Comfortable Shoes SAMPLE

An evening’s amusement for yourself and friends, consisting of one thousand and one locutions by a young virtuous maiden whose penchant for potboilers and mastery of chicaneries shall teach us all a lesson in the never-ending wiles of women and the astonishing virtue of the gregarious!!!!!!

OR:

COMFORTABLE SHOES

by Ida Cuttler ida.cutt@gmail.com 415-686-7389

121422

*NOTE 1: There are two “actors” in this piece. They are performers who are merely on stage as themselves. In the case of this script it is Ida Cuttler and Katie Klocke (a violinist), but it can change to the names of the actors in any production. Anyway, they are referred to in the script by their initials, “IC” and “KK”. Audience members also occasionally are prompted to speak, they are referred to in the script as “AM.” *NOTE 2: Within the script, there is a lot of room for ad libbing and responding to the audience.

It's a ship, being navigated in unsteady waters, and at any moment the actors might do something that surprises the audience and themselves. *THE SET: The stage and the audience should be as close as possible. The audience should all be sitting on pillows on white sheets on the floor. The back of the space is covered with white sheets. To one side is the “Violin Station” consisting of pedals, amps, a music stand, and a whistle attached to a microphone. To another side is a shelf. On the shelf are books. Many books of different sizes with a few Russian nesting dolls, 1001 beads, and 1001 peas and 1001 pennies. Maybe a jigsaw puzzle.

At center stage, there is a stool and a microphone.

On the stool is a bowl and small pieces of paper and pens with a sign that says: “WHAT STORIES DO YOU WANT IDA TO TELL TONIGHT?” encouraging audience members to go up and write suggestions of stories on the papers and put them in the bowl.

On stage right or left is a 6 ft black pole that extends from floor to ceiling. Sheets are rigged to this pole, but still, it sticks out in all of its foreboding phallic glory.

A recording of Rimsky Korsokov’s “Scheherazade” is playing over the sound system, only it sounds sort of off- that’s because the track is in reverse.

1

121422

ACT I: SCHERAZADE/ISABEL IC enters the stage via the audience. She is wearing a large pink pajama-like jumpsuit. While she speaks, she passes out pillows or sheets to audience members. The tone is conversational—she is speaking directly to them, greeting them, welcoming them into this first non-story, story.

IC: Hello. The words I am saying to you now were written in a bed, typed on my knees with my back up against the wall’s corner.

KK, the violinist, enters and begins to tune her violin.

I’ve heard people say that it’s bad to do work in your bed. Has anyone else heard this? They say doing work in your bed will make you associate a place of rest with the negative emotion of stress, and stress leads to health problems, and too many health problems lead to death. SO what they are really trying to get at here is that doing work in your bed will kill you.

The words “THE STORY OF THE BED” are projected on a sheet. Going forward in the script, all projected titles shall be marked with a “*”. This mostly occurs in the script between scenes (as in, projected titles correspond with the titles of scenes) but sometimes a title will appear in the middle of a story. There will also be things that are projected that are NOT titles, like lines the actors say or pictures, They will be notated as “PROJECTION: _________.” They are written in purple ink. Because purple is cool.

-THE STORY OF THE BED*KK plays the violin.

IC exits, briefly, behind one of the sheets/curtains, then returns with a large outdoor dumpster.

She takes a sheet and pillow from an AM in the front row and begins to make a bed on top of the dumpster.

IC: I don’t know who the “they” are; men, if I had to guess, who are getting paid way too much money to be featured on other men’s pseudo-science podcasts, played in the earbuds of a liberal arts college student in her dorm room alone. She’s struggling to straighten the sheets of a top bunk, truly the most labor intensive part of cleaning this section of a room she shares with three others on this Sunday afternoon.

She’ll listen to the podcast and think: “I have to remember this. It will come in handy someday for something. I don’t know what, but I have to save it and hide it away, like a squirrel hides their nuts, but not really because those squirrels lose those nuts all the time, but you know what I mean.”

