided in five teams, but the highlight was of course my collaboration with the Japan team known as Shojo One. They had their history as well but when they saw how incredibly sophisticated their aesthetic was they began to hire them for serious publicity, and that´s the point where an artist becomes a designer. I made fun of them sometimes saying that they were caught between two worlds but when I started getting commissions then I took it back; the customer is alwayzzzz right. For Janie Wu and her comrades this was going back a little bit to the old days when there was nothing tying them to the ground, and they jumped up and down like rabbits.

The young and the old watched patiently as we splattered the canvas with vibrant tones of red, white and blue with acrylic applied by hand and spray painting. The concept included some very wicked bunnies holding space age guns against a very messy background, courtesy of moi. That´s what it looked like in the end; we could change it as many times as we wanted since we applied a layer of white from time to time. M applied some final touches on the critters that Janie traced. Cuteness is not my cup of tea, but this was a huge deal to them; it´s an industry that attacked little kids, filthy adults and otakus; a sort of media-devouring geek.

The piece was untitled, yet the point is to have nothing prepared; a completely empty space. Then to some very mind-blowing tunes live painting is done before your eyes so that you can see art come to life instead of waiting for it to come out of a studio. Although it seemed like a very hot idea in fact it was exhausting. I think I lost some practice from my days on the streets, so it was going back to my roots in a way. In reality we finished the work in about two hours. Edith was sitting on the floor with her eyes fixed upon me and became my unofficial cheerleader. I think I even had groupies and I wasn´t even a rock star.

It seemed that Feivel, who had a very mean look like a mafia guy reeled in some potential clients for more commissions; some of them were more eccentric than I was. At the end of the evening the paintings that were sold were used to benefit The Black Cherry Collective; an aspiring group of street artists. They helped me once so in return I helped them. Still, others looked at me like I was the rabbit in a pet store waiting to be bought. Let´s hope I don´t have a nasty dream about this.

Sometimes I feel 1:11 PM is such a long minute, it works for a lot of things besides lunch. On this particular occasion it served as contemplation. Janie and I, and her cohort created a labor of love, and, how could I describe this style? Japanese graphics enhance almost anything. Not that I´m underestimating what I did but still we managed to continue modern pop art, and it was dipped in more acid. Her abuse of naïve schoolgirls took me back to the times when pin-up girls were something else. They didn´t look degrading, they were powerful. M inked it carefully and on top of that I scribbled like any child would when they can get their hands on their first box of crayons.

But that was just a warm up. The real deal was to display our talent in a building located on Mercer Street, which was not so far away from my studio loft. We continued the spirit of such movements such as Wooster Collective; I had a thing for street art as well, that's why I had such a wide fan base. One time it occurred to me, while I was still at school to make stickers in the shape of a zoomorphic character leaping with the infinite symbol on its back. The style has changed over the years but the idea remains the same. At first nobody quite got the message. So later we decided to drench ourselves in fake blood or red paint but just the part of the shoulders. And on top of that I included the phrase on any available wall down in Spring Street: "Mauvais garçon du Mercer Street". While it became amusing to some, it was paganism to others. We scared the shit out of some people on Halloween.

As I mentioned in an interview a while ago if I ever painted things like that they would hang me and now you know. Even if this town might seem highly unconventional I found a way to make it more shocking.  The events of the last decade reshaped our city in such an interesting way as we realized if we had gone a little bit way too far and for a while art had a cause and everyone I turned all I ever wanted was some answers. So then the 11 was now a symbol of what we lost; an open wound. Even I lamented the fact that Miro´s artwork was destroyed in the process.


I always saw a great deal of him in me, then again some poorly illustrated people would say, “you´re no Picasso, but it´s sure pretty,” as if he were the gauge for modern art. Couldn´t there be anyone higher than him? Did we reach perfection and we weren´t aware of it, then why are we still there doing what we´re doing? Well, I could tell you; he dug a hole someone already started like Braque but and they made it bigger and louder. Thus, its immensity attracts others. We all want a piece of it; it´s something even greater than money or fame or other fancy things. And while he may not have invented Cubism alone it´s still an idea for anyone bold enough to embrace it. I guess I borrowed some of Janie´s words in the previous sentence. So tonight I do hope we make this a bigger, louder meaner rabbit hole.

Edith arrived just in time. she was all wrapped up like a present in a rather baby pink scarf I could only see her blue eyes peeking. I heavily encouraged her to come since this is the moment she can see me in my full splendor. She was somewhat shy about these sorts of events, that´s why I called her cynically “my non-artistic follower”, but most of my friends and colleagues knew she managed to blend in somehow.

YOU LOOK MORE RADIANT NOW…

“Do I?” I said. With so many activities going on I hardly noticed that; a hidden strength I suppose, mmm…Strength.

OF COURSE I´LL COME WITH YOU; IT´S SO INCREDIBLE THAT YOU GET TO WORK WITH PEOPLE FROM DIFFERENT CULTURES, I GUESS.

“And that´s the beauty of this town. The more I get involved with it the more they cherish my art. But quite honestly, Feivel insists that I should strongly consider taking our business to Chelsea, gotta move on.

PLAYGROUND (continued):

"We live in a mean world Adrian, so we have to prepare for it. Some choose to use guns, others like us choose art to make an idea become powerful. The idea is passed on from generation to generation, thus it becomes eternal. Who starts it to begin with, no one knows, the truth is it belongs to anyone who wants to embrace it, " said Ms. Wu.

"That's so deep, where did you learn that?" I asked softly.

"My father taught me that, you don't get that kind of education at school, but you can always apply it anywhere."

"So I see."

All these distant memories from my dreams came like a savage tide and collided in my head. I warped back to when I saw myself as a monster full of splendor; a creature that attracted all sorts of vermin. Now I knew that all these years I didn't mean to bring in the wrong kind of people but I was just trying to define myself. That's what Janie meant when she said she wasn't vermin; I could clearly see she was someone different. Then something inside of me snapped and I brought her to see another work I had done, Rabbit Monster. I explained the whole series of events that pushed me to do it; it looked very dramatic and childish at the same time.

"Be careful, you don't others to misinterpret this one," said Janie with a rather unusual expression. This reminded me of a famous quote from a movie:

"I kind of like this one, Bob. Leave it." 

That's what the Joker said when he saw Figure with Meat from Francis Bacon.

Like I was told by my crazy art teacher, you paint something you empower it, and I never liked to empower the people I despised.

