Inside A Keyhole Between Two Roberts (#7)

My day after birthday post for you 💘

“Did I miss the 6th post? No. Today it’s a draft, as I’ve tossed out the order of things. Mercury is in retrograde until September 29th. … A thank you and welcome to new subscribers who patiently waited for me to write. So glad to have you 💐This is for you.

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Intro ⭐️ Script ⭐️ Featured Song ⭐️ Writer’s Notes ⭐️ Blooper

©️Juliette Cove

Intro: To Tell Me Twice

Beghad, it’s dusty! “Cough - cough” Drifting absent, I return. No midnight flight, no Kytherian prince marveled into my eyes, but a rat transformed the metaphorical horse. The pack rat, a recent gift from Tyche motivating in a most distressing way. As palace princess, I sound “abandon the land!”

Marie Kondo-ing¹ overdrive filled four large moving boxes on a sleepless night till I collapse napped. Up speaker wire the pack rat perched atop a chair distanced by bedside furnishings. Mutually stare locked, I screamed;  it squeaked into backflip. Jack in The Shining², broom and box, I went full out whack-a-mole into sunlight spilling crazy talk while two chihuahuas snored. CoCo glanced as to say, “still catching it?”

This was no drunk French Quarter rat bravely wandering to seat among revelers until scooped away to sober. The pack rat raced off chocolate espresso beans atop grinds lingering since my resignation from Java. Five coordinated removal of the rodent Harlem Globetrotter I named “Hammer.³” As a 12-inch torn vent hole welcoming Pandoras Insect Box into my bathroom was sealed, I day slept in Golden Gate Park Rose Garden. An expert declared, “This is all highly unusual behavior for a rat!”

Hammer caved to my toasty, grilled Asiago slice wrapped onto a trap plate, garnished with parsley. Exhausted, raking cheer, I shadow danced hanging on exercise straps.  A warehouse-style creativity room where all moves on casters miraged. Tyche, I trust, served for good reason. Carpets washed, more boxes sealed, and space reorganized illuminated Tyche’s Pack Rat was prescribed to jumpstart disregarding unknowns. I thanked her. Then a voice in my head spoke, “There’s another rat.”

On a floor pillow two nights later, I wrapped mirrors. Reflected equidistant between myself and the dogs, stood a poised, curled tail rat watching comfortably. “A rat!” Neither rodent nor defective chihuahua budged so I stood waving coyote style. Who I named “Squirrel” hid four nights in an isolated room, chewing holes under door frames, yet not touching a box. I opened exit for escape, though demise tolled via Laughing Cow cheese. SNAP! 10:52pm August 15th, my phone simultaneously sounded an iLuna⁴ notification. The moon entered an essence: “Achievement of desire. Increase. Benevolence.”

Frustration hooky cycling self-indulgent stuck summer vibes halted. All I want, imagine, and vision is for now! If such time spills to complete a relocation, then how many moons to find a significant other once there? - aside from the fictitious one. The one-stop, truli-match-zilla  for transplanting into creative residence, love found, and career flares all within driving distance isn’t advertised online. However, flaming coals thrown in all directions could prove repeat success cumulated near my last birthday. September is here. So, “yippee ki-yay!”

During this month of introspect and extra self love, I wrote reveals for a matchmaker. In describing another, an unnamed character formed. I tried to comprehend unswept “Sprinkles” found after cracking a concrete encasing of necessity. The “what went wrongs / rights” became dealbreaker guidance. And, how could I have not found “the architect of my dreams”⁵ via Guggenheim while stationed inside a giant keyhole between two Roberts:  Smithson and Mapplethorpe?⁶ Then a different matchmaker called. Perhaps an introduction through a hidden door may be the solution to change the “just say no” of sidewalk serendipity into a well informed “let’s go.”

