How to Become Faye Wong
Carolyn Tung
Italicized lines taken from various lyrics in Faye Wong's discography.
I.
Sing & play; nap on the moon; dust on cosmic blush. Bounce around in this kitty cyberspace, this psychic femininity: BABY! I LOVE YOUR EYES BUT DON’T LOOK INTO MINE (MY GOD! HO MY GOD! OH MY GOD!)
II.
Know that “diva” in Chinese means Empress of Heaven. When in the mortal realm, do whatever you want. (Is it camp to shit in a squat toilet for love?)
III.
Dye your hair pink and flash some strangers; frolic in the fields, holding the hand of a teddy bear; press chewed gum onto Grim Reaper’s back. It’s 1993. Don’t break my heart, Mr. Deng.
IV.
Abandon bumpkin mainland and indigenize into cosmopolitan colony. Give in and leave the little self in the motherland. Hello, Shirley. Goodbye, Fei.
V.
(It is said that 1999 is the end of the world…)
VI.
Like a river dragon egg, bob through domino waters. Like karmic chicken dung wedged between your fingers, stretch the self—for what is a body but a thing made into still life, soaking the world’s mercurial paint—for what is bone china but the sister of broken glass kilned back together with its infinite faces.
VII.
(Only a little solider.)
VIII.
Recall your past lives: planet rings crushed like crayons & gas echoing into primordial nomad. Rainbow bubbles that have lost their compass, swimming away. Three little piggies, paddling a bamboo boat to find their new names.
IX.
On & on!
Sing & play; nap on the moon; dust on cosmic blush. Bounce around in this kitty cyberspace, this psychic femininity: BABY! I LOVE YOUR EYES BUT DON’T LOOK INTO MINE (MY GOD! HO MY GOD! OH MY GOD!)
II.
Know that “diva” in Chinese means Empress of Heaven. When in the mortal realm, do whatever you want. (Is it camp to shit in a squat toilet for love?)
III.
Dye your hair pink and flash some strangers; frolic in the fields, holding the hand of a teddy bear; press chewed gum onto Grim Reaper’s back. It’s 1993. Don’t break my heart, Mr. Deng.
IV.
Abandon bumpkin mainland and indigenize into cosmopolitan colony. Give in and leave the little self in the motherland. Hello, Shirley. Goodbye, Fei.
V.
(It is said that 1999 is the end of the world…)
VI.
Like a river dragon egg, bob through domino waters. Like karmic chicken dung wedged between your fingers, stretch the self—for what is a body but a thing made into still life, soaking the world’s mercurial paint—for what is bone china but the sister of broken glass kilned back together with its infinite faces.
VII.
(Only a little solider.)
VIII.
Recall your past lives: planet rings crushed like crayons & gas echoing into primordial nomad. Rainbow bubbles that have lost their compass, swimming away. Three little piggies, paddling a bamboo boat to find their new names.
IX.
On & on!