"Back where I come from we empower things too, but they sell. And I can see that this has potential, it will catch on soon, don't you agree?" asked Janie to another friend of hers named simply M. And then he replied, "Kawaii!", a Japanese term that stands for pretty, but in their own terms it's meant to enhance cuteness. I am not cute; but I am pretty, I could live with that.

"Have you ever seen how a comic book or manga get done?" said Janie.

"I´m familiar, a little bit," I answered politely, but no, I had no clue.

She walked up to a neatly stretched canvas they had just prepared this morning. She treated it as a piece of drawing paper and began to have just plain fun with it.

"You see, most of the time it´s a collaborative work. Someone is in charge of drawing with pencil, and then another person puts some ink on it, while others make the story. So you see, at the end of the day, they take an idea and improve it. The spectator likes that idea and buys it, but they seldom stop to think who did it. Thus,  that´s what we do; we are one and we are strong. We call ourselves Shojo One."

Janie opened up my hand and put a rather pointy bamboo brush called sumi, "now please continue, usagi," she said as she smiled openly highlighting her thinly drawn eyes. By the way usagi means "rabbit". "But I must warn you, I´m a very messy person."

PLAYGROUND

Graffiti and street art have been like the naughty children of muralism, but one fine day they feel nostalgic and want to come home. Seeing the work of Janie made me think of that. A seductive young girl can stop traffic but her modern monsters devour the walls like a sweet Godzilla on acid, or something like that.

Janie's team arrived at my studio horrifically early and my studio progressively started to turn into a circus ring. Sometimes I have to do crazy shit like snap my fingers from time to time to avoid losing concentration.

The promising artist from Tokyo came from the district of Harajuku; a place that I do not recommend to go if you're tripping on any random drug. She was participant of an art movement dubbed Superflat, which I believe is a fair equivalent to Pop Art however they did it louder and bigger.

Ms. Wu didn't look short like the 'purebred' Japs, thus she said she came from a Chinese dad, a Japanese mother but she was born right here in New York by mere accident. Still, she returned to her roots and decided to join the troops of the likes of Murakami, the infamous Kaikai Kiki. She considered him the equivalent of Andy Warhol.

"Oh, but there's another girl who loves animals, she goes by the name Chinatsu Ban, but she does elephants! She has been here actually."

"Funny, I like rabbits," I answered. "But they're not pretty, they're kinda scary."

"We'll see about that, pretty boy..." said Janie. You see this event was to grab more attention because it was the first time I collaborated with these well trained individuals; for some reason America has fallen in love with the idea of collaborations, East meets West sort of gig, or as they labeled it "Soho vs Shojo". It included a series of live paintings, you know me against Janie. I knew it was gonna be a tough pill to swallow it's no wonder why I wanted to just snuff it like Alex de Large would say.

I saw her stare at a piece I did some time ago called Easy On The Eyeliner. She stood there like a kid nodding. She had a look that took me all the way back to the days old days of Gwen Stefani; she had a laced tanktop, wide pants and a rather hand made backpack resembling a small rabbit with large floppy ears. I´m forced to believe that´s where she kept her paints.

She turned and looked at me and smiled, "I like this one! It´s sexy." To be honest it was an enlarged painting of Scraps enhancing the use of eyeliner and it was smeared across the canvas made with acrylic and oil; my favorite combination. Slowly I was beginning to realize how mesmerized they grew staring at the apparent innocence of God´s must vulnerable creatures.

Janie was twenty two years old and I was about to cross the terrible thirties. It wasn´t the first time we had one of these collaborative experiences in our merry neighborhood. Last year we did have another one with a guy from Berlin and Pennywise, a street artist from Brooklyn. How was I crammed into this? I don´t know, but I was about to find out.

The act consists of a performance done by pairs; one begins painting an idea and it´s the next person´s job to improve it. Of course, you must never stray from what the work communicates; it´s not child´s play, it´s when two minds sync and literally get into the flesh of one another. I studied Janie Wu´s work for months but at some point felt intimidated by her power of execution. We weren´t going to beat each other to death, just learn so each could take back home their own experiences and influences.

The theme was supposed to circle around the utility of art and thus i suggested, "art as a weapon". So whatever happens after this event will remain for mankind to watch and admire. That´s why I concentrated my creative energies in these non-lucrative things; it was truly like being in a playground.

"You should name your exhibition Playground, it seems like one," whispered Janie. I was startled for a moment. "I´m sorry, this has been kind of a long day and I have to process a lot of stuff in my head, you were saying?"

"Don´t be scared, I´m not vermin. I understand you have your ways and I have mine," said Janie while she sat down on the hard maple wood floor.

For a moment there, I had a slight moment of dejá vu that took me all the way down to the dream I had when right after I came out of the hospital. Was I to help her then or was she going to help me? There was only one way to find out.

WANTED

I have acquired a new mantra for myself, "art is a deadly weapon, please handle it with care." It came out right after careful observation from Feivel Golberg and other potential buyers. I always tend to envision them, even the expression of awe and absolute fascination before a show. But at other times they can be very tricky; they don´t move a muscle, when they´re ready they just point and say, "how much?" I had to very keen instead of being naïve from now on, after all this is business not pleasure. Still, it thrills me to see people happy like kids on a playground or back home when I used to run out in the middle of a storm. This is organized chaos. This lonely rabbit felt helpless in a big city; it was like staring at a very peculiar breed in a pet store, it already had a fixed price.

The riskier this business becomes the more it ignites my passion for living. I thought I lost that feeling because apparently these recent years after college have become like being in Eden. I was automatically exempted to earn my place here in the heart of Soho. I love it; we also have another ´lair´ for art disaster in LA, but for some reason New York has grown on me; I can´t believe I was roaming the same neighborhood that Basquiat did.

I´VE BEEN SO CRAZY ABOUT YOU LATELY, ADRIAN, THESE LAST DAYS I´VE BEEN THINKING I FEEL I´M HOME WITH YOU...

A text message from Edith, and she ends with cutesy hearts, doesn´t every do that these days...

I called her back. I couldn´t help it.

"I got your message, you´ve successfully defined our relationship; it´s amazing how something so beautiful came out of a very trivial device." Edith chuckled and continued, "what´s that supposed to mean?"

"Analyze that, will you, or you can take it to the grave," I continued, spinning around the room just for fun, or maybe because I felt spoiled.

