DWELLING The Novel - Chapter THIRTY-ONE: A Little Spark + DWELLING TO FEATURE IN The Crypto Renaissance!
The gate to the fire escape sat wide open, the blinds all the way up. Daylight spilled in through Dorian's living room windows.
"How long have you been painting?" Mioko asked.
"Forever."
Mioko sat cross-legged on a chair in the center of Dorian's makeshift studio. Deeply focused, Dorian sat ten feet away, his eyes either pressed an inch or two from the canvas or looking over to appraise the shadows and highlights around Mioko's form.
"I remember that show you had over at Gropius a few years ago."
"Oh yeah?"
"That was kind of a big thing, right?"
"Sort of, yeah," he said, hoping it didn't sound too much like false modesty.
But it HAD been kind of a big thing. The biggest thing in Dorian's life. He'd gotten more mileage out of that one show than the dozen others before it combined.
"This city, man. It's addictive." Mioko said. "A little spark, and then suddenly--"
Then suddenly a lengthy silent dud, Dorian remembered. An aching void of false promise that continued to fester and expand until it encompassed his entire being.
But he didn't want to let the darkness get the better of him now. Not today.
"Yeah, life down here's like a cheap novel." Dorian said.
"I moved downtown over twenty years ago." Mioko said. "This place was a disaster. You couldn't tell the droves of decaying Bowery boys from the genuine rotting corpses. Shit, now you can barely park a Mini Cooper on Chrystie Street."
Dorian squirted out another blob of red paint. He loved her salty edge. It was exactly the reason he'd asked her to sit. The more he looked, the more he felt she really did have a ramshackle beauty, unique to this time and place, but with a pleasingly repellant quality hidden underneath. She was a perfect set of contrary forces, striking yet somehow menacing. The more he looked, the stronger he felt it. She was perfect.
"It's unbelievable what people go through in a single day in this town." Mioko said. "This month I went from a dead end job, assisting an impossible prima donna of a photographer assassinate the final boundaries of fashion photography, to finally catching a break so I can try my own hand at it."
"Can you shift your chin up?"
Mioko looked up for him.
"We live in this city with so many people around us all the time, cramped sidewalks, stuffed in elevators. And we're so detached, you know?"
Dorian scraped the light around windows with a palette knife. Mioko took a sip of her mint tea, wishing he’d offered one of his dusty bottles.
"Although sometimes being crammed in a subway car's the best part of my day."
"How's that?"
Mioko looked down, she was suddenly feeling a little shy, wishing she could have taken it back.
"No reason."
"Come on."
Mioko bit her lip.
"Sometimes..."
Careful, she told herself, this man was not to be trusted. Everything she knew enforced that. But it was too late. Her lips were still moving independent of her control.
"...when I'm on the subway and... I don't know, well maybe someone lightly brushes up against me by accident or something. It feels nice."
Dorian began to work on her eyes. He knew better than to look directly at her. Let her take the lead. The more she felt in control, the more she'd want to reveal.
"Nice, how?" he asked, casually from behind the canvas.
"Just nice."
He liked the way she was getting embarrassed, but still somehow managed to retain her badass edge.
"I don't know. I can't describe it. That one little moment of human contact. You can't help it from happening, and yet rather than pull away, you let your leg stay where it is for a second."
"Sounds sexy."
Her beautiful, morose eyes began to take shape on the canvas.
"Yeah... I guess so."
He leaned out and smiled at her, hoping it didn't seem calculated.
They sat quietly for a moment looking at each other, both comfortable for the first time. Dorian relaxed his palette knife, he knew he could have her. But he worried that it would hurt the work. And he needed to succeed in this new direction more than anything. Or all would be lost. He’d have no other choice than to Bourdain himself with a bathrobe belt. He was surprised, he realized, that the painting took precedent over getting his willy waxed. Was this what finally growing up felt like? Dorian quickly distracted himself by picking up a nearby joint.
"Do you mind?"
Mioko, gave him a little half smile and a head shake.
