Thursday, May 5, 2016


Note: This is not the “real” David Hockney. This is the David Hockney who appeared in my dream the other night (see below, April 30), the one for whom I had prepared a bath in the store-front window of a luxury hotel; the one who complained the water was too cold, and who shrank and shrank until he was—almost—nothing. What follows is a record of the imaginary conversation that “Peter” had with “Peter as David Hockney”—the projection in my dream... It's the inner conflict between two different identities that interests me. Although both, I acknowledge, are fabrications. Any thoughts?

Peter as David Hockney: You’re killing me.
Peter: I’m taking care of you.
PDH: You always wanted to be who I am.
P: You’re disgusting. Pathetic.
PDH: I don’t care what you think of me.
P: That’s your problem, right there. You don’t care what anyone thinks.
PDH: That’s a problem? It’s who I am.
P: That’s your excuse.
PDH: I like being who I am. I’m free.
P: But look at you. You’re naked.
PDH: Anything wrong with being naked? It’s who I am.
P: What will people think?
PDH: Let them think what they want. I shake my dick at them.
P: Your dick is shrinking. Like the rest of you.
PDH: So what? It still works, doesn’t it?
P: So you’re proud of it?
PDH: Of course I am. It’s mine. It’s who I am. It gives me a whole lot of pleasure.
P: Don’t you think of anything else?
PDH: What’s better to think about? What you don’t get, it’s all about love.
P: It’s about sex.
PDH: That’s where you’re wrong. It’s all about love.
P: So you love yourself?
PDH: You bet I do. I love my dong. Ding-dong!
P: I wish…
PDH: Yes, what do you wish?
P: I wish I was a little more like you.
PDH: You’re ashamed. That’s your problem. You’re just full of shame.
P: So tell me, what do I need to do?
PDH: You need to loosen up. Try singing. Dancing.
P: I sing out of tune. And I can’t dance.
PDH: Then sing out of tune. Dance badly.
P: And make a spectacle of myself?
PDH: That’s the whole idea. If no one can see you, you’re not there.
P: Well, look at you. You’re the shrinking wonder. You’re headed down the drain.
PDH: So get me out of here, for God’s sake, will you? You’re supposed to be taking care of me.

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