HOW´S LIFE TREATING YOU LATELY, YOU HAVEN´T TRIED TO JUMP AGAIN, HAVE YOU?

Now was my turn to laugh,"I wish, but I just left in a figure of speech. No..." I turned my head as I saw more people coming in, important people, "...but quite frankly if I were to do it ever again, I´d like to have you with me, cuz I don´t want to do it alone."

I...I´LL COME DOWN SOON.

"You don´t want me to come down and rescue you, because I could if you want me to."

JUST KEEP DOING WHAT YOU´RE DOING; AFTER ALL YOU´RE REQUESTED ELSEWHERE.

This is business, not pleasure, dammit.

INTO THE HOLE

Blurry, everything looked blurry now...idle time never tasted so sweet and even more with the weather that slowly became more hideous. It's no wonder why I wanted to jump; ever since I got hooked up in this business my life has been one big circus performance after another. Up to now I haven't weighed my talent, I never had the need; why should I doubt at this very same moment of my life , but like James said, "there's something about me but I still can't put freaking finger on it."

Ava, the Tarot Lady said I was the Star, not the literal star but what lies behind it.

"You are in a very good moment of your life dear; see this is the time where you begin to flourish and unravel your true self. Intuition and creativity are essential for your everyday work and now they will increase…”

This is the moment where I said, "I wanna get off this ride."

But as I recall a quote from Life Lessons with Nick Nolte:

"It's art. You give it up, you were never an artist in the first place."

And that's exactly where this wicked dilemma began. At the same moment, with impecable timing came the tune of Right Where It Belongs by Nine Inch Nails. I was always a die-hard fan; the only thing that fueled the darkest corners of my psyche.

What if everything around you

Isn't quite as it seems?

What if all the world you used to know

Is an elaborate dream?

And if you look at your reflection

Is it all you want it to be?

What if you could look right through the cracks

Would you find yourself

Find yourself afraid to see?

Mr. Sun, Mr. Golden Goddamn Sun, were where you when I needed you the most? This may be the last time I see you until the freaking snow kicks in. A soft tone cut the silence like a knife. Someone was at the door, I recognized that voice...

HEY, SWEET THING, WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN? DID YOU MISS ME?

Hey, Maus, how´s it going?

"You don´t sound so hot right now, that´s bad luck." Feivel looked as usual, this time some very wide D&G´s like he had a monstrous hangover, so did I.

"Aw, don´t come to me talking to me about curses..." We came upstairs to the big studio to check the pieces for my one man show. He looked at Ritual and he instantly fell in love with it.

THIS IS POWERFUL; THIS IS INDEED POWERFUL. I CAN´T POINT OUT WHAT IT IS ABOUT IT, BUT ITS SPEAKS FOR ITSELF. YOU DID IT AGAIN.

I just stared at him like an idiot as I clutched my mug of coffee. And this was only the beginning.

KID-NAPPED

For the fiftieth goddamn time; I don't do heavy drugs, I find a strange, soothing, mind-blowing sensation in drinking but still that doesn´t justify the homoerotic nature of my dream last night.

And um, where do I begin; I'm not ashamed to tell this, I'm just trying to figure out why in all the possible hells did this happen to me.

I noticed a long time ago a strange pattern about the supernatural and it became evident whenever I slept in really old houses I fell under the impression that I saw ghosts in my sleep. My folks took to this cabin up North to visit my aunt and uncle; I must have been around ten years old. Besides the uncomfortable feeling of freezing to death it was the first time being there, and I can still remember the intoxicating aroma of pine cones.

So in my dream I went downstairs to the kitchen to get a drink of water or something when I noticed a rather peculiar bunch of kids hanging around. They were all me, but at different ages. One of them was wearing a sort of Halloween costume, like a wizard. Apparently he was the leader and they threatened to kidnap me. Now that I think of it this scene reminded me very much of that cutesy sequence of Kidnap the Sandy Claws, but I was no big jolly fat man.

And just yesterday I saw my alter ego in the wizard costume. So the real me, because I looked very much like now sat in this raspy wicker chair and I was completely still. The other me slowly began to unbotton my shirt until I was half naked. No, I´m not laughing; I was beginning to enjoy this. He even took the liberty of touching my face, especially my ears and nose for a while. And afterwards he inevitably stuck his hand down my pants.

At that same moment I jumped out of bed at about six in the morning feeling slightly aroused...I had to do something about it so I leaned back and continued what the other me had started, and I finished it quite well.

This didn´t seem like those wet dreams one had in their high school years. So as soon as I got up I grabbed my laptop and attempted to analyze this shit as best as I could...Oh, it turns out that in a way I was embracing a part of me that apparently I feared for so long. That makes sense, it could have been a consequence of the last thing I did before leaving the house yesterday. God, I missed Edith, luckily she was gonna be back tomorrow.

SOHO MEETS SHOJO

So Feivel decided to hook me up with a young Japanese American artist named Janie Wu for a group exhibition. The gimmick was simple, “the bad boy from Soho meets the little girl who loves Shōjo.” The last one is a general term they use in Japan to label art dedicated to teenage girls. I haven´t seen her yet but she said she loved my work.

In the past it used to be very odd to find talented people from the Orient. I recall one time when I was in college that I went down to a local museum to check out what the Chinese and Japanese artists were up to in this era. And it turns out that they had lots of interesting tricks to show. There was an installation with many diaries containing the same word (don´t ask me which one it was, it was written in kanji) the objective was that the concept of repetition guaranteed eternity. I guess some of that rubbed off with me and the rabbit. Nowadays the Japanese invasion in modern art has become more evident; their execution scares me sometimes. Janie´s style was sweeter and more sophisticated for massive consumption, kind of like those Hello Kitty images from a long time ago but with a futuristic twist.

Coincidentally Janie did some pieces with rabbits however these were tremendously abstract and disgustingly cute. She managed to minimize her subjects to fancy, voluptuous shapes and enhanced them with pastel tones accented with fine gold leaf. And she was only 21 and her work was indeed trendy. In her hometown a team of street artists helped promote her inviting vignettes on a bigger scale. That´s the beauty of it; she wasn´t just limited to galleries and in a way it´s true, art should be seen everywhere but at some point you have to realize it´s going to become a piece of merchandise.

For this show I was already prepared, that´s why I couldn´t go with Edith, also it was overdue. It was supposed to take place two weeks ago. But apparently my name had more weight in America than Janie´s.