2

121422

So let’s say, you have this boss or co-worker or friend or just someone who's always showing up in your corner. There’s a silence he carries to the corners he arrives in, it’s as heavy as his paycheck, as thick as his ego and it’s sour and reeks of entitlement; this silence is so vast, so all encompassing that it’s even there when they're talking too loud or talking too much . You hate the silences. The absence of sound is an alarm clock and before in the noise you were sleeping but now in the silence you’re awake to the threat right there in the room so that’s when you say: (Into microphone) One time, I heard a podcast that says you shouldn’t do work in bed.

And maybe he’s still in your corner but now at least you’ve changed the subject.

IC hops up on the dumpster bed.

The one thing that I don’t remember about this study is if THEY define what. Work. Is. I don’t think they do. What is work? What if I am reading a challenging book? Is that work?

Is knitting a sweater work? What about clipping my toenails, masturbating, paying a credit card bill, humming softly, writing. What about talking? Should one avoid performing emotional labor with the person on the pillow next to us?

If you do work in bed, and it’s not your own bed, then does it count?

If I sleep with a briefcase, a laptop, planner, iphone, ipad, google home and apple watch every night BUT I make sure to do it in someone else’s bed have I found a loophole?

(Into mic) Yes, I think I have.

A Russian nesting doll attached to a fishing line bounces out of a drop box above IC’s head. Still on the dumpster, IC stands up and pulls the doll down. As she speaks this next part, she begins to unpack the large doll into its smaller dolls on to the dumpster/bed.

This is how tonight will work: I’ll tell you a story. I’ll tell you another. And another and another.

Until you’re sick and bloated and full of stories. You’ll wonder where we are going and what’s it all coming to and when we will get there. But before we get there, we have to start here. And here is with this first story: IC exits. KK plays the violin.

3

121422

-THE STORY OF THE 1001 NIGHTS*This next section is interactive with the audience and accompanied by projected illustrations. IC has the audience get up and do or say or act out, lightly, some of the things she is saying.

So there’s this King and the King has a brother, also a king. Two. Brother. Kings.

King 1 hasn’t seen King 2 in a long time, because King 2 lives far away in another Kingdom.

King 1’s kingdom is onstage. King 1 invites King 2 to come over to his kingdom. King 2 accepts the invitation, gathers all his horses and sets off! But he’s like two minutes away from home when he’s like: Oh dang I forgot something and he goes back to his palace and LO AND BEHOLD! CLICK! *PROJECTION: CARTOON DRAWING OF SEX He finds that his wife has taken this, so far VERY BRIEF, absence as an opportunity to start doing some hardcore nasty-sweet-love-making-nasty with one of his servants (or slaves, depending on what edition of the book you happen to be reading). King 2 is SO PISSED OFF! HORRIFIED! ENRAGED! he kills them both!* *PROJECTION: X’S APPEAR OVER EVERYONE IN PREVIOUS IMAGE, CROSSING THEM OUT So King 2’s wife is dead and then after that, one would think that he might, like, cancel his vacation travel plans to go see his brother cause that’s, like, a lot to go through. Like maybe he needs a breather. Or to be sent to jail for manslaughter. But a plan’s a plan and he keeps going.

King 2 gets to King 1’s kingdom. And he doesn’t tell his brother about his wife’s betrayal. Instead he just kinda sulks.

King 1 is like “Let’s go hunting,” but King 2 is not in the mood.

King 1 leaves. King 2 is moping. King 2 mopes standing in this corner, he mopes in that corner, he mopes by this prop shelf. He mopes by a window....King 2 happens to be moping by a window and he looks out the window and guess what????

