Monday, May 21, 2007

I am beautiful, no matter what they say

I am beautiful no matter what they say
Words can't bring me down
I am beautiful in every single way
Yes, words can't bring me down
So don't you bring me down today


SLNN's article covering tonight's showing of Dolltopia at The King Has Fallen gallery.

I had seen the show, I'd known what to expect, and while the images upstairs didn't shock me, I've seen a lot, frankly--and I knew there would be reaction, now and again, from some of the images the artist chose to show.

You are beautiful no matter what they say
Words won't bring you down
You are beautiful in every single way
Yes, words won't bring you down
Don't you bring me down today...


I stood on the main floor of the gallery, playing the Official Greeting Doll, the new key the technocrat made me turning gently in my back. Another Muse, he of the feather-and-spike wings, chose to leap on my head, and we battled with words and laughter for the rest of the evening.

No matter what we do
(no matter what we do)
No matter what they say
(no matter what they say)
We're the song inside the tune
Full of beautiful mistakes


In spite of the controversy, in spite of the vague rumors on the grid, in spite of the pain of possible dissolution...it was a good night. It was a good night. I was so overwhelmed by how many people showed up to show support, by how many people showed up in their doll forms, or got keys for the evening from upstairs, and wore them. Open defiance? Maybe, on the part of a few. I prefer to see it as solidarity.

We are beautiful no matter what they say
Yes, words won't bring us down
We are beautiful no matter what they say
Yes, words can't bring us down
Don't you bring me down today


I wore a French maid outfit and my pigtails, the same pigtails from the shots upstairs. I wore my new black Mary Janes that my artist had told me where to get. I wore pride and I wore openness of heart, both.

I apologized to the doctor's daughter, because I'd hurt her, earlier, and we discussed her other father, frozen in ice. He's searching for a loophole, apparently. Of course he is. Wouldn't be him if he wasn't trying to think his way out of the situation, two steps ahead of everyone, even his captors.

Before she left, she hugged me, and I realized anew what a lovely balm forgiveness is. It was...part and parcel, pixel and paint...a good night.

Now, if only the statue manages to reclaim my kidnapped head from the head-perching Muse...because if he doesn't? He's forfeit to the Muse.

Eep.

2 comments:

Qlippothic Projects said...

It was I who apologized first. Even a small needle in the right spot can cause pain everywhere.

emillyorr said...

Ah, but I bear responsibility as well. Regardless of what I meant, that you thought I was gloating over such a loss...I should have apologized, and I do. One should never gloat over any incident the participants still mourn.