the asheville asylum
(01-06-89) "where the fuck is dmoll this is Cdur your looking at not
some dumb pus-laden zombie and i wanna know now where the fuck he is i went
to his room and there's nothing fucking there he told me to come see him on
the 3 wise men from the east shit fucking day in the morning and it's 2 o'clock...what
did they do with dmoll god damn it fuck shit tell me or i'll tear this fucking
place a fucking part god damn fuck shit where is he where the fuck is he....no
i don't wanna take it it makes my gills green and you know damned well makes
me vomit and you can stick this handel watermusic shit too"
so regis turned off the music, put down the envelop, then handed Cdur the bag and said
"do you trust me?" and not waiting, she said into the bag
"you know damned well i do" and not waiting, he said
"trust me, i'd never ever try to separate..." and she interrupted
"that's not the point. i know. i know. but i knew something would happen to him and i just wanted to be a part of it." and then in baritone, almost a growl, she said very slowly, "regis, i love him." and regis waited this time before he said
"he knows that. he knows. and in a week or so, just trust me, you'll know too. and you'll be happier for it." and Cdur waited too before she said
"ok." then she left the room. regis sat down behind the desk and looked at the return address and smiled and said out loud to the woman who had just left
"and what will you now become?"
and then,
later in Dmoll's room
her fingers began to glide quickly over the bed, the chair, the sink
like the tongue of a reptile trying to find something
that had scurrried away
and left behind
a residue, a warmth, a field
and then her hand stopped just above an old metal face plate covering the hole left by a pipe from the wood stove and when she stepped closer she heard the crunch of a foot on fresh cinders. she removed the plate that he had recently removed and found rolled up rudiments of an angel and scraps of paper with fragments of prayers. and she remembered that they were hers. and then a note from Dmoll. she walked over to the bed and lay down and opened her eyes.
and at this same time two people, one opening a folder with a frayed tab, and the other turning pages to the last written entry in an old diary, both trying to understand the girl who was trying not to fall asleep.
the
diary
the case
file
the girl trying not to fall asleep
suicide:
to my mother without verbs
by daniela c'dura
a
bluejay
on another's nest
suddenly a circle
like papers in wind
at
the edge of a copse
a dandilion
loose collar
AIR AIR!!!
in
the corner
of this white room
a geranium
to a clay pot
inflected language
as
i
this for you
a warm pool
at my feet
ever wider
Location:
Black Mountain, NC
Father's Occupation: unknown
Mother's Occupation: Practical Nurse
Admittance: December 23, 1980
mute for d minor
whenever
at gesture
words prone
and i always
downwind
like dog
out
of breath
my words like fog
and dmoll without ears
my
arms outstretched
like broken twigs
and around you
the wind like
a fist and
in my eyes
you
ever
smaller
IME
January 17, 1981: Prof. Dr. William Younger
Notes on patient D. C'dura. I interviewed subject
at request of Dr. Murphy (Dept. of Amnesia) and have concluded that although
I had found no explicit symptioms, I have decided to administer a DSP (diagnostic
syndrome profile) in light of having detected a tendency to revert to angry
outbursts when attempting to explain reasons for her behavior. Having used
such phrases as who gives a fuck, what do you care,
why even bother, whatever and I might
as well be a zygote, I
believe that the patient may be in the preliminary stages of depression.
Addendum: The patient shows evidence of having a very high IQ, so I am suggesting
giving her the Binet test concurrent with the DSP.
To
Jesus
by Daniela C'Dura
jesus
who cares
i try and try
and you overlook this friction
otherwise,
be a good host
and give me
a dose
of
molybdenum
chromium
selenium
magnesium
formaldehyde
methyl sulfide
pyridoxine
(z) (z)-3,6-nonadien-1-ol
3-carboxy-5-hydroxy-1-p-sulfophenyl-4-p-sulfo- phenyl-azopyrazole trisodium
salt
(FD&C Yellow No. 5)
(oh yeah, Sunset Yellow)
and i take that to go
w/my sardine + loaf
IME
January 30, 1981: Prof. Dr. William Younger
Results of DSP: My office will forward the complete results to you under
separate cover. In the meantime I think it of importance to note the results
of Sec. 4 (1-23). I am basing them on the Mazmanian Mania-Depression Mood
Scale: Point 2:
Agitated loud: 2
1. Elevated mood, Inflated self esteem, Expansive
2. Apprehensive, Unwarranted optimism, Overconfident
3. Active, Verbally loud
4. Less need for sleep
and Point 8
Mild Depression: -2
1.
