Honestly, I don't plan these things. (I'm speaking of my earlier post this morning). But I just received an email asking me to post the following.
It's a letter from Aubrey Sparks.
-------------
The Tony DeBlase Scholarship project is on the final lap. As the scholarship paperwork is getting organized, now and then I see the bigger picture. But there are times when it all feels too complex. One of the problems is that many do not understand that the The Pride Foundation is about vision and the future rather than the usual reaction. Even though some try to explain, still people tend not to trust the community. And why not? Some people think that the grants are received at the end of the ”GLBT and friends” parade. Likewise other people assume that all the money has been donated and the grants are only for gay men. Plus we are dealing with uncommon words, such as endowment. There has been a number of large issues around health problems. Sometimes it’s all too much and I become depressed. I had hoped that the election November 4th would give me a feeling of hope. Perhaps there will be a meteor falling from outer space, crash into the ground as the scholarship award is being granted to a student. Some days it just feels this way.
But I assume too much. There has been one man who has made a pledge of $5.00 monthly until the goal is achieved. Two other men have made a pledge of $25.00 monthly until it’s complete. Washington Mr. Leather 2004 Gene Romaine and his boys have been involved from the beginning and are committed until the very end. From Portland, Tobin Britton, Ms. Oregon State Leather 2001 and Blackout Leather Productions donated $939.57. From New York, Karen Taylor, Laura Antoniou and Lolita have donated. There have been gifts made in memory of Seattle’s Charly Baker from his family and in memory of Thom (Major) Martin in West Virginia. The Sisters of Perpetual Indulgence Inc. San Francisco Mother house donated as did the Imperial Sovereign Court of Seattle. With the help from these and so many others, we are nearing the endowment goal of $25,000, having raised $24,150.65. When the project is complete I will become selfish and play a lot more. But right now, it is more important to establish a scholarship for students entering the fields of sex education, sex therapy, research or something that furthers the understanding of human sexuality, especially alternative sexuality.
If you would like to participate with our friends, on Sunday November 7th 4-8 at The Eagle there is the Buzz Cuts, Boot Blacking, random raffles prizes and a $1 BBQ fundraiser . For $2 we will gladly burn a hot dog in someone’s name because it may help you feel better.
If you have any questions, there is now a discussion e-mail list on the scholarship project at www.leatherdaddy.com/scholarship.
Donations can be sent directly to Pride Foundation, 1122 East Pike Street #1001, Seattle WA 98122-3934. Please make checks or money orders payable to The Pride Foundation and be sure to clearly indicate that your donation is for The Tony DeBlase scholarship. You can also make a gift by phone with your credit card. Simply call the Pride office at: 800-735-7287 or 206-323-3318 and ask for Marie Gagnon in Development. The Pride Foundation is a community-based foundation working to strengthen our gay, lesbian, bisexual, transgender, and allied communities today and build an endowment for tomorrow. For more information about The Pride Foundation, visit the web site at www.pridefoundation.org.
It is my belief that in the long run, the impact of the scholarship will be of benefit to everyone. But at this time, to qualify to apply for a scholarship you will need to be a legal resident of one of the five states that The Pride Foundation services, regardless of where you do your studies or project. They are Alaska, Washington, Oregon, Idaho, and Montana. Since it is the first of its kind, I do hope that you will show support of the project as it is an investment in your future. If there are any other questions, please let me know.
You can get more information at www.leatherdaddy.com/scholarship.
Sincerely yours,
Aubrey H. Sparks
Friday, November 05, 2004
I've watched myself transition from grief into another state. It's not an out of control emotional anger yet a deep fierceness. Resolution. Determination.
Yesterday morning I resolved to immerse myself in my job. The day was spent processing donation after donation. With each one, I'd think about where the money would end up...grants to smaller queer organizations, some going to Montana and Idaho, struggling groups trying to fight for gay rights and social justice. Possibly an AIDS group in Alaska. Or maybe the dollars from another check would be funneled into scholarships for students who've spent a good part of their lives beaten down and bullied. I knew this money would morph into validation which energizes and strengthens the individual or group to change the world in their small way.
