Archive for the ‘Alex Dally MacFarlane’ Category
Iri’s Work
Monday, July 7th, 2008
Exhibit 1.a: The lines are a millimetre deep and three times as wide, and milky white compared to the pine-brown skin surrounding them. They line up like pale railings against a wall.
The placard underneath the image says that the woman painted is twenty-two.
Paper lanterns hung outside the gallery’s high windows, shedding patches of their colour — blue and yellow, red and seaweed-green — onto Turme’s white dress. She stood with her back to the lanterns, staring at the row of foot-wide paintings.
The pale lines matched so neatly those on her own thighs.
Exhibit 2.a: Look closely to see the lines, barely darker than the skin. Look closely to see how they cross the small breast, how they stretch between side and nipple.
The placard underneath says that the woman painted is nineteen.
Turme remembered the reviews: A gallery of that which is hidden away — for good reason! and What next, will artists paint the deformed and claim to be showing beauty?
“These are beautiful paintings,” she said.
“There’s a trend among artists to conceal the marks left by natural growth,” the gallery’s owner replied. “Iri, the artist, feels that concealment is un-necessary.”
She wanted to raise a hand and run her fingers over the paintings. Would they dip like the marks on her thighs? The paint looked textured enough for it.
When had she last seen artwork so honest?
Exhibit 2.c: Dark lines curve over soft skin, like half-bracelets, on the side of the girl. They point to the small of her back. They point to the lowest part of her stomach.
“I’ve been to six galleries today,” Turme said, “and seen a lot of paintings of nudes with flawless skin like glass from the Suresh Quarter. The ones with blue and green hair were interesting, I suppose. This, however…” She looked along the wall, at arms and legs, breasts and stomachs, covered in pale and dark lines.
“Would you like to meet Iri?” the gallery’s owner asked.
“I suppose I should, as I intend to sponsor his work.”
Notes for a Successful Transformation
Monday, June 16th, 2008
First shed your clothes. Be sure to do this lying on the ground. Be sure to wriggle from your clothes all at once, as if from a singular garment. If you fail at first, dress and try again. This is necessary practise for the next step.
(Julian Nae, the first person to attempt the transformation, achieved this perfectly in only one attempt. A tragic supplier of over-confidence, in his case.)
You must then shed your skin. It is useful to rub yourself against an abrasive surface — small stones, roots that break through the ground — in order to loosen your human skin from the body underneath. Be careful, though, not to cut your skin.
Not everyone is capable of this transformation. If you cannot shed your skin after four afternoons spent straining on the ground, you are not made for changing into this body.
(Do not, as Julian did, turn to extreme measures in your frustration. Do not take up a knife and cut yourself from forehead to groin. Do not expect this to achieve anything but your death.)
You will be smaller in your new body than in your previous one, but not as small as the snakes you have seen under patios and bushes. There will be four to six more sheddings of your skin — depending on your breed — until you reach your final size. To facilitate this process, you must make a nest somewhere you will not be disturbed. You need not eat.
You will emerge eight months to a year later, a snake. You will mate, eat and grow in small amounts as is natural to these animals.
There is no changing back into a human so be sure, before you start, that this is truly what you want.