Logs:Out of Context

Out of Context
Dramatis Personae Anahita, Joshua, Lumin
In Absentia	2024-06-30 "Not all those who wander are tourists."
Location <NYC> Chimaera Arts - Dumbo
This is just one of the many abandoned warehouses in DUMBO, and like many of them it has recently changed hands. Unlike most of those, however, it does not have some corporate developer's sign out front promising a transformation into luxury condominiums or a boutique shopping center or the latest concept restaurant. Instead it's marked by a piece of weathered but wildly colorful plywood propped up on a stack of broken pallets, which reads "Chimaera Art Space!" above "chimaera.org" in smaller letters. The warehouse is moderately large and decorated with graffiti art in various styles--some of it recognizable as the work of renowned local street artists. A pair of monstrous scrap metal sculptures, perhaps still works in progress, flank the entrance. The building itself has undergone significant renovation recently, complete with wiring, plumbing, and a modular partitioning system. The grounds, too, have been cleaned up, ramshackle fences torn down and rusting detritus removed in favor of reclaimed (and brilliantly repainted) outdoor furniture ringing an impressively engineered firepit. Unlike a lot of the events around the city, it doesn't actually look like a unicorn vomited all over Chimaera today. There's a shocking dearth of rainbow given it's a queer event during Pride weekend -- though the residual glitter that is ground into plenty of cracks around here is omnipresent anyway. The warehouse has been set up for a performance space; above the stage the large background has PRIDE (in rainbow paint) crossed out and below it, large and flame-wreathed, emblazoned: WRATH instead. Despite this fiery backdrop the actual performances have come from a string of local comedians, uproarious even if their sets skew heavily towards the outcast and angry end of the spectrum. The young Kanienʼkehá꞉ka woman on stage now is not getting quite as many laughs as her predecessor (a white trans man whose set leaned heavily into the trials of Being Queer); her scathing indictment of the tendencies of white queers landing well for some and veeeeeery awkwardly for those she's holding a mirror up to. Joshua may possibly be in that former group, but it's hard to say. It's hard to say if he was even here for the show -- he's only just recently wandered back in from outside (surprisingly dry despite the storm outside and his apparent lack of rain gear), and is slouching against a side wall now well back behind the actual audience crowd, looking extremely drab in his carpenter jeans, sturdy workboots, black tee shirt with a circled aleph printed in white on the chest, the only colorful thing on him the kippah on his head, embroidered bright in pink and black and green and white to look like a watermelon slice. He's got a beer in hand, finger tapping lightly against the side of the bottle. Joshua's eyes are turned towards the stage through the current bit, and though he does not laugh, there's a small twitch of his lips and quiet-sharp huff he lets out at the comedienne's animated expositing on white leftist gays who treat queerness like a get-out-of-racism-free card. His head shakes small, and he takes a long swig of his drink. Anahita has been here for a while, though not sitting down in the audience so much as circulating. She's wearing a mauve cropped blouse, a long fluttery wrap skirt in teal, and black-strapped sandals that are not actually Birkenstocks but have a similar energy, a silky red shayla draped around her shoulders. She's just picked up a fresh cider and continued her rounds, drifting up beside Joshua. She's also watching the comic, with only a small sidelong shift of eyes at Joshua's reaction. "What time is your set?" she asks, matter-of-factly. Lumin had wandered in from the storm earlier, who is still drenched—or at least their clothes are. They wear a pastel purple windbreaker, some soaked joggers, and some equally soaked sneakers. They don’t seem to mind much about this though, or seem to notice, from where they lean up against the wall nearby and are currently leaving a small damp mark. Their eyes dart over from the current set to where Joshua and Anahita are when they overhear her familiar voice, and their eyes light up in recognition. They wait a few moments, maybe for a pause in the comedians set, before quietly sliding a few feet down towards the two, not wanting to disturb those around them. They offer a wave, first to Anahita, “Hey- Anahita, right? From that time at Evolve, it’s good to see you again,” They