Saturday, December 15, 2018
Sunday, November 4, 2018
It was unusually rough in the time leading up to this trip to New York though. There was certainly some energy agains us at the beginning. I felt absolutely miserable about going. For no identifiable reason. Hugo was overly anxious about his show, and just before our departure, sure enough, our bad feelings about everything manifested. But once we were on the ground and jumping into the work that thing- that force wanned into the background, it's teeth blunted.
Hopefully, it got what it all that it wanted... A small sacrifice to the What-Evers for something much better?
There are already signs of better things to come. Hugo was offered another shot at showing in Miami. That means in a few short weeks we will be back on the east coast looking out indifferently at more palm trees. Oh, and installing a mural framed video projection. There might also be some, you know, huge art fairs happening too.
Staying the month in New York wasn't all just to hang out like a tourist. I made it a point reconnected with my visual arts community. Got quite a few modeling gigs lined up for myself. It was an interesting thing to do. Certainly a test for myself. I was uncertain how I would react to the reactions of others about my scars. Turns out, it was an affirming experience all around.
Here are some jotted notes from one of my more adventurous days which had me traveling from one end of Brooklyn to the other and then across Manhattan and further, across state lines to New Jersey.
Oh be calm my over-excited heart. Last minute changes in the plan have me more scrambling than I would like. Another stop was added to my journey out to East New York, Brooklyn. I will have my hair and makeup done! This helps me feel the positive aspects of anxiousness.
How-the-hell-ever- I got shite for sleep. The internet went down so I can't quadruple check where I am going. I have to back pack everything along with me because I don't know how what sort of delays to expects and I have another job in the evening. In New Jersey...
I gasp at the day light. The L train has done above ground. I haven't been out this way in so very long. Out beyond Aberdeen. Probably one of the very few people in the area right now who's actually been to the original Aberdeen. Or the first York for that matter.
I am the only one in the subway car for a few stops. The heavy human flows goes the other way at this time of day. I wish I had brought my music. That would have helped me stay calm. Calm-ish. Next stop is mine. Deep breath...
Anxiety be hanged. Today was a wonderful day. OK, my false eyelashes didn't survive the entire time, and I had no way of touching up all the foundation on my face, but what ever. I rocked false eyelashes. For the first time in ever. I am grateful that people have been so kind to me - seemingly ever the newbie, me. I didn't know what to expect when showing off these scars to people I don't know so well.
There is a small satisfaction to be had in being able to cross state lines of one's own accord by navigating the various forms of available public transportation. I remembered most of the way. I did not get lost. And, maybe most impressive of all, I was on time.
Men on the night train. A PATH taking them to Manhattan metro station connections.
A cookie made of so much plant protein limps through my system. I am so weary and I feel... good.
Christopher Street- Where all those guys go? Is it?
I am the Aquafina water bottle left on the seat next to me; rolling and sloshing; less than half full.
Sleep please do your thing when I land in the bed that is my bed for tonight.
I do apologize for that.
I was just thrilled to be able to get all the work. I did take time to visit with family see some art exhibits and was taken on a mad dash at the last minute to see a banging punk rock band- The Bobby Lees. I can't even tell you when I'd last seen a good live punk band at this point. So I kinda fell in love with these guys.
Not seeing everyone and not getting around as much as I wanted doesn't upset me terribly. It does make my brain think toward another visit. One sooner than three years from now, eh?
Guys, help me make it happen!
Thursday, June 7, 2018
Thursday, April 19, 2018
Before I got all my stitches removed, I hauled my butt over to-
even more warm weather, sunshine, palm trees, ocean, and Spanish.
I took my DFSP adventure time all the way to Miami, Fla.
We time traveled twice over: moving three hours ahead plus an hour for daylight savings time.
So during that first week, I was simply feeling magical! -as said with a great amount of sarcasm.
I didn't know how quickly I would feel ready for doing anything.
Before this trip, I was barely recovered of the vampiric drain on my life force from two weeks of- oh hey, I have an open hole in my chest!
(None of you are ready to see those pictures.)
It took so long to get closed up because I don't live close to decent labs. They needed time to ship samples out and run detailed tests. And I had to get cut twice. In the first procedure they made a 6x7cm hole. In the second procedure they took out everything down to the muscle. Just to be certain there were no more defective cells left in the area.
FYI: We are all pretty certain I am free of this cancer.
When I got my graft installed, they also sewed something on to me.
They called it a cap.
I called it my reward for opening a puzzle box.
(Go watch a Hellraiser movie to learn more about this important pop culture reference.)
