UNDERSTANDING BUTOH BECOMING OTHER: "And a Fresh Bloom Of the Rotting Lagoon’s Perfume"
UNDERSTANDING BUTOH BECOMING OTHER (SERIES) "A nd a Fresh Bloom Of the Rotting Lagoon’s Perfume" WRITTEN BY ARA FIG MMXXVI --- The small rotting wooden boat rests stagnant among the dense, choking flora of the lotus lagoon—a vessel trapped between water and rot. Inside its splintered hull the chalk-painted figure lies curled in a tight fetal preservation of decay, skin crusted with a drying layer of white gofun that splits along the contours of the body with every infinitesimal shudder. The cracks in the paste are not merely surface; they are pathways for the wet air to enter, for the fine grit of decaying plant matter to settle into the pores, for the body to begin its slow negotiation with the muck that surrounds it. The wood of the boat is water-swollen and collapsing; its ribs align with the skeletal curve of the performer trapped within it. Every breath presses the sternum against the soft, fibrous give of the rotten planks. The lower spine sinks into a thin film of b...