Yesterday morning I woke up early to go to the Corpus Christi event in the park where several local parishes were converging for an outdoor mass. The point of the celebration was to affirm the literality of transubstantiation, since communion has started slipping into the realm of symbolism in a lot of people’s minds and the Vatican doesn’t like that. I really enjoy the pageantry of Catholicism and I will do anything for a look at the monstrance, the extremely fascinating luxury container for the holy wafer. It looks like something out of DAGON and in fact I wouldn’t be surprised if that story were meant to refer to Catholicism in some way, I’m sure Lovecraft hated Catholics as much as he hated everybody else.
At one point the homilist addressed the accusation that eucharistic adoration is a form of idolatry, an impression he corrected by reminding everyone that the eucharist is not a fetish object but the literal body of Christ: “We don’t worship a piece of bread!” (congregation laughs appreciatively) But I thought, why not? Even though I’m an outsider who can’t take communion, I find it easy to think about its meaning in a general way; like if you believe that there is some sort of generative superlayer to reality, which I’m learning that I kind of do, and if you think everything natural manifests from that, then it’s not so hard to think that food is divine. And I mean food is divine, it’s what perpetuates life. We SHOULD be treating food with reverence and respect, whether you believe in a spiritual lifeforce or only a chemical one. I’m often surprised that Christians are not hardcore ecologists by nature, if you believe that everything comes from God for humanity to steward, you should have a powerful feeling for your environment–but for whatever reason this is not a standard part of the package. After the park part we processed down the street, which had been closed off for the occasion, to St. Mary Star of the Sea (even more Dagonesque!), and this part was totally amazing. The church was packed to the gills with people from all different parishes and the organist was playing some absolutely demonic music that I had never heard the likes of. When the people sang, the whole place vibrated powerfully, and in a moment of silence an old italian lady started praying at the top of her lungs, startling everyone. It was an exciting thing to get caught up in.
After that my husband and I went to a bar around the corner to stalk the building owner, who is renting a couple of apartments on the upper floors. Unfortunately he wasn’t around but we got sucked into a conversation with a local who didn’t look like he would want anything to do with the likes of us, a gruff older Brooklynite who engaged us about our weird shared neighborhood for much longer than I meant to stay. I tried to take it as a good sign, like maybe we could put our “vibes” on the place by integrating with the regulars, at the same time that our associates have been recommending us to the owner as good future tenants. It would be amazing if we got in there, we could move almost our whole apartment by hand.
Then it was time to go to the film festival. The screenings I saw the day before were in a theater that is hip but not particularly luxe, which made me feel pretty relaxed about what I was going to have to do–but these screenings were in a VERY nice theater, the lines were huge and everyone was dressed to the nines, and I started to freak out a little bit. The staff rushed me through my instructions with such intensity, I was just praying I actually understood it all. One of the actors on my panel is this cult film goddess who is a terrific person in addition to being shockingly beautiful, and she showed up in this like fairy tale dress that accentuated her otherworldliness to absolutely ridiculous heights. She introduced herself to me and I just started blathering; I’m not attracted to women but she’s so beautiful it’s insane, it almost qualifies as a deformity. Looking into her face is just confusing. Many other people there were startlingly beautiful. The director of the movie I was there for is someone I had seen on screen many times, and I always perceived him to be kind of an ordinary nerd, but in person he was enormously charismatic and sharply dressed and groomed and he had fully transformed into fucking George Clooney or something, I almost wasn’t sure I had the right guy.
I also saw two other actresses-of-a-certain-age who looked so much better standing in front of me than they did in the movies I’d just seen them in, I honestly felt like I was tripping on acid. One of them was Alicia Silverstone, who sat in front of me at a different screening; she wore a highly reflective plastic tube dress and stiletto heels that were almost entirely transparent, and she had to be helped around by her entourage. The aforementioned actress I would be interviewing was also having a lot of trouble locomoting in her amazing Glenda the Good Witch getup, she too needed to be attended by aides. It occurred to me that maybe when your career is (in part) being extremely glamorous, you have to do these things that cripple you, you have to be strapped into these hobbling appliances and carried around to formal appearances. There is something fascinatingly morbid about this.
My panel was really great. I knew I was killing it. All my jokes landed with the audience and I got the film cast and crew in a really good place right away. It was late on the Sunday, the last screening of the festival, and everyone on and off the stage was exhausted until I wound them all up, which I consider a significant personal achievement. Everyone thanked me in this moving way and some stranger on the street told me I did a good job. I was aware that this was my introduction to quite a number of people, including several recognizably established folks who have certainly been vaguely aware of who I am and what I do, but now they’ve all seen me at full power and I could tell they’ll remember it.
When photos of the event started turning up, that was NOT so thrilling. I was a complete mess and I didn’t even know it until it was too late. It’s probably GOOD that I didn’t realize it earlier, when I couldn’t have done anything about it. I found myself looking in the mirror at home, where things seem not so bad somehow, and trying to match what I saw there to the person that everyone’s camera saw. It was pretty shocking, but I have to say that it wasn’t a complete downer. I had the feeling that I can see what I need to do, and that is positive in and of itself. I might not have even realized the degree to which I need to take better care of myself if this hadn’t happened, at least not for a while. Right now everything needs to change. My house needs to change, my state of employment needs to change, my body needs to change. If I can treat these things like hobbies, like projects I am authoring, rather than like obligations or fuckups I need to fix, then my chances of success are strong.