say genuinely “I wasn’t sure I’d run into anybody I knew here.” They also offer a small wave to Joshua, “I don’t believe we’ve met though. Pleasure to meet you, I’m Lumin.” Joshua tips his chin up to Anahita. His mouth twitches again at her question, and his eyes flick quick to her and then back to the stage. "Pff. I look mad to you?" Does he? He certainly doesn't look happy, his expression a glum droop. He takes another swig from his beer, then tips its neck towards the stage. "S'Too soon. After her, these white --" He breaks off here, though, eyes drawn over to Lumin shortly before they actually speak. His eyes have gone just a little wider, for just a moment, before his chin jerks up again casually. "We haven't," he agrees. "Sup." Anahita studies Joshua and gives a noncommittal hum. "Maybe a little." She glances at the stage, then to the side of it. "I could ask the MC if they have a spot at the end. That would leave you time to get angrier." She catches Lumin glimmering at the edge of her vision and turns, bowing slightly. "It is good to see you again." Her eyes skip down Lumin and back up. "I hope you have been well. Are you enjoying the show?" Lumin stares at Joshua for probably a few moments too long, but at Anahita’s question they blink and break the stare. They look around, taking in the event space, the comedian on stage, and look back towards Anahita and Joshua, “I am.” They decide with a small smile, “I haven’t been to a comedian’s show in a long time—didn’t even know this was happening originally. I’m glad I stopped in.” They nod towards the stage, “Will we be seeing you up there?” They ask Anahita curiously, “I’d bet you have enough stories to fill the night—and then some.” Joshua's eyes fix back steadily on Lumin as they stare. His heavy brows raise; eyes reflexively dropping down as a hand lifts to brush absently against his shirt. He flicks his thumb slowly against one corner of the beer bottle wrapper, starting to peel just a little where his nail catches. His mouth twists to the side, and his gruff voice is dry. "She look mad to you?" Anahita raises her eyebrows and gives Lumin a bemused not-quite-smile. "I have stories enough, to be sure, but I am no comic." She tips her head slightly at Joshua. "Transforming anger into laughter is a very particular kind of magic, and this is a very particular way to express it." Then, looking back at that stage again, she asks absently, "What pain do you want to see transformed up there?" Lumin hums at Joshua’s question, “Hm…No. But I’ve come to learn people are sometimes extraordinarily good at hiding it. Or are required to…Or simply just have different ways of showing it.” They study the bottle in Joshua’s hand, eyes lingering on how he picks at the label. They shrug, “Who am I to assume?” They follow Anahita’s gaze to the stage again, watching. “I don’t believe I have that magic either.” They admit. They begin to idly fidget with the zipper of their jacket by their collar as they watch, “…I’m not sure.” They admit again to her question after a moment of thought. “I know I like to see others transform theirs though…which sounds like an awful thing to say out of context.” Their eyes dart up to the WRATH sign. “Sometimes It just seems a bit like a bottle that’s been waiting for a chance to pop. I imagine…it’s…maybe relaxing in a way?” They say. "Got stories, though. Only thing separating tragedy and comedy is timing." Joshua was starting to look back to the stage, but turns aside to look more squarely at Lumin. His thumb flicks once more at his bottle wrapper, and then squeezes down. The small pull of his mouth this time makes his face look even longer. "Sounds like a tourist." "I have rather poor timing." Anahita twirls the tassels of her scarf around and around and around. "One of my tragedies. I am not mad about it, though. People seek and find all sorts of things in such performances, on either end." She considers Lumin again from behind a draught of her cider, her expression unreadable. When she speaks again she sounds quizzical, but not unkind. "I find it hard to imagine coming here and not hearing something that resonates. If nothing else, you are yourself part of the context." The way Lumin’s mind seems to catch at Joshua’s words visibly appears in a suddenly stuttered motion of fidgeting. They take a second, “It does.” They admit, and look at Joshua, “That’s a…fantastic summary.” They say, as if they’ve just put something together themself. “I have found plenty of things that resonate, of course.” They idly tap their glass fingers against their arm, “And there’s been things I hadn’t recognized I was also