Coachella 2006

at coachella in a dome with lucent dossier preparing for their last performance of the day. mirrors with peacock feathers adorn the octagon. i shimmy away from stilts, move aside torn tuxedo jackets… added computer metals clang and feathers fall. tinsel fabrics, top hats, sewing machines, ruffles, bass and mayhem outside as stages clash insane. crowds scream, djs go wild in the adjacent dome, a jungle oasis, trees and misting apparatuses. steph plays with a sickly and tattered doll and makes me laugh… my senses are on overload.

i crawl into a corner and watch my lucent ones… each of my projects is so very different from the other… keval catches my eye questioningly… “i’m tired…” i whisper to her, gathering feathers up to hide behind… in silent response she opens up her traveling apothecary and puts herbs under my tongue. i snuggle against dream as she introduces me to people as the ‘one that shoots all our shows’…
roger awakens… he is of a maddening court jester with gold paint and a frilly lapel. dancers play with ropes. headdresses are fastened, stilts are lined up, victorian underwear is adorned… it’s time to rock…