Deconstruction

"Am I being deconstructed?"

It is one of the questions Mariela has for me when I take the scarf off to inspect her neck where the hook is attached to the body.

I shake my head.

"Are you using me to figure out your state of mind?" is another one.

"I'm not using you. Not exactly. Well..... maybe it depends on how you look at it. I think that I'm making you into the best puppet you can be. And while I do that, I learn things about myself."

"Like what?"

"For instance, I've learned that I like to transport big projects into little settings. That way I can enjoy places I can't afford to visit frequently, or places that have been lost to the past. I remember the big meadow I made from plastic flowers a few years ago. It looked like the part of Germany where I grew up. Then there was the 100 stuffed rabbits project; I sewed a colony of bunnies because my mother gave away my favorite toy rabbit to another child. As for your place in the scheme of things, right now I'm interpreting a setting I've visited in British Columbia. It will be the backdrop for your tea with Dr. Steinfeld. There is a garden behind a big window and the room is full of flower pots. And you, my dear, will be the princess who reigns supreme in this little paradise."

She twirls and bows. Her hair flames.

"What else? What else did you learn from parading me around?"

"I enjoy bright yellow and royal blue together. I love red hair. I wish I could sing. I am impatient but try to persist. I have a wonderful time imagining different lives."

"Why do you need me for that? "

"You're my medium. Just like Madam X, the mannequin, was. Or Sammy Lucius Putnam, the frog. Isabelle, the toddler doll. Sunlit Cloud, the shaman. Tyana J LittleString, the traveling bear. I sort facts, eliminate old concepts, add new ideas through you. When I look at you I see the details of my life better than if I just sat and thought about them. It's like snipping myself apart and sewing tiny pieces of me into you, so they can grow and let you dream and live happily ever after.


"You ARE deconstructing."

I'm deconstructing ME. Not you.

She shakes her head. I notice the sadness in her eyes at the same time as her lips part into a slightly mocking grimace.


"Same thing."