CC, ML, SC
The black dog whimpers in your ear, therefore the encyclopedia is shedding wordform. That is why legumes have laid waste to an entire generation
Caterpillars feast on the carcass of grandfather whale, therefore the orangutan turns inside out. That is why we must never talk about scissors out loud.
A cathartic swarm does a spiral dance to the sun, therefore the golden calf has become a peppermint stick. That is why we celebrate Christmas.
The minutia in the dessert wafts inside your lungs to sleep, therefore the bubbles form spinal fluid celebrations. That is why we can’t untie you.
Corpulent houseflies are writing in the book of damned witches, therefore the birthday-rabbit is nowhere to be found. That is why fireflies can’t have babies.
Collective Poem (each player wrote two or three lines, then folded and passed)
Sad trombone-playing dog
Where is your cosmic door handle?
Where is your recyclable sponge?
The hedge is crossed by night
And sleep wanderers howl to the event horizon
But the pebbles once tossed are tossed eternally
The hawks cry, neon yellow, tingles in the soles of my feet.
A concerto of slamming doors, a slow crescendo.
I see you standing in a white dress, holding a ham.
A record player on the surface of the sun
Plays a jupiter waltz
For the saturn sky wedding
The minotaur rages in lust and asphyxiation
While mother willow tree sways in sympathy
And apathy settles down to sleep
– With SM, SC, & CC.
The night began with an idiosyncratic solstice ritual of our own, during part of which two participants both pulled the sun tarot card. Earlier in the week ML had also found a large sun face which we placed nearby, acting as a sort of watcher-guardian. Afterwards, we vaguely remembered having played the Mask Game for Peculiar Mormyrid two years ago, and thought it might be worthwhile to try it again with this new Sun Face. We looked up the questions and added a few more, but did not re-read the old answers and did not remember them. Afterwards, we noticed some interesting cross pollination between the two games. The belly of a whale seems to be an especially common spawning ground for mask-spirits, and most are oviparous. The scent of turpentine in the air may also be a telltale sign that a mask is near…
Describe this object’s life cycle.
ML: It is like a coral, constantly producing microscopic beams of warmth.
SC: The mask is a maoist revolutionary who on the eve of his 31st birthday grew celestial tentacles and catapulted into space.
CC: It begins as a singularity, and expands into a pod filled with world eggs. It grows for a thousand years until it bursts, which sends the world egg shooting out from it in all directions including time.
There is a land where everyone is born with this mask on their face. What does that world look like?
ML: It is a veil of smoke through which the occasional glimmer of another face is seen and then lost.
SC: Fur and wheat grow from the earth. The Sunface are many, and the Surface are confused. The Sunnose is ripe.
CC: It is a completely dark planet but nobody can tell it is dark because they are wearing a mask of light.
To what emotion does it correspond?
ML: Patient, pained.
SC: Transformative joy & hunger without object.
CC: Optimistic yet dubious
What scent goes with it?
ML: Cardamom & Campfire smoke
Can it die and, if so, how?
ML: Yes, loneliness can bring its core temperature down until it dissolves as brittle ash.
CC: Yes, but only if it is born inside the belly of a whale that has become beached.
Does the mask have a lover? Who?
SC: A dark haired lady with two sentient black boots. The boots are expelling sweat, and the boots are shivering.
ML: It has in eye but not consumed.
CC: Yes, it has many. Its newest and most energetic lover is the celestial lion with the mask of the moon.
What is the mask thinking right now?
ML: My lips are dry.
SC: I will kill you. Stop prying.
CC: I am a black star inside.
What is its name?
I dream of a women who has broken the law. She runs away, and reaches a beach. They send a giant fiery ball to find her and execute her. She is laying down on the beach, and a blue heron sees her and falls in love with her. The fiery ball locates her, but he sees the heron first and becomes confused. This gives her time to escape into the ocean where the fiery ball cannot reach her. -CC
With Steven Cline, Casi Cline, Steve Morrison, Megan Leach – illustrated by Megan Leach