I opened a series of files Fievel sent me about two days ago. I thought of this gallery as a lair for my wicked art. As I kept looking through the slides I noticed these images of a guy who gladly offered to dress in a sort of vintage bunny outfit on my opening night. This situation was getting sort of eccentric, but I was used to it.

I was far too busy to even think about what happened last night. Another friend of mine came along, James. I care about his friendship because he takes me bar hopping in New York, and after these incredibly painful weeks where I almost heard the voice of God talking to me I really needed some distraction. Screw the rain; it never stopped me.

“Hey, Bunny Man? You shouldn´t be all alone tonight, if you know what I mean,” said James. He was shorter than me, ironically he looked like one of those old school Goths who still worshipped bands like Bauhaus, Joy Division and The Sisters of Mercy. We used to frequent this place called The Hideout and swim into an ocean of depression for about three hours until we realized it was time to go back to art school. I did meet some interesting women over there. But they had this crazy idea, like most naïve girls that they could pose for a nude painting and I went like, “you´re gonna have to earn your place in that canvas.” I wasn´t very recognized back then and I´m talking about seven years ago.

“I heard you tried to commit suicide, izz that true?” asked James so cynically.

“Sure, but then again I was too fucking drunk that night, who the Hell told you that?” I said as I threw on a black sweater.

“Bad news runs around quicker than jizz, man…Anyways, so good you´re not dead.”

James looked at me in a very odd way, “Are you sure you´re OK? Sure, you look like you could use a tan but there´s still something different and can´t put my freaking finger on it.”

“Well…” I said in a very fake tone, “you could say that I was born again…”

My short friend was on fire laughing, “Fuck that shit man, c´mon let´s get out of here…”

It was gonna take a miracle for someone like James to understand my supernatural experiences; this meant that I was about to develop a second life and I´d already thought of the best place to hide it; deep within the canvas, the doomed canvas that is.

I took one last look in the mirror; I was wearing a leather jacket and black beanie that had the words “mauvais garçon” embroidered on it, “vous passez un bon soir, mauvais garçon. Have a good night, bad boy…”

3:15 AM

For some goddamn reason I woke up in the middle of the night; no bad dreams or anything, although I have the slight suspicion that it may have been the heavy rain. This weather at some point turns me on; some light seemed to be flooding my bedroom and that kept disturbing my slumber. I got up and walked barefoot from one end of the room to the other like a caged lion. I kept thinking of situations that could have triggered my anxiety and lose sleep; the pressure of deadlines? As if I were a newbie, no; this time of the year when everyone already has plans? No…

I sat down waiting for the rain to stop but I could see that it was gonna take a while. Edith wasn´t around to comfort me; she flew to Michigan to visit her parents for Thanksgiving like she promised, so for a few days I´d to be the man of the house. Plus, it wasn´t the first time this happened; I was completely tolerant on that matter, so why the Hell was I becoming so uneasy?

Ever since my close encounter with Ava, the Tarot lady I grew more curious of these random esoteric subjects. Somewhere along the way I read that 3 AM was labeled as a bewitching hour, which was opposite to 3 PM; the hour in which supposedly Jesus Christ died. Was I being invaded by demons? No clue, all I could think of was work because inspiration should be brief but effective like a potent drug or an orgasm on the other hand.

What I did notice is that Scraps was an all-nighter; he kept jumping up and down like crazy. I took him out for a while and curiously we were both startled at the sound of thunder. Then it progressively went away but it had a rather soothing effect to induce sleep…Oh, what the Hell, I needed a glass of wine. I think I still had some Merlot from 2002, ruby red; one of my favorite colors. I guess that did it, now I was knocked out. There goes that bewitching hour.

Next I grabbed a large sketchbook and began scribbling what was called automatic drawing; sometimes it made sense sometimes it didn´t. I came up with what seemed to look like a funny twiggy man in the middle of the forest. There were three puddles of water in front of him. I looked up and then I noticed the three narrow and large windows in my room. No big deal. The shape seemed fascinating though; childish, naïve, careless but not messy. That´s the way I used to draw when I was like five and scribbled on the walls with a red crayon. I believe I poked my unconscious once again.

AVAILABLE FOR PETTING

I´ve never been fond of having pets; my mother had this strange belief that they would bring me allergies or something. No big deal, even when I had the chance they lived so little. One time I had this gorgeous Siamese cat with big blue eyes and smooth fur like the color of sand. She was a very tough one; even the dogs in the neighborhood were afraid of her. Nah, but she got kind of slutty as the years went by not to mention very spoiled. So one tragic day Mother threw her away with all her litter. She broke my heart after that and stopped talking to her for weeks.

Rabbits are different; they´re so much easier to handle, they´re incredibly quiet but at the same time incredibly sensitive. Have you ever heard these critters squeal? It´s fucking awful. They´re very notable at hiding; Scraps keeps looking out for new and interesting places. When I find him under the bed I know he won´t go there twice, he remembers that place is no longer safe. Other than that, he just lays his cute butt at my desk watching me work.

Now I took the time for some Q&A from my page as the morning went on and the rain finally decided to shut up.

How old are you Adrian, if you don´t mind me asking… says a fourteen year old from a random town in Illinois.

“Well, in reality I´m 29, do you realize you're half my age? Don´t give me naughty ideas.”

What are your biggest influences? asks Kevin.

“I´m a child at heart, my man; I was always hooked on Surrealism, Fauvism and Expressionism. Mostly, Henri Matisse and Miró´s style caught my attention powerfully. I loved their organized chaos.”

Where are you living at now? Asked a fellow artist nick-named dirtyrabbit

“That´ll be privileged information; not even my girlfriend knows. I have to drug her every time she comes down here.” In reality, I have my rabbit hole in upper Soho, New York City.

Are you showing something soon? I really wish you could come to Australia, I´m a big fan, asked Kelly.

“Sure, my art is omnipresent; but come visit me anytime.”

What are your favorite techniques, asked misterabbit.

“Acrylic please, over anything I can possible lay my hands on; oils and pastels I reserve them for more dramatic effects. There was one time I drained my pens at school drawings holes and spirals in my notebooks. I could go all night.”

Can you make big money from being an artist? Asked Xxgr3aton3xX

“Sure, because America needs it to survive; art saves lots of minds so that´s why it´s well paid,” I answered laughing big time.

Can you post any picture to show me what you look like, asked Marie.