I ask Tyche, surrounded with gifts, crystals, and my SAG-AFTRA card, insistent I above all pack, for the luck of new home, career collaborators, and romance to fall within my fingertips. Until then, I shall fall into fictitious romance beginning in the Guggenheim. As my colleague and friend Alicia Kenworthy, writer of Catalectic, has suggested I bring this story to screenplay, here I share my meeting and impromptu first date with who I name Tesson. According to Lydia, “He’s a sexy chewer.”

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Script: Lydia and Tesson meet, from the rough draft version

1. Inside the keyhole between two Roberts

Lydia seated, smiles pleased and heart warmed by two young European gents laughing at the Robert Smithson documentary projected in the dimmed Aye Simon Reading Room of the Guggenheim as the film shows a sequence of buildings in the Yuktan, each with one facade left intentionally incomplete, interiors exposed.

ENZO

(notices Lydia’s smile and turns to speak with her, though all he can do is laugh and outreach an arm of acknowledgment)

ALEX

(sees his buddy failing conversation and pats him three times on the shoulder, laughing, slightly shaking his head side to side)

LYDIA

(catches the giggle fever, then places a hand on her forehead nodding up and down, and stands to accompany their exit)
This is something my father would do if it held fair in the US.
(gently claps her hands twice, then stands)

ENZO

(still laughing)
How oppressive can Yucatan taxes be?
(tosses his hands up and continues to giggle)

LYDIA

(gesturing like Robert Smithson)
Trend sweeps a cultural landscape of good taste.… ( slight laugh) I was concerned to be the only one in this room randomly laughing. You both made my day.

ALEX

Does your father own a hotel?

LYDIA

No, he’s one in a family of residential builders who pioneered suburbs.

ENZO

Ah, my friend Alex and I are here for a graduate exchange program. We plan to partner a new architecture firm. … I’m Enzo.
(slightly bows in a gentlemanly manner without breaking eye contact)

LYDIA

Welcome to my keyhole …
(addressing both though focused on Enzo)

Distant view showing Lydia visible through the keyhole entry, enjoying conversation. sound of exhibition guests from this location are overheard (keyhole is too distant for hearing) 

Camera returns to the keyhole doorway as Alex and Enzo exit while Lydia escorts them out of the door.

LYDIA (CONT’D)

I’m Lydia … assigned to guide grads in topic and reference for thesis, or other publication. And you are my best visiting company yet, so please do not hesitate to pick my brain.
(leans her head out of the doorway, one hand holding onto the doorframe for balance, turning to the left corner - said with a smile)
Enjoy the orchids.
(pulls her head back inside, still in the doorway -said to herself, with an unconvinced jaded perception )
… and everything else beyond the turn of that wall.
(dismisses thought, into sudden observation)

Two second close up of Lydia noticing a gentleman in the distance staring directly at her. behind him is a video of a man smearing into makeup on his face (Ann Hamilton).

Camera moves forward toward Tesson as he stares solid for two seconds, on the third second he is in close up view and raises a smile toward one mouth corner and look of satisfaction in his eyes.

From tesson’s position Lydia is shown turning back into her keyhole.

Viewed from the keyhole entrance, tesson begins to walk toward the room, eyes focused.

CLose up of lydia seated looking for something on a bookmarked page.

TESSON

(standing in front of her, against the nearest curve opposite the table edge)
If I am to begin from here, which direction do you recommend? 

LYDIA

(she looks to take him in for a breath, he’s attractive with a refined artsy vibe, like a more modern version of Robert Smithson)
The path to the top holds a delightful exhibition narrative. If you … invest the time to understand and enjoy, without lingering on balloons… you will eventually find Jeff Koons.

TESSON

(intrigued)
And if I spiral down instead?

LYDIA

With all above, you may find way to the door if offended by Mapplethorpe who is tucked away in
(pointing / air tapping)
that dark corner, though I can council you into the elevator to the top.
(optimistic)
… Lest we forget the natural beauty of an orchid.

TESSON

Hmm, you must be the young lady from Harvard.