CLICK! *PROJECTION: CARTOON DRAWING OF ORGY LO AND BEHOLD King 1’s wife is HAVING! A! GIANT! ORGY! WITH! A! BUNCH! OF! SERVANTS! OR SLAVES! DEPENDING ON WHAT EDITION YOU HAPPEN TO BE READING! So King 2 sees this orgy. And he’s... happy? Yeah, happy.

Happy that this classic Shaggy-It-wasn’t-me-picture-this-we were-both-butt-naked-creepin-on-the-bathroom-floor-how could-I-forget-that-I-had-given-him-an-extra-key, but-all-that-time-he-was-standing-there-he-neve r-took-his-eyes-off-me situation... has happened to him AND his brother, and maybe a little turned on? Because I’m pretty sure he watches this for a while....

So King 1 gets back from hunting.

4

121422 King 2 is like “I got some news for you: Your wife? Totally cheating on you.”

King 1 is like: “I gotta see this with my own eyes.”

So they devise an e l a b o r a t e plan.

They say that they are leaving to go hunting but actually they just hide.

Very elaborate.

So they’re hiding. King 1’s wife, thinking her husband has gone*PROJECTION: CARTOON OF ORGY HAS! A! GIANT! ORGY! AGAIN! ARE YOU READING A WATERED DOWN MARY ZIMMERMAN PLAY? THEN THEY ARE SERVANTS. ARE YOU READING ONE WRITTEN BY A RACIST VICTORIAN? THEN THEY ARE SLAVES! King 1 sees this does the same as King 2.* He kills everyone! *PROJECTION: X’S APPEAR OVER EVERYONE IN PREVIOUS IMAGE, CROSSING THEM OUT King 1 and 2 are like: “Wow! I can’t believe it. You’re the most powerful King in the world. And I am the most powerful King in the world. And if this happened to BOTH of us thenCLICK*-

*PROJECTION: “ALL WOMEN MUST BE EVIL. IT MUST BE THE WOMEN. THERE IS NO OTHER EXPLANATION.”

All women must be evil. It must be the women. There is no other explanation!”

After this, King 2? No longer mentioned in the story. I guess he goes home.

AM playing King 2 goes back to their seat.

And because “All women are evil it must be the women there is no other explanation”, King 1 makes a kingdom-wide decree to enact revenge on all womankind by taking a new bride every night. He will sleep with her, and then kill her in the morning.

Time goes by. A lot of women are dead.

IC goes into the audience and finds another audience member.

So the king has this servant. Called a Vizier.

IC prompts the “Vizier” to stand up and join her on stage.

Google the word, all you need to know is that you’re a high ranking political officer. And it’s up to the Vizier to be the one to find these unlucky women for the king. Now, the Vizier has a daughter, Scheherazade, who is like 14 and she’s wise beyond her years has read a lot of books and is witty and quick and interested and curious and hates that all of this stuff happening

5

121422 to women and, even though she has a free pass to not be one of the women who falls prey to the king’s decree she comes forward, to her father, and says: “Dad, I’ll marry the King.”

Dad’s like: “No Way.” IC prompts the “Vizier” to say “No Way.” But Scheherazade is like: “I’m going in.”And you can sit back down.

IC gets the audience to give a round of applause for the audience member who played the Vizier.

So Scheherazade marries the king. But Scheherazade has a planIC sits on the dumpster bed.

Scheherazade goes to the king’s room. She sits on the edge of the bed. She cries.

KK plays the violin.

But only because she’s planned to cry.

The king asks her: “Why are you crying?”

Which is an insane thing to ask someone who you will be murdering the next day. Like, it’s pretty obvious why she's crying!

She says: “If the King will allow it, I’d like to say goodbye to my sister.”

But only because she’s planned to say this.

So Scheherazade’s sister, Dunyazade, comes in and says: KK: “Will you tell me a story?”

But only because she’s been told by Scheherazade to say this.

The king lets her tell her story.

So, Scherazade tells a story.

KK plays violin. IC begins setting up the Russian nesting dolls on the bed again, which, in the commotion of the previous scene, have scattered everywhere.