Looks sad, strong inferiority traits
2. Pessimistic
3. Avoids others, Minimal responses, Worried
4. Plays with hands or hair
5. Frequency somatic complaints
We suggest that, because we have found two opposing
tendencies, the patient should be under a regimen of a monocyclic aminoketone
and regular counselling. With negative results, be prepared to administer
valproate plus lithium, if required. At
present we do not suggest chemical treatment for Agitated Loud (MMDM Scale)
because of the patient's age.
Note to Dr. Regis: You are correct in your assessment
of the patient's IQ. We have scaled it between 138-142. During our post-test
meeting the patient spoke at great length about another patient, a Dmoll.
Regarding our conversation by phone, I believe that you are quite correct
in your own assesment that both this patient and Dmoll exhibit very similar
behavioral traits and their mutual dependency may be potentially destructive
and conclude in the one or the other's elevated sense of hoplessness. I
wish you the best of fortune in having both patients moved to your care.
and a fish has no eyelids but here i am blinking to stay awake as you
said trying to fight the mood trying to do its opposite but your own advice
you couldnt even follow it yourself when i was up you were down when i was
painting you were sleeping and when i was praying you were in the kitchen
trying to recruit the hungry all they wanted was food and why are you always
right giving advice as though it came from another world some cosmic conviction
ok i know you were there for me a lot but sometimes you werent and sometimes
when you were you werent and that you bastard and that was bad and sometimes
i think you planned it that way but you never to me that i helped you too
and i know that i did like the time i kept you from that suicide plan and
grandiose bullshit of opting out in the chapel with everyone watching jesus
you could be just silly not crazy not not even behaving in a way to
fall under a psychological category but damit just silly like a little boy
just silly like an adolescent dumb-ass kenny or rodney just silly not deserving
a name a category a diagnosis a treatment but maybe just sometimes what
i told you was right right accurate that just sometimes you should just
grow up and why am i using the past tense and with that she
walked over the cold wooden floor and sat at dmoll's desk and spread the
prayer fragments into a meaningful puzzel that became after an hour:
#1
oh god
you are so old
can i comb
the hairs on your chest
just once
show me how to
be wet + low
and if you
would do me
i would do you too
#2
dear god
why do you even ask
anymore
just do it and go
you used to love me
here and here
but you never loved me there
#3
what's the use jesus
you put it there
and it never fits
you name it
it points
it cries
it crawls back to where it was
and you never talk
and the other the one who who had just turned the page the hard one the
one who had murdered the one with regret and guilt who had brought her daughter
here and hovered over her who had said and said to her "you are as
smart as him but you have to see it yourself" and the other one the
one who knew he had made the right decision who knew that she now would
have to do the same who knew she would ween herself who knew it would be
sudden who knew it would be soon put down the file and the envelop he had
been holding all this time and glanced at the return address again, 2200
Jackson Hall, Chapel Hill on his way out of the room.
and it was later when the girl who was trying not to fall asleep was woken
by a ray of sun that had squinted itself through a slit in the rough shutter.
she walked to the sink and filled the coffee machine and turned it on. she
was still yawning when she pulled back the shutter. the heat of the morning
sun had crusted the thin panes and they refracted the light magnifying it
blinding her until she put her hands directly on the icy panes and waited
for her nerves to numb and the ice to give way. and slowly the floor became
wet and she was able to see through the glass and she thought that she had
to be feeling the same greeting that an animal rising from a long cold sleep
must feel when it leaves its burrow to gaze again onto an old new world.
| originally the asheville asylum series was to comprise 40 main paintings and one sculptural piece. together, they would portray living asheville residents from about 1975 to the present. those not sold would be cremated and urned--the ashes and urns would be offered for sale. however, as i began to add characters and tidbits of information that i have gleaned from correspondence, i have now decided to continue the asylum series for an additional 40 paintings. at present i do not know what shape this will take. so far 50 have been sold or destroyed. please consider concept, images and descriptions as copyrighted. please do not reproduce. i guarantee that items here are original and certify authenticity Dmoll415 |