You can tell a lot about someone through how they react to a situation. Yes when shit hits the fan that is when you can sus a person.
The Sweltering Mexican heat dries out the moisture of the unfinished house. She expected the place to be finished when her friend offered to her to stay unaccompanied there, but it wasn’t. There was a mouldy mattress on the floor, unpainted walls and unfinished rooms in the windowless barred up trap. Just about ‘un’ everything. There was no working toilet, and water could only be found down 400 hundreds steps in a well. But she made do. She got a local man to get her a mattress. And she painted. She created art throughout the day letting the heat dry every stroke as quickly as they had time to seep into canvas. The windowless-ness of house allowed the mountain air to pass through it and create a tunnel of cold familiarity to a Viennese woman. Months she spent in this half-American Half-Mexican town ; its only claim to fame was being featured in ‘The Night of The Iguana’ . She of course took residence up north in the Mexican quarters tirelessly creating pieces of Art for an exhibition .Flurries of Papers and notes spread across the plain floors all with ideas all with inspiration. She would spend hours consumed in creating.She spent days of effort. She spent weeks in preparation.
And life being the dickhead it was sent something to really say ‘Fuck you’ . And in this un-everything town what an artist needs the most to have an ‘un’ come before it is PAPER EATING MOTHS. Yes, what life should have maybe not done if it wasn’t such an arse is send swarms, literal clouds of paper-eating fucking moths into the windowless un-shuttered house of an artist with piles of art everywhere ; and life should especially not pull this shit before a looming deadline.
And all the lone Viennese women had as a warning was seeing the mother fuckers fly through Mismaloya straight towards her shithole. She was officially fucked. Life had officially checkmated her. Life: 1 Brie: 0
But then under the pressure Brie found a spring. She managed to find plastic from all over the place and layed it on top of nearly everything and as she ran desperately covering every sketch and piece in the large unfinished house with packets of food , bubble wrap as the swarms came towards her door. Out of breathe she sat in the corner hoping for it to work , closing her eyeas and covering her ears. She covered nearly all of it. The large moths came through and searched all over her house as she sat in fear…
After what seemed like hours they had left. She opened her eyes. There where casualties : of course but on the most it was okay. She had fucking done it. When life had five jacks in hand she slipped her hands in to the deck and made herself a full house (of course the analogy makes no sense , I don’t gamble.)
When shit hits the fan; Brie she solves it.
Part II coming tomorrow . A story about me.