Settling with the Dust
Emerging from the
confusion of traffic congestion and automobile exhaust, like life from the
primordial soup, some of Jack’s (at first light, later much darker) Creatures,
in what look like elaborate Mardi Gras costumes (all masked in feathers, wire
and beads,) mill about the smoked filled kitchen section of his Greene Street
loft, lounge on the sofa and eat peanut butter just like regular folk.
The contrast here is very low: the images seem conjured from the woodstove smoke itself, coaxed into being by the craftiest of destitute masters.
A nurse helps keep the fans at bay with a whip until one of them pulls Jack’s favorite curved dagger from concealment in her black silk jacket, and he is forced to intercede, if only to adjust the trajectory of the blade.