Speaking of scholarships, we have another BBQ, Boots and Buzzcut fundraiser this Sunday at the Seattle Eagle. Guess what? We only have $1,800 left to raise to make the $25,000 endowment for a scholarship for sex education. This is a solid spoke in my activist wheel. We plan on awarding the first Tony DeBlase Scholarship this April. Applications are out, and the deadline is mid January.
I resolve to take my personal projects to a new level. I'll be damned if some man-made pseudo twisted religious machine that thrives on greed and power instead of spirit will even begin to tell me what I can or can't paint. Where I can or can't show. What is or is not sex. I will not have a plastic, fuel guzzling, energy sapping monster decide my life for me, tell me when I can or can’t get fucked, get married, be and breathe. More importantly, it will NOT impose on each of us its own brand of morality. And we are called perverse?
In Hello, Uranus? Got Any Room? Must. Move. Away. Mark Morford writes:
"You cannot leave. You cannot drop the armor now. Why? Because you are needed, more than ever. You are mandatory to keep the energy flowing, the karmic vibrator buzzing, to keep the progressive and lucid half of the nation breathing and healthy and awake and ever reaching out to the half that's wallowing in fear and violence and homophobia and sexual dread, hoping to find harmony instead of cacophony, common ground instead of civil war, some sort of a shared love of a country so messy and internationally disrespected and openly confused its own president can't even speak the language."
The fire in my belly is burning hot.
Yesterday morning I resolved to immerse myself in my job. The day was spent processing donation after donation. With each one, I'd think about where the money would end up...grants to smaller queer organizations, some going to Montana and Idaho, struggling groups trying to fight for gay rights and social justice. Possibly an AIDS group in Alaska. Or maybe the dollars from another check would be funneled into scholarships for students who've spent a good part of their lives beaten down and bullied. I knew this money would morph into validation which energizes and strengthens the individual or group to change the world in their small way.
Speaking of scholarships, we have another BBQ, Boots and Buzzcut fundraiser this Sunday at the Seattle Eagle. Guess what? We only have $1,800 left to raise to make the $25,000 endowment for a scholarship for sex education. This is a solid spoke in my activist wheel. We plan on awarding the first Tony DeBlase Scholarship this April. Applications are out, and the deadline is mid January.
I resolve to take my personal projects to a new level. I'll be damned if some man-made pseudo twisted religious machine that thrives on greed and power instead of spirit will even begin to tell me what I can or can't paint. Where I can or can't show. What is or is not sex. I will not have a plastic, fuel guzzling, energy sapping monster decide my life for me, tell me when I can or can’t get fucked, get married, be and breathe. More importantly, it will NOT impose on each of us its own brand of morality. And we are called perverse?
In Hello, Uranus? Got Any Room? Must. Move. Away. Mark Morford writes:
"You cannot leave. You cannot drop the armor now. Why? Because you are needed, more than ever. You are mandatory to keep the energy flowing, the karmic vibrator buzzing, to keep the progressive and lucid half of the nation breathing and healthy and awake and ever reaching out to the half that's wallowing in fear and violence and homophobia and sexual dread, hoping to find harmony instead of cacophony, common ground instead of civil war, some sort of a shared love of a country so messy and internationally disrespected and openly confused its own president can't even speak the language."
The fire in my belly is burning hot.
Thursday, November 04, 2004
I just read a question in another blog that prompted my own question.
In Gassho, Jack asked:
"Has the election created community or divided it?"
I quickly responded, "Isn't it through division that community is created?"
Now I do believe that there needs to be, for lack of a better word and meant in the broadest sense, a common enemy to have a common goal. But I wonder if it's only through division. Can we create community without division?
Sometimes that division could be a lack of something that will band people together. So does lack constitute division?
How about this - Does community mean some type of division? Is there a way to get community without division?
I don't have any definitive answers just yet. These are brand new thoughts and I haven't had to chance to really dive in although I have a strong feeling where I'm leaning. My gut right now says community means division. I wonder if it's like light and dark. Yes and no. All different sides of the same coin. You can't have one without the other. Each part of a whole.