"Right. Course you don't mind," he said. "You sold it to me."
Dorian lit up the joint with three quick puffs to get the cherry going. He savored the smoke for a minute then looked back at Mioko, her eyes locked on him.
"You want some?"
She shrugged. He knew she did.
"It’s ok. You can move a little," Dorian smiled softly and handed her the joint. She concentrated on the spliff as she hauled, reassuring herself that it was fair game because the blackout was still on.
The severed synapsis and rapid-fire new connections brought on by the smoke reminded Dorian of the rest of the work. A Lower East Side web of endearment, strung through repulsion.
"Hey, you remember Old Sal, down the hall from you?"
"Sure. Of course." she said.
Of course she did, he thought, because she wasn't a heartless self-centered asshole. He couldn’t say the same.
"You know anything about what happened to him?"
"No. Do you?"
He recounted the gist of his conversation with Detective Razor Rozycki and his chat with Ndusen, which he realized really didn't amount to much. He liked the way she listened, though. She was a good listener. And the way she looked at him as he started working his way down her neck, pushing the brush into her first-rate décolletage.
She was a real woman. Her dark eyes. Her life experience. She wouldn't blow over in the wind like some of the little waifs he'd become accustomed to picking up.
"What about asking Moshe?"
"Axlerod?"
The thought hadn't occurred to him. The landlord was someone Dorian avoided at all costs, not for any particularly good reason, just because he always felt like he was doing something wrong when he was around the guy.
"I'd imagine he would have known the Agnellis since before Sal's wife passed. Probably forever."
"Huh."
Dorian chewed on that for a second. Reaching out was likely the right thing to do, it was just pain in the ass. Unless if maybe Axlerod had a picture of the old guy he could paint from. Then it might be worth the trouble. If no one ever figured out how the guy vanished, in a way it was like he was timeless. Hell, maybe Axlerod himself fit into the work somehow? Part of the fabric of the neighborhood. There was something to that, but he wasn't quite sure how he could work it in. He forced himself to concentrate on what he was working on now instead. Mioko. And what drew him to her in the first place.
"Can I ask you something?"
Mioko smiled. She felt happy for the first time in a long while. She liked the way his eyes moved from one of her spots to the next. And he was a lot friendlier than she'd ever imagined. She could see why all the young ladies fell over. He was undeniably a charmer with his palette knife and easy smile.
And maybe it was just the weed, but she was starting to feel safe, and somehow a lot more open to the new experience than she would have imagined. She could almost see something more with this guy. But if so, it would have to be a casual friendship at first, instead of some crazy passion fueled fiasco, like hitching a ride home with a band and finding herself on a cross-country road-trip ten years later. This time she needed to have her hands on the wheel. She couldn't remember the last time she'd allowed herself a thought like that.
"Yes. You can ask."
"It's about the subway feeling," he said.
Mioko laughed self-consciously.
"You're still stuck on that, huh?"
Dorian laughed back.
"I guess so," he said. He looked at her with his intense brown eyes. "Was it like that with that guy?"
"What guy?"
"That Rube guy. The one in the picture downstairs."
She imaged the band van slamming against the guardrail, her alternate self flying through the windshield.
"Excuse me?"
"Did you lightly brush up against him in the subway, or something?"
Mioko's expression melted.
"Why would you ask me that?"
Dorian put down his palette knife. He knew the work had made him overstep. He'd let himself get too excited. He'd completely lost prospective on how important the attraction element was. The seduction. He was falling from the delicate ladder he had so carefully assembled to get inside this woman's head, which in and of itself was much more important for the work than any of his stupid questions about the circumstances of her and Rube's relationship. He moved towards her. Extending his hand, he touched her cheek, hoping he hadn't completely botched the seduction.
"No reason. I'm sorry. Just forget I said it."
Dorian leaned forward and their lips met for an instant. Just as quickly, Mioko pulled away.
"No. I can't."
She climbed down from the chair and walked out the door.
