1: SLUMMERS

I'm at an art opening. The other artists act strange even for artists. Takes me half an hour to catch on: everyone expresses feelings with one eye toward his or her biographer! Art-biographies are the rage this year, so you better lead a scandalous life... It's comical watching them all over-act, just to create juicy chapters.

Then some gods show up, fashionably late. Slummers! They're fans of a famous actor who's off in a corner, and of my friend Tim Gaughan the jazz musician, who's playing tonight. Though people tell me the gods are also asking after some writer or painter named... uh-oh. Wayan.

The gods loom up. I'm cornered! The gods all drink tequila, with a worm in every glass. A Japanese goddess says "Can we hire you? Mortals can't time-travel without our help, but we'll teach you to time-walk, if you assist us on a big project." Hmm. Are the gods mistaken or lying? I've time-traveled on my own--it's not impossible, just difficult, disorienting and dangerous. But isn't everything?

The gods are the gods because they live naturally in that crosstime time, walking freely through time-doors to change the present, or even rewrite or past. Linear time's a slum to them.

I'm not wild about gods, but... easy time-travel? I say "Okay, it's a deal."

We walk together to the apartment door and through it into a timebubble, on an orientation trip. Humans usually flip out the first few times through time...

But I LOVE it! Rushing through the void, watching the flux as buildings and civilizations mutate and sway like some kelp forest, I'm astonished how natural it feels. I feel clearer-headed than I do in the world!

One of the gods says "We suspected dreamwork and creating your own worlds in art made you practice many of the skills we need to time-travel and change history." Ah.

2: NOW, BEHAVE!

The gods hired me to go find another writer-artist and guide him through a time-door, one set in the De Young Museum (a big tourist draw here in San Francisco). Groups of gods and mortals have been squabbling over this particular gate; so I put up notes in and outside the gate saying "This is a crowded museum, vital to the City's economy. Confine your quarrels to the time-bubble inside the gate; do NOT harass the visitors or damage the museum." I have no divine backing or authority, I just got tired of them all fighting. I can't believe I'm scolding gods like rowdy kids.

And despite my utter lack of enforcement power, it works.

Acting with authority makes you one?

3: TIME-SNAG

With several gods, I step through a time-door, but we're blocked by other gods from leaving. So I'm trapped in a time-bubble, like a stuck elevator, with nine angry gods. The sides are pretty even, but I'm mortal, so if it comes to a fight I'm the one who's sure to get hurt. I protest loudly "Keep the truce!" despite the risk of getting blasted for presumption.. Bluffing? Or starting to believe in myself?

Ironically, most of the gods threatening us are the same gods who are on my side, but future or past aspects of themselves: a classic time-snag! If they explained why they oppose their own earlier actions, I'd listen--if they're from a future and know things we don't, why not? But they block us with force and no justifications. It may come to a fight. I remind them all once again "Confine it to the time inside the gate! It's wrong to spill your quarrel into the museum." Hope that'll shame them into talking.

If gods have shame.

4: THEY HIRE A XENA

Now I'm a mortal woman living in a commune of the gods. I don't wonder why.

I'm lying sleepless in bed--outside, on a street, at night! What am I, a dog on the doorstep of the gods? But here I am. Though I feel fidgety, can't sleep. Assume a physical cause. Yet as soon as I stop to think about it, I'm not ill or feeling vulnerable out here--I'm angry! Mad at a couple of gods who went downtown to bring back a woman dressed like Xena. I'm not sure if she's an Amazon demigoddess good at martial arts, or just a hooker into costumes. Ooh, catty! Why am I so mad at her instead of the gods? Am I... jealous?

And underneath that is the tempting question: could I do her job? Am I sexy enough, fierce enough, brave enough?

The two gods I'm mad at drive up in a convertible, top down, capes billowing. They're defensive, know right away I'm mad. The Xena they sought isn't there. I'm relieved, but still mad they even tried. Then Sidekick God opens his cape, and the girl steps out--hidden from wind, and prying eyes. Buxom, muscular, tough, definitely not my type, but still very sexy in her red Barbaric Bikini. Still not sure if she's here for sex or fighting or... both?

Whoops! Now I'm male--simultaneously want her, resent her, and resent the two gods for hiring her. Jealousy jealousy. Changed sex, but kept the stupid attitude. Can't I be smarter about this?

So I offer her rare art treasures to come with me instead! But she says "It's tempting, but I'm a professional, and I have a prior commitment to them. I must must honor my word." Besides, she "prefers cash to art, it's more liquid."

Do I want her myself or just want to keep her away from the god who hired her, to punish him? Unsure. I don't think it WAS just that. My intuition warned "Putting the Amazon and the God together is dangerous." But why? Dangerous for which one? Who am I trying to protect here--the god I resent or the mortal I resent?

5: THE SCOT

Walking on the beach with a god, I meet a vague old Scotsman, tall and thin with a droopy moustache. He's a beach bum. The god snubs him. At first I think the old man's senile. But he says he knows the Amazon the gods hired, and offers his support to her. "I'll back her claims, even marry her if she likes. I have firepower--three warships!" We play along, ask him what they're called, his ships. He reels off the names. The God with me startles--he knows those ships! This really is a Scottish lord from Renaissance times who wandered through a door... and he CAN summon three great warships to him. Sailing ships, of course, with no military meaning now, but they'll be cultural treasures. They've underestimated the old mortal. Calling ships through time is not easy. No god, but godlike aspects...

6: HOLY TRASH

The old beach bum isn't the only thing the gods overlook. All the rooms of the gods' commune are filled with coats and odd clothes and gear. Even the showerstalls are full. Why are deities all compulsive pack rats?

Olympus needs cleaning.

The myths never told you Paradise is so cluttered you can't get anything done!