“Aww, that´s nice. But you see that would kind of upset my girlfriend.” As I looked at my ancient mirror I continued, “I´m sort of tall, terribly pale; I like to wear my hair sort of long but tidy. I have big round hazel brown eyes sometimes they do all the talking for me. A gaze says more than a thousand words, according to me. I have this sort of fetish of looking at my hands, sometimes I draw on them just for fun. I can´t tell you about my other excellent body parts until you´re old enough.”

Scraps stretched out and slightly opened up his mouth. For a minute there he reminded me of my Siamese cat, but this guy was softer and cuddlier and after a while quite disturbing. I wonder if rabbits dream like we do.

CHAPTER 2: THE YEAR OF THE RABBIT

Dreams work in a very odd way; I slept amazingly well; my lady knocked me out, it was the first time I´d sex in weeks. On that part I tried to stay focused and less impulsive. Other than that, no crazy visions. I felt better in the next days; was working like crazy against the clock; tired, but satisfied.

I also made contact with the outside world. I received a call from Feivel.

HEY KID! WERE YOU DEAD OR SOMETHING? SO GLAD TO HEAR FROM YOU AGAIN, I SAW THE SAMPLES YOU SENT ME.

I sat on the floor with an actual white rabbit in my hands as I listened to him on a speaker phone. I called the critter Scraps; he was as equally as handsome as I was, but this one had a fine black patch around the brown eyes, like eyeliner.

“As you can see I´m obsessed now,” I answered with a really heavy voice.

A MOMENT OF MADNESS, I SUPPOSE.

“More like a whole month,” I replied.

GREAT, GREAT, LISTEN. THE SHOW´S IN THREE WEEKS; SO FAR IT LOOKS INCREDIBLE, DON´T LET ME DOWN...

“Since when have I let you down, man? It’s like you didn’t know me or something…”

AND JUST WHEN I THOUGHT I KNEW YOU WELL THEN YOU COME WITH SOMETHING COMPLETELY DIFFERENT AND YOU PUT A HUGE SMILE ON THIS OLD FACE, YOU HANDSOME DEVIL YOU…

He wants me, I know, really bad. I answered politely, “You can’t have me Maus; you can have the art, but I gave my soul to someone else a long time ago…”

STOP JERKING AROUND, I FREAKING OWN YOU!

I couldn’t stop laughing out loud cynically, “Sure, I know that, I’m just testing you.”

LOOK, STAY IN TOUCH, I SENT YOU SOME STUFF I REALLY WANT YOU TO LOOK AT…

I hated interacting with the internet because once you’re there your hands cling to the keyboard and your brain is being milked to very last drop. What you don’t know is that only a certain amount of your brain is being consumed every day. Nevertheless, I had to give signs of life; otherwise they would literally hang me on any random wall.

A friend of mine, Mark took care of my personal site. It’s hard to describe the images and the design. I was always such a huge fan of Joan Miro´s work; painting with the innocence of a child and at the same time deeply surreal and rebellious. I insisted that it was sort of interactive, instead of just watching. If I did put in words it would be like, “you clicked it, you bought it, you´ve been warned."

Of course, the expression above didn’t mean that you were buying something physical, it was more like engaging in the act of buying an idea, so that made people responsible for whatever they saw after that click. Like for example, they would choose a very nice thumbnail image thought to be harmless when in really wasn’t. We fooled them. It reminded of the unfortunate moments where you rented a VHS and you expected to see the movie in the cover and as soon as you went home you found out it was smut...Not that what I painted was necessarily obscene.

Because I had some random, cutesy comments from my paintings over the past few years I decided to turn things around to open up some minds. I like to be unpredictable, that helps you stay in the spotlight.

(A MAD TEA PARTY, continued):

“Oh, they´ve started already; dreams affect you, you experience the pain, do you? It´s simple, we are human, and you are deeply emotional. The more you suffer, the more evident it becomes for others to follow you,” said Ava.

I got up and shouted, “why am I supposed to suffer? This is fucked up!”

I remember seeing a card with a man waking from an apparent nightmare; The Nine of Swords, she mentioned.

“It´s not always about pain, dear, we have to listen to them as they come. These thoughts are designed especially for you, the spiritual world would never give you more than you can handle. But, be prudent with who you talk to from now on. People in the business won´t notice that you´ve become more empathetic and sensitive, so emotional intelligence is a must.”

She unveiled the Five of Wands, she said between the lines that it´s the competition; you know, people trying to get a piece of the pie, everybody wants a bit of fame every now and then, a protagonist if you will.

The Two of Wands was one of the last ones to come out. “You still are that young boy with a huge determination to change the world and those people around you. So follow the incredible wisdom provided by the Star,” and then she pointed at the first card I saw. “With it, not only will you become a better person, but you will turn into,” and then she pulled out the last one, “the Emperor, an undisputed leader…”

The reading didn´t end yet. “What about love?”

“Are you doubtful? Well, let´s see,” her delicate voice was starting to sound more like a lullaby. She drew another card on top of The Star. “There seems a really interesting chemistry going on between you,” and then I saw the Two of Cups, “the understanding is quite well, but,”

I didn´t like the sound of that, “but I see that she´s expecting something else from you, and I know that´s everybody´s nightmare,” then I saw a woman with a lion, the Strength, she called it. She had a halo shaped like the symbol of infinity. “ It is a huge deal of strength against her weak will and helplessness; the Eight of Swords. But don´t take control over the situation one hundred percent, let her grow little by little so that both of you can have strong roots, otherwise,”

“Otherwise, what?” I said.

“The relationship fails, my boy, that´s all. You are strong, very strong, but she can also perceive your frailty and that´s what sickens her. Anything like that will cause someone to tumble down easily, The Tower.”

Ava took a deep sigh, “and now, a final word of advice, the last card; the Wheel of Fortune; expect the unexpected, other than that you´re free to go. The future belongs to those who are willing to listen and do something with it. It´s not written in stone, it can always turn around and change.”

As far as I was concerned, I understood very little. For a fact my visions were here to stay, so I would just need to control them. I don´t know how the Hell I was supposed to do that, but somehow they would soften in the next days.

SO HOW DID EVERYTHING GO, ADRIAN?

“I´d say it´s only beginning, Edith.”

BUT YOU DON´T SOUND TOO OPTIMISTIC.

“Uh, no, I´m not, I wanted these strange visions to go away, but the only solution is to face them as they are.”

