First came INCIDENCE, COINCIDENCE, PROVIDENCE. It lingered, a constantly morphing work that would never exist.
INCIDENCE
No flowers. The story unfolds, details are observed: active and passive voices share shear the same lines.
“I like the curves,” Miranda thinks looking at the map in the full length mirror that was pulled from a trash pile at some time and brought home. At the moment everything around seems to her an accumulation. Her eyes are open wide. Peripheral details loom large. Miranda smiles, gets giddy viewing her own image with its wide-eyed expression, and she bends over backward to the floor. The image of Miranda watches from the glass. She laughs. The one on this side of the looking glass is astonished. Both are extremely joyous.
The wide-eyed demeanor is on Miranda’s face even still waking up to a ringing phone. The bed is a cluttered landscape of strewn objects. Like alien creatures they seem to people the hills, valleys and gullies formed by the blankets.
“Yes, I can come today. Two hours? Okay. Okay. Noon. Bye.”
Miranda looks through a keyhole at her noon destination. She is a photographer’s model. Whom she sees through a keyhole is herself, naked in the spotlight. Another female model emerges from the studio. As the photographer and the other model exchange conversation between themselves and Miranda, she enters the studio to wait for instruction. As the model she is accustomed to being told what to do. Form some reason, though, Miranda is observing quite through her own lens today, the world around her and particularly her place in that surroundings. “Like I’m seeing me and everything else from both inside my head and out.
“If it weren’t so fascinating watching Carl take pictures of me with the camera like a big mask or, really, like some substitute head, I would have really been squirming,” she thought later. “I definitely need to get out with lots of people; the air is like soup.”
INTERIOR BEDROOM
Miranda
(Wakes, answers phone, sleepy voice at first)
Hello. Urn. Yeah, I can come in today. In an hour? Mm. Okay. Okay. Okay. The rate we discussed. Three hours’ pay. okay. OK. Bye.
INTERIOR PHOTOGRAPHER’S STUDIO
Photographer
(getting shot ready)
So, today I’m working like a figure drawing session. Only I want to see the differences in your pose throughout a real long pose. I’m going to have you do 45 minute poses and I’ll shoot intermittently and see what I get.
Miranda
(posing)
Why?
Photog
(with irritation in voice)
Why? Because this is art. This is for my book project. All the models are going through phases in each pose. I want to see the angst and suffering. No one else has complained. And if they have they’re off the project, out of the book. You’ve got to give if you want to see results. That’s why!
(off screen) Look away during this pose.
Miranda
(after the shoot, getting dressed and stealing camera)
Man that sucked. Well, cash and carry –you’ve got to give if you want to see results.
(telemachus sleeps)
