December 2008 - Equal And Opposite

Equal and Opposite

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Equal and Opposite - December 2008

The Chair of the Board (2006)

A chair faces.

A figure enters and sits on the chair.

Stares straight ahead.

Looks around.

Speaks:

OK, I’m watching.

Tilts head and peers.

What am I watching?

Squints.

What we all are.

Rub of the eye.

Better keep the third eye quiet.

Strains and relaxes.

How long will this last?

Scratch of the head.

Keep it quiet not without breath.

Thumb and index finger pegs the nostrils.

There might be fatalities.

Unpegs and runs index along to slit the throat.

Silent exhalations from inarticulate lips.

Rubs a furrowed and downward brow.

Can’t form words without a tongue.

Pokes it at a member.

Can too.

Sighs.

They can form in the head by way of signs.

A leg shakes.

Can’t say without tongue.

Rests elbow on dissident-leg and hand on cheek.

All my life I’ve had tongue and never have I spoken.

Eyes the sky.

Talented taster.

Folds arms as leg demonstrates louder.

Can they see me?

Looks down at recalcitrant appendage.

My leg is shaking, it’s spasmodic.

Shakes head and looks around in disgust.

Uncontrollable.

Stares blankly.

Is that me?

Stares blankly.

If not, how much else I do is involuntary?

Head swivels and leg abates.

I came here – voluntary.

Irate.

Had to pay to volunteer.

Resigns.

Charitable cause.

Smiles wryly.

The pen to the page is worthy.

Scans the audience with truant-pupils.

Worthier than the bum to the seat.

Pupils turn to owners feet.

That’s me.

Alternately lifts the toes of the feet keeping the heels grounded.

I: a bum on a seat.

Looks up and stares out.

Has this thing no end?

Stares out.

Look at me.

Engages members.

Really look at me.

Holds members.

What do you see?

Looks to the wings.

Do you really see me?

Eyes shut and hands over eyes.

Where I am no eye can catch light.

Peers out.

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December 1st 2008 @ 23:24

Posted By: Norm - Category: Primitive Art

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The Chair of the Board (2006)

Peers out.

I’ve tried.

Removes hands from face.

It’s more like a blue flame.

Erects an index finger.

Is thought the light that makes ideas visible?

Dismantles erection.

Did I say that?

Looks at a once shaking leg.

The more I think about this uncontrollable leg the more it gets out of hand.

Hunched over.

Visions of a jack-hammer leg boring a hole in the floor.

Head pans across the room.

I wish I could bore the whole floor.

Uncertain.

Am I?

Index finger meets nose.

The leg is a flaw; a nervous thing, no doubt.

Index finger taps nose.

Can anyone see this leg?

Index finger massages nose.

Maybe.

Stares at 45 degrees down and finger comes off .

It’s almost over now.

Looks up.

I assure you.

Looks down.

I assure me.

Stares into space.

I: sure me; who else bar?

Looks down and around and all over.

I could be someone other than me.

Shoulders shrug.

What of it?

Surveys the members.

Shall we call it quits?

Leans back.

I was never here.

Leans forward.

Where was I, if not here?

Looks ahead.

I’ve missed something.

Prays.

This endless eternal internal prattle never ends.

Cuts the air with prayer-hands.

End!

Pauses.

It’s made me miss vital facts.

Cleans teeth with tongue.

I’ll never catch up.

Cleans gums with teeth.

Try as I might.

Glares to the side.

See, there I go.

Purses lips.

I’ve missed more.

Bottom lip pushes top lip up to the nose and relaxes.

Perhaps the toothless one could say a few words – break the monotony.

Glares.

Break monotony, break!

Blinks and breathes.

The toothless one would not appreciate the attention; halitosis.

Fans the nose.

Red cheeks would say it all despite saying nothing.

Agitated.

Saying it all: look forward to that I do.

Despairs.

Nothing says something like nothing.

Rubs hands together.

The thing about nothing is that it’s nowhere.

Examines palms.

In the back of my head: nothing is the air around you.

Looks at the air.

Air is not nothing.

Scratches knuckles.

Spirit is.

Squeezes hands.

My capacity to entertain myself is greater than to do the same for anyone else.

Looks for empty spaces.

This can’t be a good show; the crowd has thinned.

Sniffs the air.

Maybe there is a fire.

Raises eyebrows.

Would I make it?

Thrusts head forward.

Pushing and trampling my way to glorious safety.

Runs fingers through hair.

First out I’d lock the doors behind me to keep the fire controlled.

Nods head.

Some would perish.

Nods head with more force.

All of us perish.

