I call this collaborative piece, "The Shower Story"
(an integral part of this piece is that it was told in story form multiple times at multiple bars by the artists)
It (debatably) begins with a conversation:
Setting: car, night, on the way to an after party, both intoxicated, Julia is definitely more intoxicated
Tall and skinny artist who will be referred to here on out as 'The Muse'-
"Julia, can we be completely honest with each other?"
Julia Claire Wallace (frightened)-
" I guess."
"I just saw this movie, there was this woman and she was on top of the man and she says,
'If I fuck you I will hate myself in the morning'
and he says,
'That doesn't really matter to me.'
And that, Julia, is how I feel about you. "
Julia Claire Wallace is surprised, annoyed, and wishing she could write this down to decipher when no longer intoxicated.
After Party is attended.
The party is uncomfortable for Julia Claire Wallace due to the lack of her usual female friends as well as glimpses of angry conversations that seem to be revolved around her as well as the strange and bothersome conversation that had occurred earlier.
It becomes apparent that the movie The Muse has seen was The Darjeeling Limited so Julia Claire Wallace makes a mental note to see it the next day.
As people leave the party The Muse calls Julia's attention to a small easel in the corner. He collects various writing utensils from the vicinity. A broken pencil. A blue ballpoint pen. An orange and red crayon. The artists begin to create. They draw circles and lines. They draw with fervor. It is an intense experience for both participants, and they declare the outcome amazing. At this time a self proclaimed authority figure asks them to leave, so they decide to continue the art making at the apartment of The Muse.
The Muse pulls out a very large piece of cardboard. He collects pastels and charcoal and pencils and they begin creating a magnificent art piece. Sweeping lines and circles and tiny tracings. They create with a fever, barely speaking. They only touch once, when The Muse presses a black piece of charcoal into her fingers and grasps the green piece of charcoal from her hand in exchange. She doesn't look at him, she just draws.
He brings paint out. They are covered in paint and colorful dust.
One masterpiece and one semi-masterpiece. They stare at the paintings. She feels amazed at their genius.
It is freezing outside, it is raining. It is 6am.
"You can stay here if you take a shower."
The Muse's bed is white, a white cloud of comfortable. When one lays upon it, there is thirty more seconds of slowly floating downward into a soft resting place.
Julia Claire Wallace begrudgingly agrees to the deal, due to a certain hesitance concerning taking off her clothes.
She waits for The Muse to take his shower. She waits on a giant beanbag in his living room in front of a heater, staring off into space listening to a CD player skipping. It played the same 15 second line over and over for his 20 minute shower.
Finally, The Muse comes out with his towel and she asks in a small whiny voice if he has another towel, and if she should borrow clothes. She walks into the bathroom, and The Muse takes the towel from his own body and hands it to her, and she sees him naked. The bathroom door closes as much as it closes. The Muse's bathroom door does not have the capability of closing fully.
Julia Claire Wallace takes off her shirt. She is not wearing a bra today, and it feels wonderful to take off her shirt and stretch her naked body. She continues undressing and climbs into the warm shower smiling, because it everything feels so good.
At one point during the shower, as she is washing in between her ass cheeks, she looks out of the cloudy transparency of the shower curtain and she sees a figure. Julia Claire Wallace is frightened to death, but then realizes it is simply the shape of some clothes hanging on the door.
After the shower, she dries with The Muse's damp towel and puts on a few articles of clothing. She takes the clothing that she has decided not to put on once more to her purse in the dining room. She does not see The Muse. She returns to the bathroom area and notices a small, hastily written note on the floor. It reads,
Had to go. Enjoy your stay.
Julia Claire Wallace laughs. She looks outside into the freezing, 7am rain outside. She shakes her head in amazement.
She ponders going home, but one look at the fluffy cloud of bed makes her stay. As she lies down in the midst of the fluffy poofs of white, down comforter she makes sure to fully appreciate how much nicer it was that the entire bed is her own for the night.
She has a lazy morning in The Muse's apartment. She reads a couple of pages of the book she had just lent him. She watched an episode of MASH.
(But it should be noted: The abruptness of The Muse is a thorn in the side of her enjoyment, because she feels that it was a little mean spirited. )
She decides she is in the mood for a nice hot bath. As she lays in his bathtub, with the beautiful sound of November rain in the background, she reaches her hand down to pleasure herself. She leans her head back and fills his apartment with moans, with the happiness she was giving herself. She has multiple orgasms in The Muse's bath tub.
She roams around The Muse's apartment for awhile, stealing some of his paper to write out some of her annoyance concerning the conversation of the night before and the abrupt disappearance of her fellow artist. She looks through some of his things.
She takes an unsealed envelope of secrets that she once sent him in the mail and burns it over their painting, then places the remains into a box of wheat thins in his trash can, but she keeps a small portion of the envelope for herself. (This is the tragic demise of The Secrets Performance).
Before leaving she decides that she must leave a note. She leaves one next to the bed concerning the conversation, but this note is not worth mentioning.
Then she takes a piece of paper, and tears it down to the size of a plaque. She inscribes the plaque with the following:
This is the bathtub of the artist, known as The Muse. Although it is famous for another reason. It is rumoured that famous artist and autoeroticist Julia Claire Wallace once masturbated here on a cold and rainy afternoon in the November of 2007.
She placed the plaque in the bathtub, then she left the apartment, with a spring in her step.