Re: Sombre Carnivàle Démoniaque June 10th ~ Writing Event!
Posted: Thu Jun 14, 2018 9:12 pm
Waiting for Reynard
After numerous failed attempts I am finally ready to hear the Zombie Clown's story. I've seen the dark blue of the sky, so surreal. Siioow silhouetted against it, with shovel in hands, digging. I've seen his eyes, so vividly. I can see the lines around them and the cracks in his vintage white make-up as he grins widely at me.
I see the zombie clown haul his body up out of the hole that Siioow has dug. The black light is still illuminating him. He is, naturally, covered in dirt. His clown outfit is torn and tattered, reflecting the sadness of the zombie clown at discovering he has been lost to the world. So much time has passed by. He is an old world clown. His make-up is vintage like Siioow's. His wig, despite being misshapen from being in the ground, sticks out in a way that resembles a crown.
The zombie clown sits on the edge of the hole, legs dangling in it. He looks at Siioow. Siioow invites me to sit and I do. I join the Jester and the Clown sitting on the edge of the hole with our legs hanging over the side. It isn't that large of a hole, Siioow and I are on one side, the zombie clown on the other, and there is barely a foot between us. We sit and we are silent. I try to start the dialogue. I ask the clown if he has a name he would like to share. He rasps out a garbled name. It begins with "R". After a few attempts, he clearly says, "Reynard." Again, we sit and we are silent. With only the music I have put on as an offering and accompaniment in the background.
Both the Jester and the Clown seem to enjoy the music. After a bit, there is some movement in the black light, and there are two doll-like clowns dancing off to the left side of the hole, it is as if there is a spot light on them as they dance. It starts off very innocent, then as one piece of music ends, the dance ends and the dolls start a pantomime that is very adult. They fade away as I wonder where this is all leading. It is not the zombie clown's story. That is very apparent. They are like the opening act. Not a very good one.
Again, we are alone in the graveyard, sitting on the edge of the hole. We are silent and still. The zombie clown barely moves. He just sits there, gazing back at us, as we wait. I remind myself to wait, he will tell his story when he wants to. Siioow has other ideas as he breaks the silence, "We've spent a lot of time, sitting here, waiting for you."
Though the Jester does not take his eyes away from the clown, this is not addressed to the zombie, but to me.
"I apologize," I begin, speaking to the zombie clown. "I have had some difficultly with the process of getting to this point. You see, I am not in the habit of sneaking up on strange men digging in a graveyard. I have a much greater sense of self-preservation than that or I would not have lived as long as I have.
"I know better," I continue, as the zombie clown's face takes on an expression of bemusement, "than to approach someone digging a hole. It doesn't matter if they are digging to bury something or to find something. Either way, they aren't likely to want to be discovered. Plus, they have a shovel and they obviously know how to use it.
"So, under normal circumstances, I wouldn't be here. It is only because this is an exceptional situation that I have tried getting here as many times as I have, despite my better judgment. Siioow knows which clowns are the greatest and have a story to share. You must be. And you have one, and that is why I am here." I reach forward and place my right had over the clown's left hand, which is resting on his tattered knees. I give his hand a gentle squeeze to indicate that I am in earnest. "I would very much like to hear your story, Reynard." After a moment, I let go of his hand and sit back, waiting to see what he will do now.
Reynard stands. Much to my surprise, he doesn't start to tell a story. Instead, the black light becomes a spotlight upon him. And he is transformed. He is no longer the decaying, time-worn zombie, that labours to get to his feet. He is a spry clown at the top of his game. His make-up is fresh and his wig, like new. His clown outfit is whole and bounces with life as he begins to dance to the music that is playing. It is a modern piece. Music he would not have known when he was bringing joy and happiness to the crowds of his day.
My words can not do Reynard the Dancing Clown justice. I will say that what I witnessed brought a smile to my face, joy to my heart and I was full of wonder. Reynard had moves that the man who played the Scarecrow in the Wizard of Oz could only dream of being able to execute. Many clowns of his day must have wept at the sight of his performance. The briliance and whimsy of his improvisation, as I mentioned the music would have been completely unfamiliar to him. Yet he selected that music to share his performance with Siioow and I. As I watched, I understood how this clown was the greatest. The talent, the gift. Truly, being able to illicit laughter and smiles from the combination of timing and placement of limbs and body is a gift. One that is grossly underestimated and underrated by those who do not possess it.
All too soon, Reynard's performance was over. Siioow and I were now also standing and applauding. Reynard gave us a huge grin and sweeping bow. As his bow finished, the black light faded and Reynard changed back into the zombie clown that had climbed out of the hole.
I was so excited about the performance. But at the same time I was wondering. How on earth am I going to share this? My brain could barely keep up with every move that Reynard made, much less translate them in writing into something that another person could read and appreciate. A story, sure, you can share a story. But this was a performance! Gah!
So, while I can in no way guarantee that you will see in your mind's eye what I was shown, I have been told that it is okay to share the music that was part of the performance and that anyone who wishes to is invited to say "Reynard" while it is playing. Again, I cannot and do not guarantee results. I'm just sharing what I am able to share.