In Gassho, Jack asked:
"Has the election created community or divided it?"
I quickly responded, "Isn't it through division that community is created?"
Now I do believe that there needs to be, for lack of a better word and meant in the broadest sense, a common enemy to have a common goal. But I wonder if it's only through division. Can we create community without division?
Sometimes that division could be a lack of something that will band people together. So does lack constitute division?
How about this - Does community mean some type of division? Is there a way to get community without division?
I don't have any definitive answers just yet. These are brand new thoughts and I haven't had to chance to really dive in although I have a strong feeling where I'm leaning. My gut right now says community means division. I wonder if it's like light and dark. Yes and no. All different sides of the same coin. You can't have one without the other. Each part of a whole.
from Alternet -
The Unbearable Darkness of Being by Lakshmi Chaudhry, November 3, 2004.
Some excerpts:
"All the blame-mongering in the world can't erase the pain or, more importantly, the fear. My mind can handle the body blow of defeat, but it's the slow, seeping chill of dread that is harder to fend off."
"No, it's not about losing an election, but the fear of losing faith. Liberals have always believed that if we did everything right – got the truth out; got the people out – we would prevail. In the past, I could tell myself it was the wrong candidate, wrong strategy, wrong party – some reason why people didn't show up at the polls or vote for the "right" guy. Not any more."
"In the aftermath of the election, it feels like I've not just ceded my country, but also my self. I've become just one among the sea of anonymous losers whose concerns and issues are simply not relevant any more. In the space of a single night, I've become invisible."
"The weariness will pass. It must. And the faith will return. I hope. But for now, I mourn."
Thank you Lakshmi Chaudhry.
The Unbearable Darkness of Being by Lakshmi Chaudhry, November 3, 2004.
Some excerpts:
"All the blame-mongering in the world can't erase the pain or, more importantly, the fear. My mind can handle the body blow of defeat, but it's the slow, seeping chill of dread that is harder to fend off."
"No, it's not about losing an election, but the fear of losing faith. Liberals have always believed that if we did everything right – got the truth out; got the people out – we would prevail. In the past, I could tell myself it was the wrong candidate, wrong strategy, wrong party – some reason why people didn't show up at the polls or vote for the "right" guy. Not any more."
"In the aftermath of the election, it feels like I've not just ceded my country, but also my self. I've become just one among the sea of anonymous losers whose concerns and issues are simply not relevant any more. In the space of a single night, I've become invisible."
"The weariness will pass. It must. And the faith will return. I hope. But for now, I mourn."
Thank you Lakshmi Chaudhry.
Wednesday, November 03, 2004
The Day After
5 a.m. found me awake. Not being able to sleep any further, I got out of bed and checked the news. Stunned, I showered, dressed and decided to come into the office. At 6 am, it’s still dark outside. Other than my monitor, the only light I turned on was my little desk lamp. Sitting in the dark I finally allowed myself to cry. I hurt. Hurt something fierce because this election is a smack in the face reminder of how, from looking at the patches of red on the map, most of the country appears to be into a god who encourages a fear-based, hateful, discriminatory world. I wondered about the small, progressive pockets thrown into that large crimson area. I noticed where the patches of blue lay. I read about the 11 states that voted to ban same sex marriage.
A couple hours later a coworker showed up. He silently approached me. We hugged. I cried some more. Other coworkers came in, some dressed all in black. We had our staff meeting this morning and during personal check-ins folks shared their pain. Concentrating on work was tough. A few people asked me for mindless data entry so they could feel somewhat productive. I am blessed to work in the enviroment I do.
Our country is being run by a real class act. According to today’s Washington Post, last night.. " Rove and White House communications director Dan Bartlett angrily pushed television networks to declare Bush the winner.”
Lovely, eh?
The Advocate and the Washington Blade both reported that 1 in 5 gays voted for Bush. Are people aware of what they’ve done? Have they considered the Supreme Court positions that will be filled in the next four years? Can people see that most of what we are fighting for is on the line? What about Roe vs. Wade? What about censorship? I cannot understand how anyone who lives a somewhat marginalized life could have voted in the manner they did. It seems that they aren’t seeing the larger picture.