But she doesn’t end the story, saying that if the King wants to hear the rest of it, he’ll have to let her live one more night so she can tell it. So, he lets her live one more night. Scheherazade finishes the story the next night, but then starts a new story, this one she also doesn’t end, saying that if the king wants to hear it he’ll have to let her live one more night. And then one more night. And one more night. And one more night.

6

121422

Abrupt. KK stops playing. IC jumps off the bed.

For 1001 nights. HENCE the name. After that the King says Scheherazade can live. HOORAY! And that’s the end.

Everyone who did something: Stand up! Take a bow! Take a bow! You earned it!

That’s Katie, she is playing the violin! She’s so fucking good at the violin it’s crazy! I don’t play the violin. Never have! Never will! BUT I do have another story!

-THE STORY OF A GIRL*IC picks up a pile of books and speaks into the mic.

I was on hour 7.5 of an 8 hour shift at my job at the feminist independent bookstore and trying to figure out why there was a book about gastrointestinal disorders in the Sex and Relationships section when I feel a tap on my shoulder, it’s an old friend that I haven’t seen in awhile. We hug.

She isn’t alone. Standing behind her is a boy I do not know. This is my friend’s friend. He says “I was just told about your little project about The Thousand and One Nights.” The boy seems excited to make it about himself. “I was trying to see if I could remember what the story of the Thousand and One Nights was.”

A challenge.

“Well let’s see what you’ve come up with,” I say. And the boy begins his summary: “Well, once there was a king who was bored? So he has his wife tell him a story every night for 1001 nights...And like...Aladdin and stuff...Well, that’s all I know. It’s probably wrong. But that’s what I got!”

“You pretty much got it,” I said, looking towards the door I would run out of if I wasn’t trapped. I place the gastrointestinal book on the pregnancy shelf, this is also not where it goes.

Outside the bookshop it is evening. I have been there since 11 in the morning…*

-THE STORY OF EVERY MORNING*IC stacks all of the books on her head one by one. Once they are all in a tower on her head she walks backwards, balancing.

The story of Scheherazade is the story of someone who sits up every morning somewhat surprised and most likely relieved that her head is still attached to her neck.

It’s the mad sprawling equations of an expert strategist, the firm grip of a cliffhanger, an artist of the “To-Be-Continued,” someone who never rests on an ending.

7

121422 Most likely, Scheherazade never rested. I’ve heard it said that in some places her name is never just said as Scheherazade it’s always followed by the storyteller. Scheherazade the Storyteller, what she does being the same as who she is. Stories lead to stories lead to stories and, while every story grows further and further from their origin point, the circumstance that incites this unpacking stays in place: A woman is in bed telling a story to a man. A woman is trying to survive.* KK violin. Something threatening.

-THE STORY OF A BOYIn one sweeping motion, IC moves the dumpster/bed out of the way and begins to climb the pole.

One time I was in a park with a boy and I could tell the boy wanted to kiss me. I did not want to kiss the boy. So, I did everything. E-v-e-r-y-t-h-i-n-g that I could think of to avoid the slowing down of a conversation, the meeting of our lips. I pointed out every bird, every twig, every tree, every flower in that park. I succeeded. I managed to go that whole time without that kiss ever happening. I succeeded like I did with the boy in the house.

One time, I was in a house with a boy. Actually he was a man. Maybe ten years older than my 19 years of age. I could tell he wanted to spend the night. I did not want him to spend the night.

So, I did everything, everything that I could think of to get him to walk back out the door so I could lock it from the inside. I told him I had a headache. I told him I had a test. I told him “I have a headache and a test.” I succeeded. I succeeded like I did with the boy on the bus.

IC has reached the top of the pole and let's go with her hands so she is just holding on by her feet. It’s precarious.

