Miss JadeFox lives.
A couple of weeks ago the earthSistas performed a theme at the Apache Cafe–posing for artists and photographers. VoodooChile. We each inhabited different incarnations of the woman of magic. We brought totems, masks, candles to allow ourselves to get into a trance.
On the back patio, in the cool night air, we dress each other, paint our bodies, as if the act of prepping was a ritual in itself. Wild Orchid covered in body in white paint which seems to speak of the dead. animal print drapes her breasts, orange head scarf adorns her hair, yellow fabric rests on her hips and her sex peeks out like power, like defiance. she is the African shaman, roots doctor, medicine woman. When she is transformed, a quick shudder runs through me. She looks straight up dangerous. If she bared her teeth, she’d be feral. It is intoxicating. I eagerly anticipated her moments on stage.
Out of the corner of my eye, I see Ororo pulling on jagged black fishnets over her firm thighs. She ties on a bright red hooded cape and lets her locs cascade onto her bare shoulders. She looks like some gothic witch, waiting to gobble up little boys and girls lost in the woods. Wicked. Ororo turns and smiles before reaching for a horned skull mask–and covers her sweet face. Just like Wild Orchid, Ororo is transformed. These are not women to be trifled with, as I can see the magic coursing through them both–the witch and the shaman.
Now it’s down to me. Since we are all so different in energies, we manifest the VoodooChile theme differently. I am feeling Marie Laveau– the great New Orleans voodoo queen– and all the powers of the delta creole. I use black and red: a black lace veil covering my face, a wreath of red and black lace around my hips like a tutu. I am feeling like zydeco music, the French Quarter, dance, and darkness. I express NOLA voodoo through my clothes and movement. I can divine for you. My garters are adorned with skulls. My yellow lips glow beneath the veil while the veil’s edge rest on my black halter bra. I am voodoo queen– the one that all of Louisiana and Mississippi adorn on floats, masquerade as, and leave offerings for in crypts and mausoleums during Mardi Gras. I can create in this form. I am feeling like I could enslave with a single glance. Hypnotic.
We are a triad, a coven, the three witches that frightened Macbeth, the three of power, the three of sensuality and beauty. Dangerous. Wicked. Hypnotic.
And then we stepped on stage.
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