1983/11/26 daydream painting (acrylic over Xerox of ink sketch, 14x17") by Chris Wayan
This isn't a dream but an intense daydream about shyness toward a girl I met at a Thanksgiving party and really liked. She gave me her number, but I just couldn't call her. I tried to figure out why and couldn't.
So I went into a drawing-trance, and this is what came out. I Xeroxed and blew up the line drawing and painted acrylic on top.
Only when it was done did I get that I was trying to pass for normal with her. And that was a wingless prison I didn't want.
So, I'm trying to get the nerve up to ask this butterfly out on a date, even though she's probably too young for me and due for another metamorphosis or two.
I'm feeling fairly human, only showing a modest touch of equine jitters--when I get nervous I tend to turn into a horse. Or at least get horse-faced.
But the minute I admit I like her, a brutal old ghost behind me clamps its bear-clawed hand on my head!
And the worst part is, the monster shows evidence of feathers. It may be wings, my own shamanic wings--powers I've disowned, frustrated to the point they'll sabotage all the goals and girls on earth.
Till I own up to my wings. And fly.
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