Freak show

“We’re freaks, that’s all ... 

We’re the tattooed lady, 

and we’re never going to have a minute’s peace, 

the rest of our lives, 

until everybody else is tattooed, too.”

-- J.D. Salinger, Franny and Zooey 

Self portrait 7-11-13

 “I was always an unusual girl.”

-- Lana Del Rey

“Eschew the ordinary, disdain the commonplace. 

If you have a single-minded need for something, 

let it be the unusual, the esoteric, the bizarre, the unexpected.”

-- Chuck Jones

“All forms of madness, bizarre habits, 

awkwardness in society, general clumsiness, 

are justified in the person who creates good art.”

-- Roman Payne, Rooftop Soliloquy

I may not be the bearded lady.

I may not have a conjoined twin dangling from my chest.

I don't have the face of a wolf, or an elephant, or a bat.

I am not missing, nor do I have any extra, body parts.

I am neither unusually large nor unusually small.

I don't swallow swords or eat fire.

I am not "half this" and "half that."

My "deformity," my "biological rarity," is insomnia. Chronic sleeplessness is the thing that makes me feel like a total freak of nature. Insomnia is the thing that has shunted me off the bright, happy midway of life and into the murky shadows of the side-show tent.

It may sound like I am exaggerating, but I don't think so.

Lying awake all night long, night after night, alone, physically and emotionally and psychologically craving sleep that evades and eludes, nerves jumping, followed by days where I am useless, strung out and rattled from the exertion of exhaustion, when all I want is to semi-regularly experience a basic, biological, natural, normal human function ...

Yeah. 

I should sell tickets. 

Step right up! Step right up! 

Maybe a few strangers gawking at me through the tent flap would lessen the loneliness. 

At least there'd be witnesses to my fabled sleepless reality -- people who could confirm, awestruck with jaws on the ground, "She was awake, the whole night!" because they'd seen it with their own eyes. 

At least I'd be earning a living from the very thing that, right now, seems like a midway pick-pocket intent on stealing my life right out of my hands.

For now, I guess the best I can do about it is to make art out of it, hence today's face.

I'd keep company with the other side-show freaks, but they're sleeping.

Jesus, my face is up here

"Let me give you a little inside information about God. 

God likes to watch. He's a prankster."

-- The Devil's Advocate

Cement garden statues 5-11-13

 “We are all tempted, Mma. We are all tempted when it comes to cake."

 "That is true," said Mma Potokwane sadly. 

"There are many temptations in this life, but cake is probably one of the biggest of them.”

-- Alexander McCall Smith, In The Company of Cheerful Ladies

  

“We never find out the strength of the evil impulse inside us until we try to fight it.” 

-- C.S. Lewis, Mere Christianity

                                                                                                                   

For the past several weeks I've been driving past this nursery/garden supply place in my town as it's been re-opening for Spring. They sell flowers, plants, seeds, gardening tools, birdbaths, fountains, wheelbarrows, hoses, fertilizer, trees, mulch, dirt, you name it.

They also sell statues.

The statues are all situated under a pergola near the road, and after driving past a few times a week, I got curious wondering whether there might be any good faces in the crowd.

Um. There were.

It tickled me so much, this juxtaposition of the religious with the carnal, the paradox of Jesus and that weird little monk-robed dude hanging out beside David and the Venus de Milo. I love how Jesus is sort of fondling that flaming heart-thing on his chest, trying not to look but clearly stealing a sideways glance at David's junk, with Venus' tits tempting him right there at eye level. The little monk-robed dude is just totally fixated on David's candy.

So many photo captions and dialogue bubbles, so little time:

"How's it hanging?"
"Wait, what? You mean this isn't the Christian Mingle mixer?" 
"Yo, Dave. The Miracle Gro is in aisle five."
"Jesus, my face is up here."
"No one said anything to me about the full Monty!"
"When I think about you, I touch myself."
"Did you find that thing in the annuals or perennials?"
"Don't touch my junk!"
"Look but don't touch look but don't touch look but don't touch look but don't touch."
"I guess that other thing wasn't the last temptation of me after all."
"Get thee behind me, Satan. You're blocking my view."
"Nice mums."
"I have a heart on."
"He isn't risen."

OK, I'll stop now.

 

I promise, I did not in any way touch, arrange, pose or artificially assemble these statues for my twisted photographic amusement. I shot them undisturbed in their natural habitat.

Burn, baby

“...that yearning inside you that seeks for fulfillment -- does it still burn?...”

-- John Geddes, A Familiar Rain

Thrift store doll with cutout hands, lighter, cigarette and eyes 5-7-13

“The mind is not a vessel to be filled, but a fire to be kindled.”

                                                                                                             -- Plutarch

“This disease of curiosity.”

                                                                                                  -- Augustine of Hippo