anthropocentric lollipop boogie

i am not sure if it is law

    or simply, ritual

i would not be surprised if it was a bit of both

    . . . here, there are always (at least) two

what i know is this:

    the flag of the united states of america must be displayed 

- at all times - everywhere in the world

    with the stars to the left

as one perceives the flag of the united states of america

    from the front . . . wherever that is

my entire working life 
    i have believed there is a reason for this ritual

i do not know why

we market our reality & syndicate its profits
   constantly

repositioning stars 

    . . . segregating heaven

(plus)

thought of the day . . . 01.09.2021

for many years POTUSv45 has chosen to engage with the citizens of the united states by using social media

social media (in my opinion) is a platform that permits presentation with neither verification nor validation

the james s. brady press briefing room (converted in 1969 from an indoor pool & remodeled in 2005) exists as an option

it is a very interesting choice (in my opinion) for POTUSv45 to continue avoiding this option (especially after various social media platforms have chosen to deny POTUSv45 the permission to continue to make presentations with neither verification nor validation)

i am writing this note as a reminder to those who say POTUSv45 has been censored or worse, silenced

i am also including a map . . . hope this helps

 

ANOTHER UNWANTED OPINION

ANOTHER UNWANTED OPINION

        ... for bill withers

"here's what i think," i overheard at a bar one night
early april two thousand twenty

... risking my life (again) for human connection
in the midst of a plague

"i think they can not control one single thing

... the flow of information

the flow of human beings across boundaries

the fluctuation between classes affects all classes

... so many things ..."

somone interrupted from across the room, "you're an idiot!"

"i am not - i am drunk - there is a difference"

... then they continued

i stopped listening

& looked at the room

it was the first time i was outside of my apartment

for the passed six weeks i have been "quarantined"

& the person who resides above jumps

now, five or six times for at least half-an-hour

... every day

it was a pleasure to listen to something smooth

to be surrounded by wood - i like this place

i like to sit on its couches, recline & read in the middle of the day

watching the city drive by unobstructed

it is strange to the see the building across the street

through the windows on the facade

because the parking spaces are empty, during the day

they are, of course, still talking

... that is what they do

"there is a difference," they insisted

"here's what i think ..."

 interrupted by "number forty-six"

& that was me

i was gratefully spared
another beating

& went home
with my burger & shake
in a bag

to momma from the child you threw away & i later drowned

it has taken a while to find a memory i cherish

i have been trying for years to find one happy moment in that orange room, or the green room, or the yellow kitchen, or the pink & yellow bathroom

or the blue bathroom upstairs that was yours & yours alone

my room was wooden ... the ceilings were angled ... it was a good place for music

i remember you sitting on the orange & white couch in the room with one whole wall of cork & a panoramic view of a private golf course & a rose bush (these we never saw because the curtains never opened)

i remember the whole family watching this concert 
i remember you had tissues in your hand from a box with some complimentary pattern on it that adequately accompanied the encyclopedia set on the wood book shelf

you cried

i remember

i told amber & malia i had no good memories
i lied to them (again)

i have one & this is it

that was a good moment
& this is an amazing song

i miss you momma

erik

pajarito1 (por esto es que)

amo a esta persona
... solo a esta persona

y no amo con facilidad
... mi amor requiere tiempo y consideración
mi amor requiere respeto y admiración

mi amor no puede ser demostrado
... ni ganado por el cuerpo

mi amor no está impresionado
... ni disponible para comprar con dinero



soy un ser humano
... ven a mí como tal
ámame como ser humano

y abriré

y cuando abro (cuando estás dentro de mí)
... cuando me entrego a la idea de que me amas
cuando acepto esta idea como una verdad

y sentirlo en mi cuerpo
... y sé que es real

te amaré a cambio

pero ya sabes esto
porque - esto es - lo que haces

y es por eso que amo a esta persona
... por esto es que

te amo ...

