THE HOUSE OF THE VAMPIRE TEETH
I woke up in the morning - after changing images on my website till two AM of sculptures now in storage from my former studio, on the purple couch in The House of The Vampire Teeth. 
After months in Europe, seventeen locations, countless missed and caught trains, buses, and planes, bumped up to first class, changed seats to accommodate mothers and families- carrying luggage for an older couple in Cannes- it could be time to go home. 

I woke up at nine am and ate a navel orange, biting its zest and quartered juices and white skin. The sun hurt my eyes. I would have to leave at ten-thirty to get to Charles de Gaulle. In The House of The Vampire Teeth- the bathroom had a pink light, and I had taken a bath in the Villeroy & Boch bathtub the night before. You log onto the internet in THOTVT [The House of The Vampire Teeth] with a long series of letters and numbers- some upper, some lower case. 

We lit two pink candles for my love the first night- which filled my heart- before drinking three bottles of wine and weeping uncontrollably and then screaming at the top of my lungs because I almost jumped out of my 6th story bedroom window. 
When I arrived in Paris- to the neighborhood behind Santa Croce, I entered a Parisian place- with an elevator at that. An elevator. Me and my luggage and canvas travel sac rode up all the way to the elegant door and entered. A luxury Vampire Princess Suite. 
My brain felt like Nude Descending a Staircase, No. 2- the Duchamp painting simulating movement and architecture as frozen music. Trapped. I wanted to stay in Paris. To go to the Saturday shows. But with no more wine. I couldn’t wake up spinning again, I promised. 

I siphoned coffee and grounds into a mug and called -800 Delta to change my flight. Done. The bag is packed but I will stay. Several cords, still attached to the wall. I had bled a little on the sheets. I had dropped blood on the bathroom floor. I walked back from the bedroom to the princess room with the chandeliers and wood floors, classic windows, and the purple vampire couch. "Ok- does this outfit work for yoga?" A tight white tee shirt and 70’s red gym shorts. I can work and email and do yoga and walk. As she asked me- “You must feel better now, you have a plan”- But no, I responded, “I feel worse. My family, what will they say?” Oh my god, I have to get on that plane. I called back, locked my room while she washed off her face mask. I ran out. Uber gold and two minutes- black jeans, white shirt, and back out the door, sucked through the elevator. 

We had left a watermelon on the street the day before. Sometimes not deciding is deciding. Sometimes deciding is not deciding. Sometimes I’m the decider, sometimes, I’m not. 

Two years ago, when I left for India, I felt like I was leaving my former life behind- being born again. In Spain, the teacher said she believed people could be reincarnated in groups. Sometimes that may happen with each flight. You fly, hallucinate, and come back down to earth.




 

 





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