One time, I was on a bus with a boy. He wanted to put his head on my shoulder. I let him. His head was heavy, my shoulder was sweaty, his heavy head liked my shoulder and my heavy heart liked his head and understood he was tired and understood he would only ever like my shoulder. My head knew I should do everything I could think of to get him to lean against the window, so as to protect my heart. But at that point there had already been the boy in the park and the boy in the house, so I separated my shoulder from my head and my head from my heart because it was too much work to switch seats.

KK ends music.

8

121422

-THE STORY OF THE LIST*IC takes a paper from the body of the largest Russian nesting doll and approaches the mic The following is a historical document, excavated, uncovered by my own two hands. Which now, I will recite. The reason why I will recite it I will tell you after I recite it!

IC speaks into mic: February 2018 purchases from amazon.com: One Thousand And One Nights by Hanan Al Shaykh: 8.96 cents. Used. The Biography of Sir Richard F. Burton 12.97 cents. Used. One Thousand and One Nights by Richard F. Burton (New, but old). Let her Speak the Complete Transcript of Wendy Davis, Swiffer pads, garbage bags, and a four-pack of Mrs. Meyer’s Lemon Verbena hand soap, because I needed those too. I needed to recite this because I needed to tell you, nay show you, how much I fucking love amazon.com.* *PROJECTION: “THE STORY OF THE WORD VERBENA” IC grabs some soap in a pump bottle from underneath an audience member’s chair and begins to wildly pump the soap into an audience member’s hand.

Have you ever tried Mrs. Meyer’s Lemon Verbena Handsoap? It’s a true delight for family and friends alike! The lemon is good, the lemon is fine, but like my buddy Karel in Los Angeles said one time: “Lemons, Lemons, Lemons they’re all the same!” It’s the Verbena that is the thing of it.

It’s the Verbena that makes you really feel like you are treating yourself, you know what I mean?

I think it's the word Verbena. That word is SEXY. Words that start with a V and end in an A usually are! Vivipara, Venezuela, Valencia, Vag....nilla. Take the word Vasectomy, okay? Now add an A: Vasectomy-a. Don’t you want one now? I know I do. But I don’t got no balls.

IC returns to the stage Speaking of not having balls….

-THE STORY OF THE BALLS*Why the FUCK did not one of you single liberal progressive Edgewater dwelling-ASS motherfuckers BOO at me when I said I love amazon.com?!?! HAVE YOU NOT BEEN LOOKING AT THE NEWS THIS LIFETIME? Maybe you felt the tension, but were like: oh god I 9

121422 can’t say anything about it. Maybe you were scared ...Were you scared? “Oh but she’s doing such a good job up there! She’s really working hard! We aren't going to disrespect her by making noise during her little talky-talk!” Is that why? Is that what it is? You disagree but you were AFRAID? AFRAID: to stand up to our inherited theatrical power dynamic relationship between audience and performer and use your VOIIIICE!!! WHERE ARE YOUR PRINCIPALS! WHERE IS YOUR NPR TOTE BAG AND TAX DEDUCTIBLE DONATION LETTERS? HOW QUICK ARE YOU TO FORGET YOUR OWN INSTAGRAM STORIES OF X’S THROUGH PRIME BOXES, YOU LEFT LEANING TWAT-HUMPERS? Maybe you just didn’t understand the gravitas, the situation, the seriousness, the stakes of me specifically saying that I loved amazon.com. So let me lay this story out for you:

-THE STORY OF MY DAY JOB-* IC goes wild. She’s at a 10 out of 10, folks!