feeling, until it was put into words.” They watch the stage, and tilt their head, “What is it you two would like to see? You both never said.” Joshua lowers his bottle slowly; his head hasn't moved but he somehow still very strongly gives the impression that he's done a double-take at Lumin's admission. He looks over to Anahita with a questioning you hear this? kind of lift of brows. "Wasn't a compliment," he ventures, tone still approximately as flat as it has been this whole conversation but a small questioning tilt of his head lending it a slightly more quizzical cast. He lifts his bottle and takes a long pull, and his brows have flattened back down when he drops his hand again. "Didn't," he agrees neutrally. "Neither did you." Anahita actually meets Joshua's eyes, if only fleetingly, her brows remaining firmly in the starting position. "It is good that you have learned something new about yourself. Among other things, this art is a way to reclaim the trauma of marginalization, and audience engagement is an integral part of that process." Her eyes defocus as she looks out over the crowd. "I want to see people finding themselves in laughter. Even when they are laughing at themselves. Maybe especially then. We shall see about the other things I'm looking for. But I have hope." She tips her head to angle a sidelong glance at Joshua just as expressive as her last one but touched with whimsy. "Not all those who wander are tourists." Lumin is quiet for a long time, thinking something over before speaking. “I’ve been feeling like a tourist in my own life for a long time now. Especially more recently.” Their tapping against their arm speeds up, slightly, “I believe that’s a sign that I need to make some changes.” They tilt their head towards Joshua, “Thank you, for pointing it out to me.” They say, genuinely. They smile lightly, and nod at Anahita, “Hopefully one day soon I’ll be able to grant that want, and be able to laugh at myself about it.” They shrug, “Maybe I’ll get you two laughing along with me.” Joshua huffs quiet, and shakes his head at Anahita. "S'New York. 'least fifty percent are, though." His beer is just about finished, a fact he seems to be sorely regretting when he lifts it again, this time only getting a tiny splash before the bottle is emptied. He grimaces, drops his hand back to his side. The bottle he was holding is gone from his hand, to where is not immediately apparent. He is still studying Lumin thoughtfully, and the very (very) slight curious inflection in his voice makes his words sound a little less critical than before. "... how do you change that?" The sharp puff of breath that escapes Anahita is something like a laugh. Despite this, she's warning Lumin, "I am a tough audience. My sense of humor is almost as poor as my sense of time." The curiosity chimes louder in her voice. "What has caused you feel more so, recently? I can think of quite a few potential reasons, but I cannot very well blame all adversity on the police state or the alien invasion." At the bottle’s disappearance, a squint of confusion crosses Lumin’s face. Their eyes dart down to Joshua’s hand. With a shake of their head, they’re drawn away from it, and laugh at Anahita’s words, “That does cover a large chunk of it, to be fair.” Their laughter fades. Then they sigh, or make the sound of one that resonates deep from their chest. It sounds filled with dread. Their face scrunches, “But uh…Specifically?” they ask with a wince, dancing around something. “It’s. Hm. I tried to visit my family recently.” They say, voice light. “Haven’t seen them in…a long time. I saw them but I just-couldn’t take the steps to interact. It felt…unfamiliar in a way it shouldn’t have.” “But I guess the difference between a tourist and a local would be the community…So meeting, sharing, helping, opening up with other people. Even those I barely know—let alone their names.” Their eyes look over to Joshua, and they raise their eyebrows a little, “I suppose that’s a start to changing it.” Joshua's brows lift -- surprised, this time -- and his expression softens as Lumin talks. His head bobs -- slow, thoughtful, acknowledging. "S'a start," he agrees, and he's certainly not smiling but he looks at least a few degrees farther away from frowning. "Hopefully community can help you, too." He's glancing towards the front as the MC announces the next act, and, "Wellp --" is all he says before disappearing to reappear just beside the stage. But then he's back -- just for a second. "-- s'Joshua. By the way." And, blip, he's gone again, though -- probably soon enough Lumin will see for themselves what he's here to transform, tonight.