#pajarito

inevitably long winded . . . (part one)

an acquaintance of mine recently asked me to contemplate why i no longer design lighting, production manage, stage manage, stagehand or participate in any way with the production of staged theatrical artistic events . . .

this query caught me off gaurd & while i have been dwelling on the question (in the quiet far too few moments when my mind is my own) i have yet to answer her . . .

this is my first attempt at putting the thoughts into words (words being the door through which i entered "the arts" in the first place thirty three years ago) . . . 

my first answer is the easiest one : money 

i do not mean to imply that there is no money in "the arts"

i do mean to infer a deep seated insistence that "knowing what one is worth" & "placing a monetary value" on that "worth" is something (in my experience) in "the arts" that is frowned upon

the phrases, "i am not being paid;" or, "i do this for the love of the art;" or, "the actors / dancers are not being paid;" or, "do not see it as a lack of funds view it instead as a challenge;" have been issued to me by several producers, directors, choreographers, executive directors, artistic directors & friends they are the phrases which pushed me on my journey away from "the arts"

this "answer" (as all answers inevitably do) leads to a longer list of topics & questions than i am willing to get into here (or at all for that matter) . . . 

i will say this again - money - is the easy answer 

my next thought is a tad more personal though still not "the answer" . . . i lost my "heart"

there is (based upon my experience) a requirement for a certain amount of "love," a certain "willingness to go above & beyond," to "call in favors," to "get it for free," to "work something out," to "do your magic" that i lost

losing whatever this "was" hindered my ability to "see" & as a lighting designer "seeing" is mandatory

i did not want to "black out" between scenes - i lost all interest in "building a cue that mimicks a sunset on the cyclorama," the thought of focusing one more down pool for the "dramatic effect" (read "ailey-esque") made me want to puke . . . 

when this "loss" began i found myself drinking, quite often (more than i should) & still recovering from the night before showing up hungover, smelling like the worn soles of a barback & actually sitting behind "the tech table" attempting to write the "ugliest cue imaginable" . . . 

i spiralled out of control, lost my job, my family, my self-respect, my drive, my ingenuity, my creativity, my self-worth, my ability to see color in the deepest shade of grey, my ability to see texture in the flattest landscape - in short, i lost me

i burned every bridge i could see & some i did not even know were there - i set fire to all around me & justified my arson by wallowing in self-pity for the next seven years

then an actual fire consumed everything i owned
& covered seventy percent of my body in second & third degree burns 

this event was the first event that shook me - not losing the aforementioned things - this one, that almost claimed me

to be clear - this "answer" is about "losing" whatever it was that was "me" that made me able to work thirty hours straight for little (if any) compensation that made me demand a moving light package in the nineties for an unknown dance company; to push for newer technologies instead of settling for the par-can backlights; that wanted three follow spots for a two person play . . . 

whatever it was (i realised laying in the hospital) was gone & i needed to let it go

so i did or so i told (& still do tell) myself

i ventured into it a few times - for friends - each time being called out for my lack of whatever it was they were used to seeing

i became formulaic predictable - bright washy & blue . . . 

i lost some good friends during this transition
. . . folk i still miss to this day

so, why have i continued to steer myself away from a life of theatrical production ??
what was lost ??  

i honestly do not know

i am just beginning to "see" this as it is

there will be more
but for now

i am stopping

6 june 2014

chelsea, nyc

greenpoint 09.20.2013

sitting on stoop

listening & watching children play

couples walking

hipsters on bikes

smelling freshly burnt pot waft down the street 

it is slightly windy

the sun hits magic johnson's building bouncing around all boogie woogie style (truly ugly building)

there is a man arguing with another man about dog poop & a woman in a mini-van parked in front of my apartment complaining, "i have not been this broke in a long time. i mean like, broke."

i am not going to miss greenpoint much

- not much at all . . . 

some green on this grey day . . .

another post from another site worth a read . . .


nyc environmental year in review (2012)



best
e

something different . . .

continuing a ritual i dabbled in while i wasted my time on facebook . . . here is a link to a tumblr.com page i think it well worth your time to peruse :

racialicious

happy new year

numb but thinking . . .

yesterday has me at the moment silent & equally aware i have been silent for a very long time . . .

Masochism . . .

in the constant quest to grasp the very personal concept of identity i have started to read "Masochism" (Zone Books, 1991) with an essay by Gilles Deleuze & "Venus in Furs" by Leopold von Sacher-Masoch . . .

a fascinating forward is all i have managed to read to date

so far, i am impressed