I WORK AT ONE OF THE LAST 12 REMAINING FEMINIST BOOKSTORES IN THE COUNTRY, AND YOU WANNA KNOW WHY IT’S ONE OF THE LAST 12 REMAINING BOOKSTORES ACROSS THE COUNTRY? BECAUSE AMAZON IS ANNIHILATING ALL OF THEM! IT IS WIDELY KNOWN ACROSS THE LAND THAT AMAZON.COM DOES NOT PAY THEIR WORKERS A FAIR LIVING WAGE AND DEVELOPS TECHNOLOGY FOR THE BAD GUYS AND and MEANWHILE I am laying in my bed in my pajamas while getting pajamas!!!!!!!* *PROJECTION: DRAWING OF A SILLY IC IN PAJAMAS I come from a pro-union anti-capitalist breed of Jews raised by hardcore socialist other JEWS, my dad literally named my sister after Emma Goldman-FAMED ANARCHIST EMMA GOLDMAN- aaaaaand- the one click add to cart makes me SO HORNY! I WOULD NIBBLE ON JEFF BEZOS TAINT IF GIVEN THE OPPORTUNITY. * *PROJECTION: DRAWING OF A TONGUE IN A BUTT I should be murdered for the amount I spend on this website and not even one single one human being had the human balls to human boo me.

-THE STORY OF AN ORAL TRADITION-* IC: The story of 1001 nights started out as an oral tradition. (to AM) I’m gonna start a game of telephone and send it that way. Repeat what you hear to the person next to you.

10

121422

IC whispers a line of Richard Siken’s Poem “Scheherazade” to an audience member and instructs them to whisper it to the next person. While this happens, IC walks through the audience to the other side of the audience.

Every written-down version of The Thousand and One Nights is the product of a lot of men getting in little boats and taking things that didn’t belong to them, But it started as an oral tradition, the stories span time and geography and culture and class and language. Because of this, it is nearly impossible to know what is original and what has been changed, lost, misheard or intentionally incorrectly written down.

What was the phrase?

AM responds with whatever they heard. (to AM) Close, but not exactly.

While the protagonist who lays out the stories within stories is always a woman, the people who have told her story, have predominantly been men.

I’m gonna start another game of telephone, have it go this way, but this time... DO IT LIKE A MAN. IC whispers a different line from Richard Siken’s Poem “Scheherazade” to a different audience member. Like before, she tells them to pass it down. IC sits in the house and speaks into the mic as the phrase makes its way down.

In the 1,001 nights, the fictional Scheherazade tells stories of the everyday. Sisters and brothers. Couples. The working class. People who make mistakes. People who learn from mistakes. Pirates take over ships.* *PROJECTION: PIRATE SHIP DRAWING Fishermen get crammed into bottles* and thrown to the bottom of the sea. *PROJECTION: FISHERMAN DRAWING Royalty is made foolish as kings get trapped in wooden cabinets*, while the woman who trapped him there gets to run free. *PROJECTION: CABINET DRAWING To weaken the powerful away from violence is to teach. But she has to do it carefully. She couches lessons of morality in absurdity, so that the powerful don’t know they are weakening, they are too distracted.

11

121422 What was the phrase?

AM responds. (to AM) Close, but not exactly.

If we focus too hard on the stories themselves we might forget about the voice that is telling them. Sometimes Scheherazade is weaving beautiful stories rich with imagery and allegory and other times she is talking just to talk.

IC picks a copy of “1001 Nights” from the bookshelf, where, now we see there are a bunch of versions. IC delicately hands the book to an audience member. A gift.

You can have this copy. Some of the stories are good, some are bad. You might like them and you might not. You’ll remember what she is doing to keep going more than the content of what she is actually saying. My favorite story to tell is the Story of the Fart. Would you like to hear it?

IC waits for audience response.

I’ll tell you later.

IC goes back to the stage and stands as close to the sheets and as far back away from the audience as possible.