7: IN THE KITCHEN OF THE GODS

The gods' kitchen is my kitchen. One god buys vegs and leaves them to go bad. I hate to see them wasted so I often end up eating them when they're just past their prime. Today the god left a big loaf of sourdough French bread out to turn hard and dry. I toast slices on top of a map of a marsh in Anatolia, a big waterbird refuge. My friend Ellen the birdwatching poet visits; she invites me to come see the marsh. I don't know if I want to. Just nervously toast and eat more and more bread--even though it makes me feel ill. And to top it off I learn it's not even leftover bread--belongs to another god. I apologize to him, explain why I ate it all. He's not angry, just puzzled--"Aren't you allergic to wheat?" Wait a minute--I AM! What have I been DOING?

8: LITTLE RED RIDING HOOD?

Now I'm lying with a woman in one of the commune's public window-beds. We're looking out on the ravine below, where students walk by. The commune is a mixture of my parents' bedroom and City College's old loan office. My friend beside me points excitedly at a child who passes by on the path below. She's maybe twelve and looks like Little Red Riding Hood. I've seen her before. She has a nice aura, but is always silent. The woman with me says "I feel a weird attraction toward her..." She leaps off the bed and runs down and invites the kid to join our commune!

Red Riding Hood does. But she remains spookily quiet. I wonder if she was traumatized, abused. Or is Red silently protesting? Does she want to be elsewhere? No one's stopping her from leaving, but maybe she thinks we would. We don't have a good reputation after all among the villagers. Gods, artists, communists. Might as well be wolves.

After a few weeks, Red goes on through the woods to complete her mission. I sadly give her up as lost to us. A few weeks later, though, Red returns, though she's as silent as ever. I can't read her aura--unusual for me. I try to get her story from a god who's maddeningly vague but doesn't seem to realize it. "How long was she there? Did she come back of free choice? Was she outcast?" The god just can't see why I'd want to know. I snap at him, call him an idiot... when it's true, my feelings for Red confuse me: sexual attraction? Empathy? Envy? Idle nosiness?

AM I her big bad wolf, or her wannabe-rescuer, or... WHAT?

You are what you want. But what DO I want? Who am I? I've moved in with the gods, I can travel through time, I've changed sex repeatedly, maybe I've even changed species-loyalty...

And those are all just skills and tools.

It's time to quit collecting tools like a pack rat, and look at who I am. As if it isn't obvious.

And what I'm after. Red. Who is she?

I wake knowing Red's brought me a riddle about myself I can't answer...

NOTES TOWARD THAT ANSWER

• The De Young Museum echoes a major dream of mine: Alp Vark, where gods appeared on the De Young walls.
• Time-gates = ALP VARK was predictive! Parts came true one by one over the next week or so; the dream proved to me that precognition is real.
• Sign = went to a friend's artshow today, hung in a boat clubhouse. By the door was a sign saying STATE LAW REQUIRES ALL PERSONS TO SIGN IN.
• Be assertive and even gods may obey = my housemate Alder told friends at the opening how our group bought a house with no income to speak of.
• Bubble, fears = Today, in therapist's waiting room, I was too shy to talk to that cute girl in a leopard-print coat...
• The hostile, bossy gods in the time-bubble = if these were spirits from the future come to warn me, they'd be specific, knowing I'd listen. The fact they just want to use force suggests they're from the past: HABITS! Habitual fears making me hesitate, especially to flirt.
• Car, hooker = saw a streetwalker on a corner in the poorest part of Mission, waving to passing cars.
• Downtown area looked like the singles bars near Sol Y Luna. So I'm ambivalent about picking up girls in singles bars? Well, no surprise there.
• Art vs money = as an impoverished artist, I fear I won't be able to compete with normal guys with money. I see them as gods--not that likable or reliable, but intimidatingly powerful.
• Eat wheat though allergic = 1) I really am. I recently got sick from eating a single slice of birthday cake. 2) Girl in the leopard coat said "I like bagels."
• Ellen = a reminder to call her, invite her to jam on Sunday
• wheat-eating = harming myself in order to fit in, be social.
• ACTION = heed inner warnings! I often ignore them, thinking "I gotta grab what social opportunities I can on my well days" But ignoring my inner sense is what sickens me & limits my social life!
• Anatolia = 1) A friend asked me about Greek citystates' wars with Persia. 2) "Anna tole ya"? Was the girl in the leopard coat named Anna? Did she tell me and I forgot?
• Birds, refuge = old slang for women; place where I could meet single women?
• Parents' bed, public bed = echoes a psychic dream that warned my family was about to pull me back into incestuous emotional tangles... Watch out!
• City College office = waiting? I came early to my hypnotherapy appointment today, hoping to talk with Leopard Coat Girl... and waited.
• Dog/wolf, 12-year-old = after therapy I wrote notes in the waiting room. A father and daughter walked in with a huge puppy on a leash. Dad took the dog away, leaving her there alone for a session. I felt strange, as if he was abandoning her! Unclear quite why I felt upset but it was a strong projection.
• Eager woman who invites silent girl in = Silky, my anima. I'm not sure what her feelings are for this girl either--parental, friendship, sexual, protective, some intuition she can't name?
• Red Riding Hood's puzzling silence and mysterious errand = ?????
• Ambivalent, fear I'm the Big Bad Wolf = old fears from my harshly feminist upbringing. When I was talking with two women in the waiting room, I worried that just wanting a girlfriend makes me somehow a predator. I'm harassing these women--by talking to them! Jeez.
• Only...when I wrote Big Bad Wolf, I slipped. I wrote Big Bad Woolf. Virginia? Oh, god, is my mind a Woolf? She was brilliant, but self-destructive, and did she ever shut up or change an opinion in her life?

Something like... silence.

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