Candent Night Terror

The long slog through the wasteland… and then a sylph — beatific, beauteous, wanton, and salacious all at once — appears hovering over the horizon line. I’m unsure about scale I can’t tell her true size: hummingbird-like one moment a massive Venus of Wllendorf towering over me the next moment. A bloodless moment in my head and the next I’m being lifted bodily by unseen hands one at each shoulder and I’m hovering above the desert. I’m seized by a priapic tear in my pants and I’m lead by my organ through the limitless sky, until it detaches and flits off to space and I begin to fall.

“Don’t show your work to too many people, and if you do, receive their advice with a deep breath, a thanks, and then tell yourself, this is MY work, nobody else’s. Never take the advice unless it really strikes a chord, and even then, let it sit with you for a while before altering your work.”

— Amanda Brainerd