LYDIA

(baffled)
Why does everyone I meet here make that assumption?! - No-oo. - 
(humble, yet self confident)
I’m the young lady from School Of Visual Arts, and research librarian inside this keyhole between two Roberts.

TESSON

(amused)
Y-you got the job.
(glowing grin, slight nod, taps his finger on the table and turns away - then looks half way back to say)
Huh!
(then steps toward to exit)

LYDIA

Queue in “the walk-off” 

TESSON

(leans his head back into the doorway, one hand holding onto the doorframe for balance - said with a smile and finger pointing upward)
Oh no, I’m going for the top.
(resumes exit)

LYDIA

(exhales a gasp of air, smiles to herself, and drifts attention back to a research book)

Camera blurry fades shot via a closing vignette of marbled chestnut smoke to suggest both focus and losing track of time as the visitors exit the room

Focus on Hayden standing in the doorway, surrounded by smoky vignette 

HAYDEN

Lydia!

LYDIA

(gasps and turns her head quickly to the door, as the smoky vignette brightens in an instant)

HAYDEN

There is a Guggenheim Patron due a private tour of the exhibition. I thought you might like the opportunity to meet, and possibly schedule an evening in the coming week if you can manage it.

LYDIA

(brightens up)
Oh my! Yes! I WANT to host a tour outside of this keyhole. Of course! Thank you.

HAYDEN

Wonderful, you both should get along well. I’ll arrange an introduction. … And thank you… for defending the orchid so relentlessly.

LYDIA

(raises her eyeballs a bit higher staring)
Smoke and mirrors. Of the minds I’ve seen, we need not put pants on it, or the others. … Will you please tell our Patron ahead of time I am not the young lady from Harvard?
(holds a hopeful expression)

HAYDEN

(pulls her face toward her neck with pursed lips)
The Museum is now closed.
(turns her head to the side, then turns into exit)

LYDIA

(stands)
Why do they all walk away? 
(grabs her bag off the chair back and exits as a security guard turns to the doorway to check the room)

Beginning from across the street, camera zooming toward the door, Lydia reaches the sidewalk where the camera meets her for a closeup. Lydia’s arm reaches below the frame into her handbag and pulls out a protein bar, she begins to fiddle with the wrapper. The sudden rumble of a motorcycle distracts as she turns her head toward it.

From Lydia’s position, the camera shows Tesson on an impeccably polished, refined BMW motorcycle. Approaching her, he powerwalks the motorcycle a few steps closer to her - keeping the machine politely quieted.

TESSON

Pardon my manners, though I forgot to introduce myself. I’m Tesson.

LYDIA

I’m Lydia. … Do you come here often?

TESSON

(laughs)
Enough not to miss anything; I have membership.

LYDIA

And a bike rolled from the exhibition floor.

TESSON

(flattered, amused smile)
This is my restorative work, acquired on auction before I learned to ride. Call it my hobby kit. … Yeah, I much enjoyed Art Of The Motorcycle.

LYDIA

It was the year I moved to Manhattan.

TESSON

Would you care to ride with me? … and share something more delicious than that snack bar? I have thoughts.

LYDIA

(“hmm” … in thought)
… since you spiraled upward, I would trust you’ll take me in the best direction.

Camera above: Tesson’s hand opens toward Lydia, she places her hand in his 

he helps her onto the motorcycle and sets a helmet upon her, then situates himself

The engine sounds as Lydia’s hands slide above his hip, forward to wrap a grip around Tesson.

Camera view mid street just before the crosswalk: The motorcycle departs down the street, green lit stoplights glaring.

2. Love at first bite

In a dim lit room, brick wall behind him, close up on Tesson with a berry held between his lips, shifting its position with his tongue while gazing at Lydia. the wall is lined with a thin shelf holding a surround of votive candles.

closeup of Lydia, who holds a solid stare toward him, like she is both interested and waiting.

Closeup of Tesson: He raises a sudden grin, reaching from the mouth then into the eyes. 

