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DANCING CLOWN

Dancing Clown

I had a bad dream last night, at least I think it was bad…
I am not sure about anything anymore. For some reason
that I don’t quite understand I found myself tied to my chair,
next to my dresser. A clown came up to me and said he
was going to help me move my furniture. At first he was
friendly, but then he started to play with my drawers. I had
no control. He was doing wild and wicked things to my
drawers and I had no no no control. He gave me a fixed
stare, and his eyes got really dark and all seeing…He
started pulling out my drawers and banging them back
shut, fast and frantic while he was dancing in circles around
my dresser. He was laughing and crying hysterically, and he laughed so hard that he peed his pants and urine went all
over the floor. Which he then trampled in as he was dancing
around my dresser in circles. He pulled out all sorts of toys
and weapons, and put them in my drawers. Knives, marbles, spiders, rubber snakes, bottle openers, silly putty, whoopee cushions, whistles, pictures of naked female clowns, scizzors, rubber balls and jacks, multi-colored scarves, roller skates,
and the list goes on and on…it never ended, he had more
tricks up his sleeve then the oldest hooker in creation. I
screamed at him to stop violating my My my drawers. But
he just laughed wickedly, and his eyes started changing
colors and rolled back in his head. His make-up was
smudged and dripping, and it looked eerie, groovy and psychodelic with the eyes that were going every color in
the rainbow, everytime I looked at him they were a different
color and he would go back and forth between laughing
hysterically and crying hysterically while doing his mad
dance around my dresser. It was very Artsy. His hair was
falling out, and bugs were crawling on his head. He kept
scratching his head and thumbing his nose at me. There
was a mirror on top of my dresser, (the mirror had
reflections of all the people I had known in my life, good
and bad), he kept looking in it and telling me I had better
hurry because he was getting old. Then he pulled flowers
out of his side pocket and asked me if I wanted them. He
said that if I didn’t take them there would be nothing to put
on my broken and ugly old dresser. He told me how beautiful beautiful beautiful they would look on top of my dresser.
There was a white vase on top of my dresser that had been
broken from him banging my dresser drawers open and shut
really hard and fast. He took out some superglue and smiled wickedly. He glued my white vase back together and put the flowers in the vase. The flowers were so pretty, and they did
make the dresser look nicer. They were alive. They started
calling me mommy. It did make me happy in a strange sort
of way. He told me he was going to help me. He pulled out his butcher knife collection, it was under his very black trench
coat. He came over and cut the ropes that tied me to the
chair. Then he told me to lie down on the mat. He said he
was going to make love to me, but his penis was a big sharp butcher knife. Of course, I didn’t like this, of course. I told him
I didn’t like this, but he just smiled smiled smiled lovingly and
told me not to worry my pretty little head everything was
going to be alright. Then he screamed because I wasn’t
pretty and my head wasn’t little at all. It was huge and twisted,
and my breast were larger than any normal clown would ever
want them to be. He was mad, and wanted to know why I
couldn’t just be a normal floormat like all the other floormats
he had studied before in floormat scientology classes. Why?
He screamed. Why, did I have to be so difficult. He could
have any floormat, he didn’t need me. I told him that I loved
him for setting me free, and he stopped blubbering, but
then he dissapeared and I was very very very sad…I missed
him…I missed my tormentor and saviour…

JANE Á PARIS

Copyright ©2008 JANE Á PARIS

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A wild and out of control dream. Full of symbolism, inner and outer reflections, and the reality of my life. It speaks of my loves, my sexuality, my health problems, my art, my children, my beauty, my sense of self, my privacy, my sense of humor, my life, my relationships, and my fears…And what happens when someone else has control of these things.

Tags

dreams, enemies, fear, friends, games, love, madness, relections, sexuality, symbolism, violation

I have a deep love for expressionism – ‘Expressionistic artist sought to develop pictorial forms which would express their innermost feelings rather than represent the external world. Expressionist painting is intense, passionate and highly personal, based on the concept of the painter’s canvas as a vehicle for demonstrating emotions. Violent, unreal color and dramatic brushwork make the typical expressionistic painting quiver with vitality.’ This is what I try to achieve when I paint.

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Comments

  • clone42
    clone42over 6 years ago

    Fark…
    …now it’s getting scary…

  • JaneAParis
    JaneAParisover 6 years ago

    Oh, you don’t know the half of it. I just sat on his damned whoopee cushion again. Thanks for reading and have a wonderfully creative day my friend. Smiles from Jane.

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