Dorian watched her leave. Picking up the palette knife, he flipped it in his hand, mulling over what had just transpired. Then with a tinge of sadness, he scooped more paint onto the knife and got back to work before the feel of her completely dissolved away.
BEHIND THE KEYBOARD
I'm thrilled to announce that DWELLING will be featured of @sndbox's upcoming NYC exhibition:
The Crypto Renaissance: A Steem-Powered Exhibition in NYC.
@opheliafu's art and the book will have it's own room! Here's the floor plan...
So honored to be a part of this amazing exhibition. More on this very soon!
But you can check out the initial deets @sndbox.
And in terms of this week's chapter...
Losing perspective on what matters in a human interaction is one of my biggest issues. I get real transactional sometimes and then I feel alienated and gross. It’s so much more wonderful to live in a cooperative world than one driven by solo-achievement. That’s what I’m trying to teach my kids and trying to learn myself. I find it’s super helpful to work with characters that can tell us something about the way our own mind works. One of the many reasons I love writing.
Yours In The Chain,
Doug Karr
SPECIAL THANKS to my wife @zenmommas for years of support during the writing process, @ericvancewalton for his trailblazing, inspired collaboration and incredible guidance, @andrarchy for his mind blowing insight and friendship, @bakerchristopher for being an inspiration as a human artist and bro, @complexring for his brilliance and enthusiasm, Masie Cochran, Taylor Rankin and @elenamoore for their skillful help in editing the manuscript, and to @opheliafu for the fantastic illustrations she created exclusively for the novel's launch on Steemit and to Elena Megalos for her wonderful character illustrations. I’d also like to thank Eddie Boyce, Jamie Proctor, Katie Mustard, Alan Cumming, Danai Gurira, Stephan Nowecki, Ron Simons, Dave Scott, Alden Karr, Missy Chimovitz, my dad Andy Karr and late mother Wendy, and everyone else who helped lead me to this moment.
I am a Brooklyn based writer, film & commercial director, and crypto-enthusiast, my projects include @HardFork-series an upcoming narrative crypto-noir and my novel Dwelling will soon be premiering exclusively on Steemit, and you can check out more of my work at dougkarr.com, piefacepictures.com, and www.imdb.com/name/nm1512347
Please comment thoughtfully, up-vote and resteem and I'll gladly upvote your comments!
I guess some of the more manipulative people, even if you know you can't really trust them, can still make you feel safe - that's how they get you, I guess. But then Dorian just had to ask about the most awkward things to Mioko, breaking his spell. "Just forget it"... "I can't." Ouch.
Good writing as always, thanks for sharing!
Very true. It’s so clear though when you’re dealing with someone who’s not worried about their own ego and keeps it really clean. They don’t even need to cast a spell because they’re so genuine.
I really liked the interplay between the characters here. The brief glimpse of vulnerability with Mioko was very well done. She's one of my favorites. Another great read. In regard to..."How much fun is it to use the wrong hand? Not that much."....you did a much better job than I could've. My handwriting is nearly illegible with even my dominate hand. : )
Thanks so much brother!
'How much fun to use the wrong hand? Not that much'.
For a while ( i haven't tried it recently) I became quite good at writing backwards, when creating handwritten signs in window displays.
REDRUM... REDRUM... REDRUM
REDRUM!! That’s the best window display ever!
Congratulations, donating money is something big, you encourage others to do it.
Yeah, thanks! It’s a nice feeling to be contributing to an organization like Amnesty international with money made on a Blockchain from creative work!
Hi @dougkarr
How are you ?
Wow such a amazing drawing .
Beautiful art .
It's your own art ?
I love this art , i really like it .
Thanks for sharing @dougkarr
Upvote you .
Thanks @powerupme all the Dwelling chapter Illustrations are by the wonderful @opheliafu.
God bless you. https://steemit.com/@biblegateway
This is an interesting and well written chapter fill with intrigue and also curiosity to know more of what will happen in the next chapter. Really interesting chapter @dougkarr