per1150-crimson

11:50 PM

Crimson & Rose:
Fire Dragons

words by
Lenore Weiss
photos by
Barbara Traub

She is the keeper of the flame, Crimson, connecting with a tradition that goes back thousands of years. The flame. Life. Sustanance. Dancing oon a roof, more of a urban patio, naked. Her beautiful artistÕs model body with a strength that speaks of a fertility goddess, the goddess of the flame. She appears with an urn of fire, something of a torch that is passed from country to country during the Olympic games. I think that this is my most symbolic connection with fire. And then there was the Firestorm of 1989 that devastated the Oakland Hills. The devastating aspect of the fire. The balance Crimson holds in her hand is the gift of life and destructions. She is Shiva. She becomes so many things to me, moving from the urn to a stalk of fire, placing her hand in the fire, "feel the fire," this sacrament of fire, she is the guardian of the fire, caressing her body with the flames. She sets her pubic hair burning, a ripple of fire across her chest, across her nipples and I think it takes a tremendous amount of ctzpah to be standing in front of a crowd of people who have enough metal with all the body piercings amongst them and enough hip amongst them to roll down a Mac truck, to be dancing without a stitch of clothing in a night that seriously requires clothing. Thank you, Crimson, for making it possible. It was for all of us.

Will, I would have never guessed you were a photographer. I would've thought that you were more of a strongman in a show with chains across your chest. A strong man blowing plumes of fire into our circle. You offered for us to "feel the fire." It was the first time anyone every asked me if I wanted to do that. I think you must've finished all that 151 proof rum, a lot better than gasoline or other shit that can really ruin a fire dragon's body. You are the fire dragon.