I Want to be Johnny Depp

I want to be Johnny Depp. Period. No qualifiers, no “on the days I’m feeling wild.” No, I want to be Johnny Depp every moment. I want to walk as Johnny Depp, I want to scare people as Johnny Depp, I want to sleep as Johnny Depp. Not with, but as. I want to wear a dead crow on my head and beads to my naval over my bare chest. image

I don’t want to be a man, that’s not at all the point. I want to be me, female, but as Johnny Depp, not Juanita Depp, or Janice Depp. Johnny Depp. Totally.

I want talent that makes my teeth sharp and other people quail. I am the bow and arrow, they are the quiver. I want to step out of the ordinary and walk down city blocks in leather pants with ferret fur wrapped around my arms. I want to look out at the world through a mask of colors, eyes of a hawk, mouth as a line. Missing nothing.

I may not want to live off cactus juice but I would know that I have and that I could again if needed. I would have the paw or claw of my vision quest animal in a purple velvet bag held closed by a porcupine quill.

I want biceps that don’t show that I’ve ever been held by a man, I want freedom from having to please, needing to be pretty. Johnny Depp is all the pretty I need. I want to eat cuteness for lunch.

I want politeness to fall off behind me like old tin cans tied to a Model T. One clang per tin, and each gone forever. I want the Model T to fall off behind me, too. The wedding of niceness is over, my divorce from propriety finished. I won’t look back.

Not that I’ll ravish others, not that I’ll not abide by my code of what’s proper and just, a frontier justice nuanced by years of observation of the animal life of humans compared with wild gardens, sweet with compassion that is held in check by fatalism. But only I would know I had compassion, and I would do secret things to up the quotient of good in the world. And then walk silently on in my moccasins. I won’t look back.

Or maybe I’d just be the Mad Hatter, looney as a rainbow captured in a bell jar.

Or Sweeney Todd as a vegetarian, killing innocent broccoli.image

I want to be the Mad Hatter going into restaurants, a pirate going into business meetings, a maniac with scissors as hands going into the wilderness, and Tonto going into love affairs. Love me, love my dead crow. Humans fake a lot. My crow knows.

But I wouldn’t freak out at being larger than a house or smaller than a dope-smoking caterpillar. It would just be another day.

Yes, I want to be Johnny, crazy, but I’d have damn good beads, and my make-up would be stunning.

4 thoughts on “I Want to be Johnny Depp

  1. Delightful. Wise. Made me smile. I especially love the anger and desire to be free that’s struttin’ in it. Kudos to another wonderful Blog. Now, it makes me wonder what he’s really like.?

  2. Wow. I’m awed by the writing and carried away by the energy. And also by the strangeness, because the whole proposition is SO far from my own wildest imaginings. My image of J Depp is strangely sexless – though I guess that makes him available for androgyny. I found the love scenes between him & the female star in Chocolat, for example, completely lacking in chemistry. I looked up his filmography & he’s made 55 movies since 1984, of which I’ve only seen a handful: Benny and Joon & Gilbert Grape (yes, I like oddball movies), Don Juan, & Chocolat. And I see a lot of movies. Is there any guy whose body I’d like to inhabit? Not really. Or any other woman either. Which probably just means my imagination is constrained, but I do like the body I live in, & the life I live. And fabulous writing. Thx for the delight, sweet P!

    • Hari, and Mary and Dorree,

      I’m glad you enjoyed the post. Writing it was so much fun though I suppose what I really want is to be a shape shifter through Tonto, the Mad Hatter, et.al. Even as a child listening to the Lone Ranger on the radio, I thought Tonto was the more interesting character. Not who knew who the masked man was, but who knew what the silent man was?

Comments are closed.