Well, that definitely sounded like a mandate to me. So I jumped on it: Time for drag!
But whoa—wait a minute, I’m a girly girl—and this lesbo don’t wanna be no man. What to do? What to do? The answer? Hell-ohh—I’ve already been foretold the answer: Lean into my creativity.
So, I decided to impersonate the very being that many a drag queen aspires to be: a High Femme. And just like that—Snap!—I leapt into “The Bravery of Drag,” and quickly landed in Professor Bryant Mehay’s “Schule of Drag.” Little did I know that one week later—would you believe: o-n-e week later—I would be high-steppin’ up onto the stage at Hamburger Mary’s.
“How do you feel right now?” the professor wanted to know.
“I’m scared,” I told him. No, actually, I’m terrified.
And, right on cue, the professor asserted, “Look! You gotta be brave. GIRL, this is D-R-A-G!”
Therefore, as bravely as possible, I chose to lip-sync in Spanish. And once that decision was made, she who is that Divine Dove who swoops and dives into many a Spanish tune and aria came flying into my consciousness—La Paloma. And, after that, the next thing that came to mind was that real-life Spanish dove of an operatic diva: La Paloma San Basilio.
I exclaimed to my higher self, “Perfecto! Si! Se Puede!”
I will per-Her-form me/myself/and I: Catalina (my name in Spanish).
Si! Si! Yes, I will be: La Paloma Santa Catalina. And I will sing: “No llores por mi, Argentina.”
And, then, once the “me/not me/me-wanna-be” began to emerge, I decided to be the very essence of la persona: Paloma. When I broke down crying, for me and for Argentina, the deal was clinched.
“Let your eyes lead the way!” Professor Mehay taught us on the very first day.
Made plenty’a sense to me. Are the eyes not the windows to the soul, and is it not the very essence of the soul that I wanted to portray?
“Which part of your body are you going to lead with?” Professor Mehay now wanted to know.
All I could think was, well, actually, I want to lead with my mouth. But I don’t think that’s what he meant.
So I said, “With my shoulders and—like many a drag queen—with my titties.”
But, secretly, deep down, I really wanted to lead with my heart, mi corazón.
“And what is your path?”
Hunh? Wha-at? What … path??
“What is your P-A-T-H through this piece?”
Myself, I wanted to move from being sad—after all,ya’know, “Don’t cry for me, Argentina” is a sad story an’ all, but I wanted to move from sad to Busting-Out Brave!
He had just said, “You gotta be brave. Get fierce. Even ferocious!”
So, my question for my Highest Self became:
Great Goddess! How do I capture ferociously the spirit of an operatic diva? What does it mean to be this highest of femmes—this Ul-tra High Femme?? So many questions. So much to take in. So little time.
“Practice! Practice! Practice!” Professor Mehay did say.
But when? W-H-E-N?
I gotta go find a diva dress, take it apart, and then sew the top part onto another damn diva dress. Next, I gotta go find some diamond rings (a girly-girl’s best friend.) And silver slippers?? Off to Mile High Thrift I had to race. Now, what to do with my HAIR? Ahhh … figure that out later. And then the Ul-tra-Most Important on the List of Things To Do: MAKE-UP!
“Hurry! You’ve only got three hours!”
And I’m tellin’ya, this Divine Make-Believe Doll-Diva did, indeed, need copious amounts of make-up.
First: Highlight your cheekbones! Second: Shadow your jaw!
“Follow a line from the bottom of your ear to the corner of your mouth.”
Huh? Now, what in the hell is that professor even talk’n’a’bout?? And plus, I’m also now supposta slap on fake eyelashes?
No, Absolutely Not! I, My-Highest-Self, I do n-o-t do anything f-a-k-e.
Did that professor not say, “Be authentic!?”
And so, I say to myself, “Now: I’m done, finished, right?”
“No!”
“No?? Now, whatthefunkelse?”
Oh Right: Glitter! Here, there, and everywhere; lots and Lottsa’Glitter.
And—Voila!—Mira!—Now you see me, all of spark-ah-lee me: La Paloma Santa Glitterati Catalina!
But do you hear me? Por favor, I beg of you, please hear my plea: “No llores por mi.”
And why not, you might ask. Because: “mi alma está contigo.”
You have only to look deeply into my eyes: “Mira a mis ojos como lloran de a-m-o-r para tí.”
Yes! Oh Yes! Si! Se Puede! Feel my soul, believe me: “Te-ne-ces-si-to!” Photo by Ivy Owens