IT´S NOT THAT BAD;YOU´LL SEE THAT THINGS WILL CHANGE FOR THE BEST; FOR BOTH OF US.

Edith wrapped her arms around me like a child, “this a blessing, that puts you one step ahead of everyone else in this business, so, consider yourself a winner; very few people have this.”

“Would you consider this cheating, when everyone else works incredibly hard to get here?” I asked trembling.

I´D LOVE YOU EVEN IF YOU WEREN´T THAT FAMOUS BECAUSE…BECAUSE I CAN SEE THAT I FEEL SAFE WITH YOU. I FEEL MORE LIKE I´M HOME.

Like I said a long time ago, "I´m not God, I don´t pretend to be, I´m just lucky."

A MAD TEA PARTY

So then after giving it a lot of thought Edith convinced me to visit a psychic. I hesitated; I confess that shit still gives me a hard time but when I guess that you've ran out of all possible explanations I guess I can take it. The truth is it was far more professional and discreet than I realized. We made an appointment in the afternoon around six o' clock. The rain was fair, but as soon as it cleared out it was chilling my bones. I’m a very well known person around these parts so I opted to wear some shades.

The place was beyond fancy, I must admit, but rather kitsch. I bottled up my comments until the time was right. The psychic’s name was supposed to be Ava or something like that. She was a rather old woman, beyond her sixties. Her gaze was incredibly stunning; she looked at me as though I was her son and I was being punished for doing something nasty.

SO, TELL ME ADRIAN, WHEN WERE YOU BORN?

It seemed a natural question for any Tarot card reader so I answered politely, “January 29^th 1981.”

GOOD FOR YOU! YOU STILL LOOK SO YOUNG AND FRESH. WILL YOU JOIN ME WITH SOME RED TEA?

I couldn’t say no, she insisted because it would relax me. After that, we both sat on a round table covered with a handsomely decorated velvet cloth. Afterwards she ceremoniously unveiled a pack of cards from a purple handkerchief; she said the color was important.

YOU ARE ALLOWED TO ASK THREE QUESTIONS, MY DEAR. ONE IS FOR YOUR CAREER; THE OTHER IS FOR LOVE AND THE LAST ONE IS YOURSELF.

I had no doubt about love or my career since both seemed to be well balanced, but as my mom used to say, “Assuming if a very big mistake in this life.”

Ava asked me to lay my right hand upon the deck and cut in two. Later I shuffled the cards, and then she spread them for me for form a cross with ten cards. The rest, she saved them for later.

The first card she discovered was The Star.

“You are Aquarius, right? It is your ruling sign,” she said pointing at the illustration. The Star is a beautiful, blond naked woman underneath a starry sky, no comments.

“Well,” she continued with a rather energetic tone, “you are in a very good moment of your life dear; see this is the time where you begin to flourish and unravel your true self. Intuition and creativity are essential for your everyday work and now they will increase…”

“That’s rather interesting, but,” she interrupted me, “BUT, NOTHING! You want to know why it really happened, right? your mind is bursting with questions.”

She unveiled the next card, “a sad, unfortunate event caused this, some of them provoked by you,” she said as she showed the Four of Cups; some fellow under a tree.

APATHY; MY, MY MY…THESE FEELINGS ARE NEGATIVE AND OBVIOUSLY BRING DESTRUCTION. BUT THEY ALSO MAKE WAY TO A NEW BEGINNING...


"And..." I said softly.


"The apathy comes from overindulgence, the King of Pentacles reversed. It seems that a part of you if very, very greedy. Concentrating on material things is not enough, my boy. Your work is designed to bring another kind of compensation, are you afraid to fall or obsessed with something?"


That was true. This profession was always seen as a taboo in my hometown; nobody in their right mind would choose to become an artist, so they would either choose any random job they could possibly find and survive. I was also trying to survive and make it out of Elyria. A part of me wants to go back and the other pulls away.


The next card spoke for itself, "Seven Of Pentacles. The past comes back to haunt you again and again. The anxiety of amassing a huge fortune. You don´t have any trouble doing that. But if that tendency continues, then you will get nothing. Imagine you were selling something so beautiful but you never realized its actual worth?"


"I´m confused. You got me speechless," I answered softly.


"Luckily, that´s not the case. Your art is more precious than you think. Thanks to these apparently painful events you will be able to see things clearer. It is best that you remain this way; its suits you and makes you even more attractive."


Next, came the Hierophant; a sort of pope, I think it was. "People will come to you freely, no questions asked; a beacon of hope for others, turning something tragic into something beautiful and infinite. Then..."


Ava stopped and looked puzzled as she unveiled the next Tarot Card, "someone´s already knocking at your door, is it? Someone in need, someone with less resources than you, someone who feels like a nobody, a forgotten one...oh." The Five Of Pentacles it was.


"Can you tell who´s been bothering me now?" I asked.


I DON´T SEE THINGS, I FEEL THEM, ADRIAN! Besides, people will come to you freely for advice, you will be a magnet, soon, soon...


"Soon, how soon is that?" I laughed.


(to be continued...)

"It was a nightmare, I never had something like that in ages, and I woke up crying for no reason. You don't think I'm losing my mind now, do you?" I asked, putting my hands across my face.


WHY WOULD I THINK THAT? I REALLY WISH YOU COULD CALM DOWN FOR ONCE...Aww, now, don´t do that…


Edith embraced me and continued, "You’re a mess, and I know that. But I’m not letting you go right now."


"Why would I go and dream something so shitty, i felt like it wasn't even me, it's like I was another person or something," I said as I walked across the center of my bedroom crossing my arms, sobbing.


WELL THEN IF IT REALLY WASN'T YOU, THE BETTER. IT'S JUST SOME STUPID DREAM. YOU SHOULDN'T GIVE THOSE THINGS ANY MORE POWER THAN THEY ALREADY HAVE.


"But...DAMN IT!" I paused trying to calm down. "I know it's sort of pointless to act this way, Edith but I swear it felt so real, so clear, not like to the kind of dreams that make no sense."


HAVE YOU BEEN TALKING TO ANYONE ELSE BUT ME, FRIENDS, FAMILY, ANYBODY? THINK...


Of course, this conversation was beginning to turn into some kind of interrogatory; I brought this upon myself. "Lisa, that witch bitch...but I haven't seen her since I left my hometown, why in all the possible hells would she come back from the dead and haunt me?"


DEAD?


