Tag Archives: freedom

don’t do that

this (above) is claudette. claudette resembles a seagull and sits atop a rock on something that looks not unlike the ocean. but it is important to remember that claudette is not a seagull. and the rock that she sits atop does not protrude out of the ocean. claudette is just a simple souvenir, bought from a busy shop in a tourist resort. and the blue that surrounds her is merely a blue fabric. now that you know claudette only resembles a living creature and her surroundings only resemble water, let me tell you something about her.

claudette understands that life is principally a series of moments in which anything could happen but something rarely does. as a result she worries about neither love nor religion. it’s not that she’s hostile towards love or opposed to a world view that includes a notion of a passive or active deity or deities. she just hasn’t put much thought into either. instead, claudette lives a simple life dedicated to art and polygamy.

it just so happened that one day, whilst leaving the studio of her eighteenth lover, claudette happened upon a curious abandoned house covered in vines, a house that she wished to visit. this posed a problem for claudette because, you see, she had just started using a new conditioner that has been known to drive plants and trees wild. cautiously, claudette began to approach the house but, just as her outstretched wing reached for the doorbell, one thin vine wrapped itself around her ankle.

‘excuse me’ claudette said politely (for claudette had always been told to be kind to others).

‘oh, you can talk?’ answered the vine

‘yes’ replied claudette, somewhat perplexed, ‘of course i can talk’.

‘i apologise’ said the vine, quickly withdrawing from her ankle ‘i mistook you for a tree.’

‘a tree?’ claudette asked, now even more perplexed.

‘yes, you smell just like one’

‘i see’ claudette said (she had no idea that the conditioner was pine-scented on account of her terrible sense of smell) ‘…well no damage has been done. goodbye’. she turned to the door once more.

‘oh please don’t go’ said the vine, sadly, ‘you may not be a tree but perhaps you could help me.’

‘of course, what’s wrong little vine?’

‘well this house is crumbling’ the vine said

indeed, the house was in disrepair. it had been abandoned by people 42 years ago. humans have a tendency to let useful things go to waste while they formulate bird conditioner.

claudette surveyed the building, ‘i can see that’ she observed.

‘soon the house will collapse and i will die’ the vine lamented.

‘oh no. i am sorry to hear that’ uttered claudette, sincerely.

‘this is why i need your help. perhaps you could become my new building, my new bedrock on which i can climb and thrive. of course, you must know that if you agree to do this, you can never again fly away for as long as i live. you see, i need soil to plant my roots in. so i cannot fly in the sky or walk the earth like you. but, claudette, you’re my one hope.’ upon ending his plea, the vine felt that it was hopeless. who would agree to such a thing?

claudette pondered the vine’s request for several moments. she longed always to fly. it was her greatest joy, her greatest source of satisfaction. yet she possessed an unfaltering kindness too, instilled in her by all the misery she had seen on land, sea and shore.

‘okay’ she finally replied, ‘i will do this for you, vine’.

‘you will?!’ the vine said excitedly ‘oh thank you bird!’

without a moments pause, the vine crept its way along the body of the figure that resembled a gull, wrapping itself along claudette’s legs, wings, neck and head.

in the last two and a half years claudette has not moved from that spot, where she still supports the little vine. and through the long days, long months and seasons, claudette nourishes herself by feeding on the people who wander past, mistaking her for a real seagull.

extract from “seducing the zeitgeist” by artemis cocteau (2002)

“i met joan sloane in a crowded amusement park back in ’63. her hair was inconsequential and her eyes said nothing about her soul. i approached her with a peevishness long used by my forefathers to attract women. as i got closer, i noticed her teeth immediately. her canines were alsatian. to my surprise, my attempt to mask my rude interruption as her rude interruption didn’t work as well as it had in the past. but she smiled hungrily nonetheless and handed me a business card, embossed and ensconced in her pocket. i left immediately, of course, and returned home. i hurriedly dialled the number and was greeted by the following recorded message:

it began when i left newport pagnell for the final time. life had become far too scenic by this point. i mean, every day contained another ‘scene’, another set piece of my own construction – a carefully planned argument, a well-timed withdrawal from emotional elaboration…it was exhausting and ultimately unsatisfying. so, when i should have gone home, i decided to keep walking. my cat had died a month ago so i had no one left to take care of. i walked through the city, then the surburbs, the countryside after that and arrived at an airport. when i got there i boarded a plane. on the other side i continued to walk, through the countryside, the suburbs and the city. i haven’t stopped yet and, while i can’t say i never will, i’m not looking for a reason to go home again.”