The stories I like to tell, are stories like these:* *PROJECTION: DRAWING OF MOM When my mom laughs at something that none of us laugh at she says,* “It’s funny, but it’s not ha-ha funny.”* *PROJECTION: PICTURE OF MOM -PLUS- “IT’S FUNNY, BUT IT’S NOT HA-HA FUNNY” WORD BUBBLE *PROJECTION: DRAWING OF CIGARETTE *There was a woman who only smokes on leap year. She doesn’t smoke at all but every four years she lets herself have all of the cigarettes she wants.* *PROJECTION: DRAWING OF CIGARETTE -PLUS- “COUGH, COUGH” WORD BUBBLE *PROJECTION: DRAWING OF A LYFT At this point, I’ve had three experiences* of sitting in a Lyft, in complete silence and then the Lyft driver saying:* “Do you have kids?” and nothing more.

12

121422 *PROJECTION: DRAWING OF A LYFT -PLUS- “DO YOU HAVE KIDS” WORD BUBBLE Now, IC approaches the bowl that has the audience member’s stories in it, she picks out a story at random and tells a story based on what the piece of paper says, she does this three times. Or as many times as feels right* *PROJECTION: DRAWING OF CURLY HAIR I had a dream before I did this show that the world eliminated all hair ties. I had to do this whole show with my hair flying in my face.* *PROJECTION: DRAWING OF A BULLFIGHT During Spanish bullfighting, when the bull is killed, which happens 99.9 percent of the time in a bullfight; the bull’s entire body is consumed in the marketplace the next day. (To KK) And it’s good luck to eat the balls.

IC gets the book “THE BIOGRAPHY OF RICHARD BURTON” and balances it on her head.*

-THE STORY OF AN APPETITE*History is a hungry person at hour 7.5 of an 8 hour shift. History is hungry and it has a way of eating up everything put before it. History has eaten up the record on who was the first voice to say or hand to write down the oral tradition of the 1001 nights. But there is one thing for sure, and that is it was NOT this dude Richard Burton.

Richard F. Burton.

(Into mic) The F stands for Francis. *PROJECTION: “THE STORY OF RICHARD BURTON”

-THE STORY OF RICHARD BURTON*It occurs to me that Richard Burton is also the name of that famous actor who was married to Elizabeth Taylor. And though they are both notorious womanizers, this is not the Richard Burton I am talking about! To avoid any further confusion, I will henceforth refer to this Richard Burton as Dick.

13

121422 IC grabs the sheet off the dumpster and sends the dolls flying to the ground. She ties the sheet around her neck and now it is a cape.

KK plays an ominous motif.

There were already many versions of the 1001 nights published in the 1800s. But Dick’s translation, much like the gonorrhea going around Victorian England at the time, was the most widespread. This is due in large part to the persistence and commitment of Dickie B’s wife.

Isabel Burton*. He pirated all of the material, and she was the one responsible for its financial success. *PROJECTION: “THE STORY OF ISABEL”

-THE STORY OF AN APPETITE* IC begins to search for the smallest of the nesting dolls that is somewhere on the floor.

History is hungry and it loves eating women in particular. It leaves no evidence of this feast. Like a bulimic discarding the bones of the rotisserie chicken in the neighbors trash: history eats women in shame. We must go crawling through dumpsters to find any trace.* *PROJECTION: “ORDERED OFF. PAY, PACK AND FOLLOW.” IC picks up the little dolls from the floor and carefully sets them on edge of the dumpster. IC takes off the sheet and begins to fold it.

Dick was a man whose day job was to get into a little boat and set off to take things that didn’t belong to him. Like any top notch husband, Dick would speak to Isabel in the form of an order. A hand scrawled note when she woke up in the morning.

KK: Ordered off. Pay, pack and follow.

And Isabel would, acting as her husband’s aid, nurse, secretary. When Dick died, she built him a highly appropriative bedouin tent inspired tomb. She would be buried there too, years later, chewed up, swallowed but not quite forgotten in the belly of history.*

-THE STORY OF THE SONG*There are more pieces of art born out of the 1001 nights than are stories the fictional queen told, poems, paintings and symphonies. Katie has been playing a piece by Rimsky Korsakov. I came across it while working on my “little project” on the 1001 nights.

14