"Don't get me wrong," I turned around and stared at Edith as she twitched her fingers in fright. "Some people leave a very strong impression, but I seriously doubt that hers is permanent."


WHAT ABOUT ME? DID I LEAVE A STRONG IMPRESSION IN YOU?


It was almost as if I could read her mind and feel her insecurity flooding the room. "It's not like that all, you know it."


ALRIGHT, MAYBE, MAYBE SOMEONE SHOULD COME DOWN HERE AND GIVE US A SECOND OPINION. NOT THAT I'M NOT QUALIFIED ON THE MATTER BUT MAYBE THERE'S SOME KIND OR ENERGY FLOWING WITHIN YOU.


I stopped for a moment and heavily underlined this sentence, "I'm sorry, energies?"


YES, WELL...


"What if I had a near death experience? Tell me; was I almost there or what?"


I CAN'T ANSWER THIS, I'M NO PSYCHIC, I'M A PSYCHOLOGIST, NOT THE SAME THING. But I think I know someone, let me check my contacts...


"Edith..." I whispered, "I'm sorry for being such a bastard, there are some things even I, I can't explain..."


COME HERE.


She embraced me again, so tightly and slowly found some refuge within my slender mouth. I felt sort of absolved from some kind of sin. My eyes clouded and the blood started rushing back into my system, no need for clothes now.


She knocked me down, I didn´t know she had that much strength and acted playfully and giggled.


I ALWAYS WANTED TO DO THAT...


"You are strange," I said as I managed to land on my elbows, "but then again I made you this way."

NIGHTMARES HAVE MANY NAMES

I´m not familiar with the exact mechanics or chemistry that causes someone to dream, not even the ones that make nightmares possible but I can sense they have a pattern of some sort.

I´ve had recurring dreams in which I am downstairs in the kitchen, and all the family is gathered at the table. It seems that all things are planned there, an invisible force binds them and suddenly the table becomes a huge melting pot where ideas come alive and now it´s just a place for heated discussions. For example, for some reason, I keep feeding my “little brothers and sisters”. Remember those awful days as you grew up when your mother forced you to eat things you didn´t like such as broccoli sprouts? That seemed very obscure; frankly I never had a problem with vegetables. However they claimed I was “doing it wrong”, and I would go like, “I´m sorry but what am I doing wrong?” And here is where we focus on out little green friend because apparently if you don´t cut it right it won´t work.

The most ridiculous part of all was that it started this huge ass of a quarrel between me and my family members, specially my mom. I was put in a bad spotlight after this, lacked all credibility and trust. Just like critics.

CAUSE AND SIDE EFFECTS

I'm a big devil, or I must be one. Edith said she couldn't sleep well last night after what she saw. She told me that as a kind of side effect she remembered when she spent her days on the school playground. She recalled that she'd seen a friend of her being teased and laughed at.


"I...I think I felt compassion for those in need," she said softly. "I really wanted to help him, so we became best friends. We shared lots of things, but then for some reason we lost contact."

"And why haven't you tried to call him back?" I asked.

"I really don't know how to find him anymore...It’s just a flashback,” said Edith speaking nervously.

"What about those social network thingies like Face...?”

ADRIAN! WHO ARE WE TALKING ABOUT HERE, YOU OR ME?

"I was just being curious."

IT'S JUST A DREAM, YOU KNOW, MAYBE SOMETHING JOGGED MY DEEPEST MEMORIES, THAT'S ALL.

"Like what you saw yesterday?"

IT'S HARD TO SAY.IT'S NOT MAGICAL...OH...

She snapped and she looked back at me smiling deeply.

I BET YOU WANT TO KNOW IF WATCHING YOU WORK CAUSED ME THIS, RIGHT?

"Absolutely, woman!"

I'LL BE HONEST, I WAS MOVED...

"And," I said expecting something else, but I kept repeating teasing her swinging her arm playfully.

STOP IT! YES! YES! IT WAS SO INTENSE AND POWERFUL...

"Eughhh," I said as I made a nasty look, "you said intenzze..."

I KNOW WHAT YOU WANT, BUT YOU'RE GONNA HAVE TO WORK HARD ON IT...

Shit...All I wanted was for her to say "thank you", what the Hell was she thinking about? Oh...now I see.

Even my sweet raven knew when my eyes lit up it meant I was seeking some feedback. We could talk for hours without even opening our mouths. One powerful gaze and the rest was history; one frown meant she grew puzzled at what she saw and I knew that it'd be harder for her to figure out what I was trying to say. It's like laying an unofficial seal of approval upon my work, even though anyone was welcome to give out its own interpretation, such as Feivel, my agent, I call him the Maus. He is my OFFICIAL seal of approval. We used to joke about the origin of his name at parties and he said,

"There aren't too many Feivels out there, like how many do you know?"

And I said, "Damn, I could only remember that puny Jewish mouse from that movie..."

"Yeah and there you go! But no, the weird thing is I was born way before that came out."

So, we called the Maus; no offense intended, the guy had a real good eye for artists; it was like in his freaking blood or something. He was this sort of tall, fancy-haired eccentric dude, repellent to any single sort of fashion out there, except for wearing black. For some people it's a fetish, even for me. But considering my last name this would be completely redundant. My actual fetish though is leather pants.

The first time Feivel got hold of me he said, “You’re not an artist!” So then, I had to give him credit, I was only 20 years old. “You may look like an artist, act like an artist, and even talk like one, but your so-called art certainly betrays you, boy!” And then he sat me down and placed his bony hands on my weak shoulders while he continued,

“it has to come from the inside, from the gut! If it doesn’t cause an effect on the viewer then it’s worthless! But I like your style. You want to work me, work your ass off!”

I suppose that sort of counted as good advice. Everyone expects too much of me all the time and when it doesn’t happen, Miss Misery (or depression) doesn’t even have the decency to knock in my door and she rapes me. Ouch...I got a papercut, sorry.

RITUAL

My daddy used to say,” if you don't have blistered, splintered; bruised and battered hands then you haven't lived long enough.” No doubt about that, but that's not good advice for a suicidal person. I wasn´t trying to kill myself that night; I was just testing, I guess.

Edith and I, (and God probably) were the only ones who knew about my desire to jump from the rooftop, which in the end proved just one thing; it wasn't my time yet.

All this series of terrible events fueled my inspiration. Daytime worked well as a catalyst for my work, and I must admit it was truly rare, since I preferred nighttime. Ever since I had to ceremoniously take my meds because I’m prone to respiratory diseases my biological clock has dramatically been reversed. It seems I made contact with the unconscious mind; when the world seems to be busy I relax.

