Roberta Hinds – Five Images

The Theater

Photo collage, August 2010

I had a huge magnificent theater, with a long and wonderful history of success. It was beautiful, and typically filled with wonderful audiences, and wonderful plays, but I was focused on trying to keep control of the audience. There was a complication: The theater was actually an arc, like a Noah’s Arc, an immense vessel in the form of a theater, to get us all through a hard time comfortably. The audience consisted of all the creatures of the earth, sitting in their seats in rows, and typically all the animals were courteous and well behaved while they watched the plays. The only problem we ever had was with the snakes. The snakes, sooner or later, would get restless and, on-purpose or unintentionally, would slither out of their seats and wander off. Then we would have to go searching for them, gather them up, and coil them each up, and put them back in their seats. We had to do that over and over again. Otherwise, everything was really fine.

The Dead Dragon

Photo collage, August 2011

I was lying face down in the dirt, unconscious. I slowly regained my senses, and found myself battered, wounded, and covered with dirt, but still alive. I raised my head and tried to look around me, but had trouble focusing and could not make sense of what I saw. At first, I thought I was looking at the outline of some strange mountain range, but then realized it was the body of an immense dragon, lying dead and sprawled out upon the ground. There were people in little earth-moving vehicles, trying to cover it up with dirt. I stood and walked closer, still stunned and amazed, but needing to see more, to get a better perspective. There was a hill against the dragon, and I climbed the hill to be able to look down at the body from above. When I got to a good viewing place, to my horror, I felt the ground beneath my feet begin to slip, and a small avalanche swept me down the hill toward the dragon’s body. I was hysterical with fear, scrambling backwards amid the sliding dirt. I didn’t know how long the dragon had been dead, or what kinds of great open wounds it might have, or how decomposed it might be. Was it possible I would sink through rotted flesh and fall inside its body and be trapped there to die? Then I hit something solid and stopped falling. I had landed safely inside a deep depression on the dragon’s side, but it was filled with the dragon’s blood.

The Swimming Pool

Photo collage, August 2011

I lived inside an empty swimming pool. My faithful dog, Parchie, lived on the edge of the pool and kept an eye on me, so I felt safe. On the bottom of the pool, I had a tall bed. It was built entirely out of books, and was very comfortable. There were no other furnishings but I was content . . . Then something scary happened and I called the dog, but he did not come. Finally I went looking for him and was able to track him to an art gallery showing an exhibition of contemporary Chinese paintings. Someone at the gallery told me Parchie had been there earlier with friends, but had gone off to sulk, because he had just lost a bet.

The Dying Boy

Photo collage, September 2010

I struggled up a road, on foot, carrying a baby, a little boy. He was very ill and I was desperate to save his life. Two little girls with sad faces came with me and clung to my skirt. All around us, happy-looking men in recreational costumes played at sports. I cried out “Help, help. My son is dying. My son is dying.” But they ignored me. Finally I reached the top of the hill and dropped to my knees beside a pool of water, a spring. Still crying out for help, I began washing the baby boy in the water, hoping he would get better but, instead of healing, his little body began to dissolve. It was pale, looked like unbaked bread dough, disintegrating, and drifting away in the stream, while I cried out for help, “My son is dying! My son is dying!” and all the men around ignored me, ignored us, and went on playing at their sports, as if we did not exist at all.

Obama’s Nap

Photo collage, September 2010

I was working as an assistant to the President of the United States. He was in his office, getting ready to take a nap in a lounge chair. Michelle Obama was also going to take a nap. I could see her through an open door in the adjoining room. As he settled down, the President gave me a list of new things that needed to be done. Then he sat up again forcefully, and sternly told me there was one more thing that needed to be done that wasn’t on the list yet. He told me that I needed to lose weight. Then he sat back down again and relaxed.

Copyright 2011: All work contained herein is protected by copyright. Neither words nor images may be used, copied, transmitted or reproduced in whole or in part in any form nor may they or any part thereof be stored in a retrieval system of any nature without written permission of the artist.