[youtube]LZwWp7CeCLQ[/youtube]
After numerous failed attempts I am finally ready to hear the Zombie Clown's story. I've seen the dark blue of the sky, so surreal. Siioow silhouetted against it, with shovel in hands, digging. I've seen his eyes, so vividly. I can see the lines around them and the cracks in his vintage white make-up as he grins widely at me.
I see the zombie clown haul his body up out of the hole that Siioow has dug. The black light is still illuminating him. He is, naturally, covered in dirt. His clown outfit is torn and tattered, reflecting the sadness of the zombie clown at discovering he has been lost to the world. So much time has passed by. He is an old world clown. His make-up is vintage like Siioow's. His wig, despite being misshapen from being in the ground, sticks out in a way that resembles a crown.
The zombie clown sits on the edge of the hole, legs dangling in it. He looks at Siioow. Siioow invites me to sit and I do. I join the Jester and the Clown sitting on the edge of the hole with our legs hanging over the side. It isn't that large of a hole, Siioow and I are on one side, the zombie clown on the other, and there is barely a foot between us. We sit and we are silent. I try to start the dialogue. I ask the clown if he has a name he would like to share. He rasps out a garbled name. It begins with "R". After a few attempts, he clearly says, "Reynard." Again, we sit and we are silent. With only the music I have put on as an offering and accompaniment in the background.
Both the Jester and the Clown seem to enjoy the music. After a bit, there is some movement in the black light, and there are two doll-like clowns dancing off to the left side of the hole, it is as if there is a spot light on them as they dance. It starts off very innocent, then as one piece of music ends, the dance ends and the dolls start a pantomime that is very adult. They fade away as I wonder where this is all leading. It is not the zombie clown's story. That is very apparent. They are like the opening act. Not a very good one.
Again, we are alone in the graveyard, sitting on the edge of the hole. We are silent and still. The zombie clown barely moves. He just sits there, gazing back at us, as we wait. I remind myself to wait, he will tell his story when he wants to. Siioow has other ideas as he breaks the silence, "We've spent a lot of time, sitting here, waiting for you."
Though the Jester does not take his eyes away from the clown, this is not addressed to the zombie, but to me.
"I apologize," I begin, speaking to the zombie clown. "I have had some difficultly with the process of getting to this point. You see, I am not in the habit of sneaking up on strange men digging in a graveyard. I have a much greater sense of self-preservation than that or I would not have lived as long as I have.
"I know better," I continue, as the zombie clown's face takes on an expression of bemusement, "than to approach someone digging a hole. It doesn't matter if they are digging to bury something or to find something. Either way, they aren't likely to want to be discovered. Plus, they have a shovel and they obviously know how to use it.
"So, under normal circumstances, I wouldn't be here. It is only because this is an exceptional situation that I have tried getting here as many times as I have, despite my better judgment. Siioow knows which clowns are the greatest and have a story to share. You must be. And you have one, and that is why I am here." I reach forward and place my right had over the clown's left hand, which is resting on his tattered knees. I give his hand a gentle squeeze to indicate that I am in earnest. "I would very much like to hear your story, Reynard." After a moment, I let go of his hand and sit back, waiting to see what he will do now.
Reynard stands. Much to my surprise, he doesn't start to tell a story. Instead, the black light becomes a spotlight upon him. And he is transformed. He is no longer the decaying, time-worn zombie, that labours to get to his feet. He is a spry clown at the top of his game. His make-up is fresh and his wig, like new. His clown outfit is whole and bounces with life as he begins to dance to the music that is playing. It is a modern piece. Music he would not have known when he was bringing joy and happiness to the crowds of his day.
My words can not do Reynard the Dancing Clown justice. I will say that what I witnessed brought a smile to my face, joy to my heart and I was full of wonder. Reynard had moves that the man who played the Scarecrow in the Wizard of Oz could only dream of being able to execute. Many clowns of his day must have wept at the sight of his performance. The briliance and whimsy of his improvisation, as I mentioned the music would have been completely unfamiliar to him. Yet he selected that music to share his performance with Siioow and I. As I watched, I understood how this clown was the greatest. The talent, the gift. Truly, being able to illicit laughter and smiles from the combination of timing and placement of limbs and body is a gift. One that is grossly underestimated and underrated by those who do not possess it.
All too soon, Reynard's performance was over. Siioow and I were now also standing and applauding. Reynard gave us a huge grin and sweeping bow. As his bow finished, the black light faded and Reynard changed back into the zombie clown that had climbed out of the hole.
I was so excited about the performance. But at the same time I was wondering. How on earth am I going to share this? My brain could barely keep up with every move that Reynard made, much less translate them in writing into something that another person could read and appreciate. A story, sure, you can share a story. But this was a performance! Gah!
So, while I can in no way guarantee that you will see in your mind's eye what I was shown, I have been told that it is okay to share the music that was part of the performance and that anyone who wishes to is invited to say "Reynard" while it is playing. Again, I cannot and do not guarantee results. I'm just sharing what I am able to share.
[youtube]LZwWp7CeCLQ[/youtube]