and i'm standing there in a gabardine suit, wondering wtf? and wtf with the briefcase, LOL!! when i don't even carry a purse? but most particularly, why am i holding what appears to be a cocktail? i put my nose down to the rim of the glass and take a sniff, but all i can tell is that it isn't gin. i put the glass down on a coaster and approach the woman who appears to be hosting this cocktail party.

i don't know what to say to her. i have no clue who she is...she is simultaneously thin & voluptuous (how does she do that?) her hair is pulled back all slick-like, and she's wearing a peg-dress that looks like this:



+ red lipstick and nail polish standing out against very white skin
+ cigarette holder
+ attitude
= ok, you win...

she clearly recognizes me from across the room. "oh ellen!! how fabulous to see you here! but don't you know? this is a COSTUME party, dear...where is your costume?"

and suddenly it's night time, and i'm standing, barefoot, outside in the mud in a drop-waist tulle dress. i can hear the cicadas & a crazy-croaking symphony of frogs in the marsh. i am worried about my costume...i MUST make one. yes, costume is at the top of the "to-do" list. and i begin collecting saw palmetto leaves, which have fallen to the ground...i tear them into pointed fronds and weave them into the tulle...i plaster them into place with mud and moss. it feels good.

i walk in my dress out to the night, i place my hands into the stream flowing, always flowing, and sink them into the mud all the way up to my wrists. and i can feel the wriggling presence of all the little things...i feel fish and salt and the phosphorescent mysteries of deep ocean. i feel the sun on my back at midnight. i feel rocks under my galloping hooves and my mother's teeth in the scruff of my neck.

i pull my hands from the river mud, and let them rinse in the running stream-water. and so watered, my hair begins to grow like vines, and i realize that everything on me and in me and around me is earth.