Head abates.

We are all perishables.

Winces.

Those with dental courage would get a proper burial and those with crematory preferences would save money.

Indignant.

There you go, I’d be saving you all.

Notices the members.

Look at all the baby birds at meal time.

Strikes the air with an index finger.

Mum says: out you go, it’s time for you to go, go.

Shakes head wearily.

I can’t do it anymore.

Heavy head and eyes.

Find nourishment elsewhere; I’m tired of regurgitating for an ungrateful progeny.

Eyes and head light.

I was once ungrateful.

Glib.

Some of us, no doubt, will dispute this.

Looks to the distances.

You all know me and you think: ungrateful?

Bombast.

Never.

Tastes the mouth.

Was.

Stares at a point on the floor.

I know me best and maybe I know you best too.

Looks up.

I’d like to think so.

Looks up further.

I’d like to think, so I do.

Eyes level out.

Thinking is not doing.

Falls back into chair.

Not much like thought though really.

Yawns.

More like a vacant premises with prospective tenants coming through for an inspection.

Leans forward and puts on a voice.

Roomy isn’t it?

Leans back and normal voice returns.

Very.

Leans forward and puts on a voice.

What’s that smell and is that rat faeces?

Leans back and normal voice returns.

Most definitely.

Yawns and shakes head.

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December 1st 2008 @ 13:46

Posted By: Norm - Category: Australian Art

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The Chair of the Board (2006)

Yawns and shakes head.

See there I go.

Folds arms.

If I dare laugh it will send shockwaves through the boards.

Yawns.

I dare not.

Nods off and wakes.

You have to get up pretty early in the morning to go to work but before that make me laugh.

Sniffs.

You’d be hard pressed to get a few vowels delivered in succession from me.

Excavates nose.

Stony faced as I am.

Examines artefacts.

I have to be careful to whom I lease to.

Leans forward and rubs hands.

So, an intimate evening – it is isn’t it?

Pauses.

Evening?

Nods head.

Intimate, no doubt.

Cleans tongue with teeth.

Nothing to fear.

Looks down at the chair.

The chair would like to say a few words but it can’t.

Sits up straight.

It’s being oppressed by a violent one-eyed dictator.

Fiddles with cuffs.

Never has four legs been so obedient.

Pats the chair.

Good chair.

Indicates with an index finger to sit.

Sit.

Pulls hand away.

Wait, I am.

Stretches legs considerately.

Leg stretch.

Yawns.

When will this interminable crap commence or conclude.

Sighs.

I can’t tell.

Grimaces.

I know but I can’t tell.

Holds grimace.

That can’t be good.

Winces.

Negativity sours my experience.

Flippant.

Bugger it.

Irritated.

This experience is souring my outlook.

Nods head gently.

I must remain vigilant.

Looks about the place.

Do we know if it’s started?

Pumps legs up and down.

Waiting and watching.

Stops.

Masochists.

Taking stock.

Some wankers.

Scans the members.

Wankers: you know who you are.

Sympathetic.

Accusatory isn’t it?

Sees something above.

What’s worse being one or being labelled one?

Tries to identify the something.

Self-slaughter is a misplaced term.

Resigns to ignorance.

Wanking’s a far cry from killing yourself.

Stares at the floor.

If you are a wanker or you’ve been labelled one don’t kill yourself.

Knowing.

It’s an unweeded garden that grows to seed.

Thumbs up.

Sorry green thumbs: you’re not wankers by definition.

Holds a thumb up.

If you are, it’s likely that your thumb is not the only thing that’s green.

Raises the thumb.

I above all know.

Points thumb to the side.

That’s not what’s meant by wankers, anyway.

Slams fist down on a palm.

It’s a metaphorical wank I speak of.

Holds up fist on palm.

You know who you are.

Palm closes over fist.

I can’t hardly help but digress.

Relaxes.

It’s hard to sit here like this.

Looks down where the chair meets the floor.

Concentrating.

Looks at a leg of the chair.

Concentrate.

Holds the seat of the chair.

Please do.

Holds.

I’ve done well to last this long.

Hands drop.

We all have.

Visibly listening.

Sounds like a finale.

Suspicious.

Could be.

Resigns.

Far be it from me to call it done.

Tastes mouth.

So be it.

Eyebrows raise.

Well, what a finish.

Head nods.

Justice.

Stares down blankly at 45 degrees.

End.

Claps hands repeatedly.

Looks about in surprise.

Sighs.

Gets up and exits.

The chair.

End.

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December 1st 2008 @ 03:49

Posted By: Norm - Category: Australian Art

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