Closeup on Tesson’s mouth: Slowly bites into the berry as to break the surface then closes his lips around it

Side view of table, There is one plate with a waffle dressed in a scatter of berries, a venue worker steps over 

MATT

(While placing a filled bowl on the table)
Excessive extra berries for two
(immediately walks off)

TESSON

(without breaking the stare upon Lydia)
Thanks, Matt.

still holding stare with Tesson, lydia picks up the bowl with both hands, then looks down

Overhead view, Lydia overturns the bowl of berries to create a mound over the waffle between them

LYDIA

I’ve always wanted to bury a waffle.
(a pleased fire within her eyes)

one by one, Tesson places five berries between his open lips and begins shifting them around with his tongue

Lydia adoringly smiles at Tesson’s participation 

Tesson slowly closes his mouth around the berries like a theater curtain, and crushes them with his tongue, barely chewing then swallows

Full View of the table, with eyes focused on Tesson Lydia cuts a corner piece of waffle. With the waffle piece on a fork in one hand, she reaches for a clear glass pourer of light maple syrup, raising it higher than her head and the fork of waffle up to the height of Tesson’s mouth. The finest stream of syrup begins to drip.

Camera focused toward the fork, showing the thin drip of syrup catching the light and hitting the waffle piece.

Table view: lydia begins moving the waffle and the syrup pourer toward Tesson, she rises slightly to carefully reach him. Tesson breathes out a bare laugh.

Camera zooms in as Tesson moves forward to the waffle piece, stream of syrup glistening and dripping past the waffle piece onto the fruit mound. He bites the waffle in the stream of syrup, as it drips over his lip. He leans forward slightly and and steals a kiss from Lydia.

Zooming close up of Lydia’s expression, blushing, with the syrup on her lip.

Close up Lydia’s mouth: lips parted, syrup on her lip catching the light. She pulls her lip inward as she licks away the syrup.

… and that’s all for now folks.

With many pages further into the story ahead, and a bit of revision, I hope you’ve enjoyed this bite-sized substack introduction to Lydia & Tesson. Truly of my heart, I most enjoy writing them. Oh, and if that matchmaker shows up with my Tesson, regardless of city, state, continent, boxes, or spreadsheets, I’m out of here! 💋Cheers.

(Rats were moved to the second date. 🐀🐀)

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Featured Song

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Thank you for reading 💘

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Writer’s Notes

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Blooper

Stay tuned for Incandescent Palace #8 when Yeet Skrt further interrupts Juliette’s finer moments. There’s no excuse to stay in bed and complain when the Yeet starts. So, what’s your favorite alarm ringtone?

1. My growth into a decluttered multi-faceted creative arts person has some Marie Kondo influence. Making space for present tense, I often pare down or store the temporarily inactive. New ideas need to space to breathe.

2. The Shining is a 1980 classic horror film based on the Stephen King novel. Jack (Jack Nicholson) is a writer who takes a job managing a remote hotel while closed for winter, falling under influence of a presence of madness.

3. Hammer Harrison is a Guinness Book of Record holding Harlem Globetrotter known for the “world's highest basketball bungee dunk from 855 feet in the air.” He also enjoys sky diving.

4. iLuna is my favorite mobile app for accurate astrological information. Aligned with the nature of waxing and waning cycles, my planning timepiece is the lunar calendar.

5. A young rabbi from my NY local asked, “well, if a fashion model is not the guy for you, then what type of person would you like to meet?” My response, “an architect,” was an equally absurd short answer to a hill of a question. I was in my 20s. (For the record the model gent is a nice person, though chemistry was a factor missing.)

6. For the Moving Pictures Exhibition (2002) in the Guggenheim Museum NYC, I was a research librarian in the Aye Simon Reading Room. The CA library lending system (for my local readers) has a copy of the publication featuring participating artists. Robert Mapplethorpe is not in it, though his work was in an adjacent dark corner. … FYI: I have a lifelong habit of reading art history books, and thoroughly enjoy arthouse film.