The Obsidian King
Written by Arturo Lucía, a transvestite alter ego invented by Laura Huertas Millán. Commissioned by Raimundas Malasauskas, under the name Edward & Otto Pfaff, for Spike Art Quaterly, issue #50 WINTER 2017.
It was the day of Lilly Wachowski’s coming out. We sat at this very same table, ready for the morning to unfold, opening the daily sendings with small talk smoothly installing itself as a third in our company, or maybe a pet. Somehow our verbal articulation wasn’t as fluid as it tends to be, while we incessantly repeated the very same gestures we’ve had since childhood, going through their declensions like painters in search of the primal sweep of the brush. We were wondering about Lilly and the mirroring of our story in that of the illustrious Wachowski sisters, and what it would be like if one of us became more of the other.
The black raven crashed into the studio through the open skylight. It had injured its tail and had a wound in its wing. At first petrified, Edward finally tried to approach the animal, locking himself into a state of cerebral concussion. The raven stood up – and gravity was unbearable, like for a kid wishing to walk and clumsily falling. Ed was coming closer, smoothly, flexing his fingers. “Ed... ,” I whispered, raising my hand in apprehension. And suddenly he was holding it, imprisoned in his hands, this obsidian skyfalling king.
The following events were trivial, and I had to wait for the meaning of this scene to be delicately revealed ... have you noticed those stains on old photographs that suddenly acquire the shape of a ghost? Another spectre was involved, and she rang our doorbell later on, on one of the days we were not travelling. She rang and asked for Ed. She hadn’t changed since college, still looked as if she had landed from a faraway place, with dark, fierce eyes that made you wonder if she was one of those queens who transform people into salt statues with a single glance. We invited her in, and all the time that had passed between that moment and our previous encounter became obvious as she entered with her nonchalant gait and intense energy, like a panther stepping into a henhouse – our tastily but modestly decorated lounge.
And soon we were having drinks and Ed was playing his best records for her, carefully taking each vinyl out from its envelope as if he was showing her a precious herbarium from a rare expedition. Doriane looks older, I told myself, and more obscure. She still had this touching sensuality, a cashmere scent, the sound of leather rubbing. Ed was unbelievably hyperactive – she was there to see him.
To order Spike Art Quaterly, issu #50 WINTER 2017
With contributions by Bruce Hainley, Dominikus Müller, Alison M. Gingeras, Dean Kissick, Michael Hardt, Nina Power, Nicolaus Schafhausen, Aki Sasamoto, Aaron Moulton, Daniel Baumann, Felix Bernstein, Jamieson Webster und Chiara Bottici, and many more.