I'm in a huge, mazelike house with a group of friends, mostly other women. We encounter tricks, illusions, tests. Some are psychological, emotional--and cut painfully deep. I expected challenges to our spatial skills, courage, cleverness, and magical talents, but not to have our friendships and trust shaken.

My friends are all human, but I'm not. I'm someone I've dreamed before--an adolescent lemur-girl called Gray, after the dove-gray color of my soft short pelt. I have a wolf tail, rangy coyote legs, green slit eyes, a long snout and tall pointed ears... I love being me! Just wish I could find someone like me. The right species.

But I both live the dream as Gray, AND draw our maze-adventures as a cartoon--at the same time! The doubleness is dizzying.

And when I slide out of the picture-frames and find myself drawing them, I'm quite different: older, male, more human-looking. But not human--I'm a sort of Greek satyr. I still have short fur, especially below the waist. I can tell, because I'm naked, as always--clothes are too confining, with my huge, perpetually erect phallus. It's the size of my forearm, not quite human shaped, and velvety with short fur.

What IS this, some tacky wish-fulfillment? Not MY wish! Since when is a giant penis fun? It's no more sensitive than a human penis, and it severely limits my partners--who can fit me in? Hardly any humans. Frustrating! Mares and cows are big enough, but I want someone to talk to, not just sexual release with an animal. I can't find any other satyrs or fauns--for I guess that's what I am.

Suddenly I see that these two selves, superficially so different, have similar frustrations: friends, but no love! Brief sexual encounters at most. But no lover--because we meet no one like me.

For the first time I wonder: "Why does my life-story go this way so consistently?" Neither version of me is ugly or cruel or stupid--why can't I find anyone right for me?

I look beyond the cartoon frames, beyond the drafting table, at the larger picture. And finally start to see... this pattern has a purpose! I'm being USED. Some powerful spirit is using me as a sensor, a camera, a field recorder! So I must stay single, unsatisfied--moving. A roving eye. And loneliness is the motivation.

I'm furious. I get NOTHING out of this deal! Treated as just an instrument.

I decide "I'll go on strike--or quit!" This is it. The end. I won't do it any more!

And wake again...

NOTES IN THE MORNING

• Satyr doing art: I have been drawing the most vivid of my dreams of being a lemurlike Fisher girl. I've worried my account is too sweet--fear it looks like bland wish-fulfillment. But is it? In that dream, I faced peer-group rejection, sexism, class issues (artists as primary producers), sexual frustration, cultural denial of my sexual orientation, a hard career choice, dishonest religious elders, ostracism...
• The giant penis = once I polled my college classmates: "When genetic engineering becomes practical, how will you change yourself? What do you want?" A guy who I saw as bright and sophisticated said "A two-foot cock!" and I asked amazed "But who would you fuck?" He blinked--never thought it through. I'd assumed my classmates were like me, just better socialized. When they acted dumb I figured I was just geeky. But "two-foot cock!" changed how I saw people! One eye still saw with my family's leftist egalitarianism, but the other now saw that even at the most alternative campus of the University of California, most folks had very conventional minds. My double vision lasted years--til I read Hollingworth's Children Above 180 IQ and learned how rare child prodigies are, and how different, and how much I'm like others in my IQ range. Much of my isolation was just... brains.
• The giant phallus limits possible mates = high intelligence limits possible mates! Normal people are frustrating. Lovable, nice to touch, but is that love? How do you share your inner life with someone who just can't follow you?
• I'm being used as an experience-collector = this feels true. Inside me lurks a side that's indifferent to pleasure or pain. And I'm not at all sure it's an intellectual part, either. Feels like a tough, scaly dragon-soul, only caring about hard spiritual lessons learned over lifetimes... and this life's for observation. I'm meant to be unobstructed, unvinvolved--seeing all, caring not at all. A camera.

I think it's time this camera went on strike.

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