Crayon, 9x13". Drawn 1981, revised after a dream, 1996/9/23, by Chris Wayan
I dream I'm a female krelkin, a slender, clever nonhuman being with a white-pelted body, delicate hands, a long black mane and a mares' tail...
Then I dream I'm in therapy, working on my dream, IN my dream!
Rather than tell it, I draw it as a black and white cartoon. It's beautiful. I mean, I'm beautiful.
I've written sickness on my body, and what is written will come to pass. Soon I'll fall ill from this rage.
My therapist Shelley looks at the page a while, then gets a small vial of hand cream. She smears a bit on the art. It dissolves the red lipstick; she wipes most of it off the figure, leaving just a fiery background. Traces left on my body, but now I look... salvageable!
Yet I feel almost angry about that--Shelley did it without asking me if I wanted to risk it. Could have totally destroyed the krelkin... that is, me. I'm allergic to so many solvents, you see.
But then, I was nearly certain to fall sick, if she'd done nothing. And what Shelley did paid off. Restored me!
My ingratitude shocks me. But I nearly wish she'd left me alone, defaced with red rage...
NOTES
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