Styles: Katra Michener, Love Illuminati | Anais Bouchard, Nais Lingerie | Aubrie Costello, Bus Stop
There are many stories in Twin Peaks — some of them are sad, some funny. Some of them are stories of madness, of violence. Some are ordinary. Yet they all have about them a sense of mystery — the mystery of life. Sometimes, the mystery of death. The mystery of the woods. The woods surrounding Twin Peaks. To introduce this story, let me just say it encompasses the All— it is beyond the “Fire,” though few would know that meaning. It is a story of many, but begins with one — and I knew her.
The one leading to the many is Laura Palmer. Laura is the one.
Sometime ideas, like men, jump up and say ‘hello’. They introduce themselves, these ideas, with words. Are they words? These ideas speak so strangely. All that we see in this world is based on someone’s ideas. Some ideas are destructive, some are constructive. Some ideas can arrive in the form of a dream. I can say it again: some ideas arrive in the form of a dream.
There is a sadness in this world, for we are ignorant of many things. Yes, we are ignorant of many beautiful things — things like the truth. So sadness, in our ignorance, is very real. The tears are real. What is this thing called a tear? There are even tiny ducts — tear ducts — to produce these tears should the sadness occur. Then the day when the sadness comes — then we ask: “Will this sadness which makes me cry — will this sadness that makes me cry my heart out — will it ever end?” The answer, of course, is yes. One day the sadness will end.
Even the ones who laugh are sometimes caught without an answer: these creatures who introduce themselves but we swear we have met them somewhere before. Yes, look in the mirror. What do you see? Is it a dream, or a nightmare? Are we being introduced against our will? Are they mirrors? I can see the smoke. I can smell the fire. The battle is drawing nigh.
Beauty is in the eye of the beholder. Yet there are those who open many eyes. Eyes are the mirror of the soul, someone has said. So we look closely at the eyes to see the nature of the soul. Sometimes when we see the eyes — those horrible times when we see the eyes, eyes that … that have no soul — then we know a darkness, then we wonder: where is the beauty? There is none if the eyes are soulless.
Through the darkness of future past, the magician longs to see, one chants out between two worlds: fire walk with me!
A Night at One-Eyed Jacks | A Soirée Featuring Nais Lingerie, Bus Stop Boutique, Jin-Ja, and Spodee Saturday, November tenth, 5-10 pm | Love Illuminati, 23 South State Street, Newtown, PA.