This cap took tension off the graft stitches and held it down/in place. A completely new realm of discomfort was opened up to me. As you can imagine, I was very happy to have that thing clipped off.
The cap experience still wasn't as bad as the wound cleaning experience. That was the highest level of pain I think I'd ever experienced in my life.
Spurred by the adrenaline of being in new environments and meeting new people, I was able to keep up. Mostly.
We were tickled to find a moka pot in our apartment's kitchen. We used to have one in Williamsburg, you see.
Guess what souvenir came back to Rosarito with us?! No, no. We didn't steal it. We bought our own! Because moka pots are not common out west for some reason?
(Now I can sit here for hours driving myself crazy tweaking this post while sipping a double espresso!)
Our apartment, a spartan, little place, perfect for an artist residency, was located in Wynwood.
It's a neighborhood hiding under extensive (excessive?) amounts of graffiti murals and street art.
Everything hip is located in Wynwood. Like 16oz juice blends that cost 10+usd.
Above & Beyond: Common Grounds Miami electronic dance music festival was located in Wynwood.
Yes, we attended such a thing. Wearing ear plugs.
I was very disinclined to dance. After three dj stumbling through the same format of soundbites, enough was enough. The dude-bros' sets really sucked rude objects.
Apparently, there is a prescribed mode of festival dress you must wear when you attend an edm festival. It looked like all the pictures of Burning Man with a sprinkle of Coachella except 200% less glamorous and/or inventive. I saw bandanas worn over faces. Were they expecting a sandstorm?
Yes, music festivals really happened just across the street. Yes, I lost a lot of sleep to two weekends of beats. There was also a loud, bright and early Sunday morning Christian youth event that added insult to injury after the previous night's revelries cleared out in the wee hours.
One evening was truly unbearable. The concert was pretty good, but the sound systems in the cars that parked nearby almost killed us. The overlapping bass lines rattled the walls and our brains. Bros all wanted to hang out and show off their systems or whatever. Ugh.
Interestingly, a security detail was assigned to stand watch over the residency apartment building through those long, noisy nights.
Zak the Baker is located in Wynwood. I wanted to work there when I saw how much fun everyone was allowed to have. It was the happiest bakery I'd ever been in.
(EAT THE CARBS)
I could walk up a few blocks and see several large scale Anselm Kiefer installations in the Margulies Collection at The Warehouse. Because it's located in Wynwood. I really, really enjoyed his work in that space.
The doctor told me that I would be able to take out my remaining stitches within the second week of the trip.
My stitches were left in Wynwood. Are they hip?
During my stay in Miami, my strength increased from not being able to carry my own bag to doing a little, silly improv movement at the studio space three weeks later. Here's an edit of it.
this is the first edit of video i took of myself during my last night at the MANA Miami artist residency at 777 International Mall. audio provided by local artists.
palm tree created out of junked fiberglass boats during the residency by Chicago based creative agency & production house, Ava Grey Designs.
Junk writing aside, much of the residency I spent the time sketching in a blank book that says SKETCH on the cover.
(Hey, I was just doing what it told me to do.)
It had been a while since I'd felt the freedom to just sketch. No pressure... Pencil... Everything erasable... My mind wandered in and around the healing process. A bit Frida-ish of me, but whatever. I came up with some kinda funny/poetic/quirky ideas.
The Human put more presentable, finished ideas all over the walls of his space on the second floor of this shopping mall turned artist studio spaces.
On the first floor there was a room set up to screen Tijuana Bible no.1 and then also a couple of In Memoriams. It was the first time we had seen the videos en large in a focused context. It gave us good ideas for a future project.
I met artists from Chicago also in the residency: Erin, Jan, and a couple of the guys from Ava Grey, Cesar (sp?) and Nick.
From the studio's location we could walk to a Whole Foods where I ate as many purple fruits and veggies as I could find at the salad bar. Purple. Instinctively I went to the deep colored foods. To match the graft on my chest, I suppose. At the time it was a bruise colored patch.
That patch looks more like a blaster mark now.
I miss those purple salads.
Fueled with Cuban coffee, we walked as much as possible. The city is in building mode. Expansive empty lots dot the city scape. Tall buildings at every stage of construction loomed here and there. Modern's the name of the game. Or rather, it's just that other M word- money.
It might be quite the international hub, but Miami isn't my kind of vibe at the moment. For me to live there I'd need a good reason. A really good reason.
If you love people and people watching, I recommend paying a visit. Just don't love the people too much. Posters are everywhere warning about the dangers of syphilis.