It was winter anyway, around the first weeks of November. Rain kept falling; it was a habit of mine to go out and get soaked until I lost consciousness when I was little, now if I do it in these mean streets I would get caught. Only then was I able to open my senses and listen, feel and taste the grandeur of nature. I was hoping that maybe for a while I could gradually ignore the annoying sounds around me. Those were my rituals back then. But today, it´s all about the right music,

"I’m a rabbit in your headlights, scared of the spotlight. You don’t come to visit. I´m stuck in this bed."

I plunged my hands into a tray of Indian Red paint, the same way a child would play with mud and then I literally slapped the canvas; I felt I was pouring my heart and soul into this one, that at some point it triggered some repressed memories, and I…I fell down on my knees.

ADRIAN, ARE YOU TIRED? TELL ME.

“I was supposed to feel relieved after I did this, girl,” I said to Edith. “What do you think of it?”

OH ADRIAN, I…I´VE NEVER SEEN ANYTHING LIKE THIS, IT´S SO EMOTIONAL AND PASSIONATE…I´M SPEECHLESS. HOW DO YOU CALL THIS ONE?

"Ritual", I whispered. A white and black rabbit fighting each other, like opposite forces; the enlightened and the Occult and a Tree of Life traced with blood on a children´s playground, like they were playing hopscotch. How did I come up with that?

SECLUSION

They say music can soothe the savage beasts but in my case it's the entire contrary: it lights the darkest corners of my mind, will have to apply some special tricks to make this rabbit come out of his hole.

"Hi ho! Oh, we'll smoke the blighter out. He'll put the beast to rout. Some kindling, a stick or two, all this bit of rubbish ought to do."

"We'll smoke the monster out!"

So said the Dodo to the White Rabbit.

In a sort of magical way Edith´s chased all my bad dreams away. Yesterday I recall having seen in dreams a Siamese female cat getting rid of all my inner vermin, like mice. It felt good, really good.

I was able to concentrate on my recent paintings, I was really focused on Rabbit Monster; I wanted to use techniques I´ve never dealt with before. I hated oil paintings, but they always add a dramatic effect; using fur would be appropriate, but I couldn’t be allowed to use the real thing, they would hang me, not to mention it would be a longer process. Fiberglass sounds interesting, riskier perhaps, leaves blistered fingers though, not to mention that it clings to any single part of your body you can imagine. Hmm…I’ll take my chances...

(continued from I´M NOT VERMIN!).

“So nice of you to include me in your universe.”

You are my universe Adrian, why do talk like I didn´t care about you?

“I´ve seen you, you only act protective now because you´re supposed to like any other person who has ever felt concerned about me. But then a few days ago I see you crying out alone, nostalgic.”

I WASN´T BEING NOSTALGIC, I FELT AFRAID BECAUSE I MIGHT LOSE YOU! YOU MIGHT NOT REMEMBER BUT YOU WENT THROUGH SOME HEAVY STUFF THAT NIGHT.

“Such as?”

I, I DON´T WANNA TALK ABOUT IT, IT´S SORT OF PAINFUL TO ME.

“And now I´m starting to feel pain after several days of being sedated…”

THAT TELLS YOU BAD IT WAS. LOOK, THIS INCIDENT IS SUPPOSED TO BRING US TOGETHER, NOW MORE THAN EVER, DO YOU KNOW WHAT IT MEANS?

“That I am an idiot for being careless lately?”

Edith frowned upon this last statement; she placed her hands on my face and kissed me gently, “you scare me, you know that? But I think I´m beginning to know you better.  I understand you´re fearless, but you´re not indestructible. You don´t know what it´s like to lose something until it happens.”

She was right. I must admit I´m not that familiarized with loss as well as she is.  I guess feeling weak does count, but eventually I´ll get stronger.

“I´ve been having very powerful visions Edith,” I said. “Can you help me explain them?”

Now I´m not saying that she had all the right answers, but I guess this would help her in her career formation. You see, she´s still in college, she´s on her last year now.

THE VISIONS? THEY COME FROM THE PSYCHE, YOU KNOW, THE UNCONSCIOUS MIND.

“I understand that part, but, tell me, why do I have them, like I was being haunted?”

Edith pulled back her hair and spoke with a slight pause. We sat down on the floor.

YOU´RE NOT MAD SWEETIE, you´re just going through changes. Old feelings, new feelings travel in your head all the time. However, if they´re not addressed in the proper way they become more evident, they become more intense until you take care of them. Now that you´re getting better your dreams should stabilize as well.

“Do you think I have some sort of power or gift like fortunetellers?,” I asked that just for fun.

WE ALL DO. BUT MAYBE SOME PEOPLE DON´T BECOME AWARE THAT THEY HAVE IT. THE MIND IS A VERY POWERFUL MUSCLE, YOU CAN MAKE REAL ANYTHING YOU WANT AND BELIEVE IN IT. Fortunetellers convince people that they will have a happy life, it´s not magic.

“Fuck…”, my eyes started watering. “This girl that I used to know she believed in all that crap that she thought I was engaged in black magic and occult. But I don´t want to; it´s painful.”

LOOK, DON´T FORCE YOURSELF TO DO THAT, IT MIGHT BE JUST A WAY THAT YOU NEED TO BELIEVE IN SOMETHING, YOU DO BELIEVE IN GOD, DO YOU?

“That´s the problem, I rarely pray like you do, but I´m no atheist or anything.  I am attracted to what I can´t explain though.”

EVEN IN ART THERE´S NO EXPLANATION SOMETIMES, EVERYBODY SEES WHAT THEY WANT TO SEE.

I´ll have to say this girl was wise beyond her age. She felt comfortable talking to me, like in a motherly attitude, yet she only talks about what she knows best, not about art, that´s why I said from the beginning she´s non-artistic.

SO WHAT DO YOU WANT TO DO RIGHT NOW?

“Get me out of here for a while! I´m tired of being locked up like an animal.”

I´LL SEE WHAT I CAN DO. LET ME OPEN UP THE WINDOWS FOR YOU.

“Edith,” I moaned. “I am hungry, and I mean very ,very hungry.”

NOW THAT SOUNDS MORE LIKE YOUR USUAL SELF. COME DOWNSTAIRS. I´LL FIX SOMETHING FOR YOU.