Yes I am taking this quite personally.
In the office we received an email from a former staff member. He made an interesting point how although Bush ran his campaign on fear and terror, the 3 hard hit areas on 9/11, NYC, D.C, and Pennsylvania, all voted for Kerry.
While walking the few short steps to work this morning I struggled to embrace a buddhist philosophy. I tried to let go. I attempted to gather some semblance of compassion for the other side. And then I remembered another buddhist principle which is to allow myself to be. This moment I hurt. I know it will change and I will regain the fire in my belly that allows me to continue in my work. But for now, right now, it hurts.
5 a.m. found me awake. Not being able to sleep any further, I got out of bed and checked the news. Stunned, I showered, dressed and decided to come into the office. At 6 am, it’s still dark outside. Other than my monitor, the only light I turned on was my little desk lamp. Sitting in the dark I finally allowed myself to cry. I hurt. Hurt something fierce because this election is a smack in the face reminder of how, from looking at the patches of red on the map, most of the country appears to be into a god who encourages a fear-based, hateful, discriminatory world. I wondered about the small, progressive pockets thrown into that large crimson area. I noticed where the patches of blue lay. I read about the 11 states that voted to ban same sex marriage.
A couple hours later a coworker showed up. He silently approached me. We hugged. I cried some more. Other coworkers came in, some dressed all in black. We had our staff meeting this morning and during personal check-ins folks shared their pain. Concentrating on work was tough. A few people asked me for mindless data entry so they could feel somewhat productive. I am blessed to work in the enviroment I do.
Our country is being run by a real class act. According to today’s Washington Post, last night.. " Rove and White House communications director Dan Bartlett angrily pushed television networks to declare Bush the winner.”
Lovely, eh?
The Advocate and the Washington Blade both reported that 1 in 5 gays voted for Bush. Are people aware of what they’ve done? Have they considered the Supreme Court positions that will be filled in the next four years? Can people see that most of what we are fighting for is on the line? What about Roe vs. Wade? What about censorship? I cannot understand how anyone who lives a somewhat marginalized life could have voted in the manner they did. It seems that they aren’t seeing the larger picture.
Yes I am taking this quite personally.
In the office we received an email from a former staff member. He made an interesting point how although Bush ran his campaign on fear and terror, the 3 hard hit areas on 9/11, NYC, D.C, and Pennsylvania, all voted for Kerry.
While walking the few short steps to work this morning I struggled to embrace a buddhist philosophy. I tried to let go. I attempted to gather some semblance of compassion for the other side. And then I remembered another buddhist principle which is to allow myself to be. This moment I hurt. I know it will change and I will regain the fire in my belly that allows me to continue in my work. But for now, right now, it hurts.
Today’s Rob Brezsny horoscope, Freewill Astrology, came with a new blurb on the homepage.
It says:
Rituals of Mourning
So our time of mourning begins. As every good psychotherapist recommends, we need to FEEL THE PAIN for a while--but not indefinitely. Maybe it'll be three days from now, or maybe three weeks. But sooner or later, we will have completely experienced the sadness of the ghastly calamity that has just unfolded. And then it will be time to rise up, steel our wills in the name of love, and resume the fight for beauty, truth, love, justice, and goodness.
Write and tell me the rituals of mourning you will carry out in the coming days. I'm at beautyandtruth@freewillastrology.com.
It says:
Rituals of Mourning
So our time of mourning begins. As every good psychotherapist recommends, we need to FEEL THE PAIN for a while--but not indefinitely. Maybe it'll be three days from now, or maybe three weeks. But sooner or later, we will have completely experienced the sadness of the ghastly calamity that has just unfolded. And then it will be time to rise up, steel our wills in the name of love, and resume the fight for beauty, truth, love, justice, and goodness.
Write and tell me the rituals of mourning you will carry out in the coming days. I'm at beautyandtruth@freewillastrology.com.
Due to network problems today, it's taken me about 5 hours to access my blogger edit page.
Before I can even begin to blog my thoughts, why don’t we hear what Mark Morford said in today’s column:
“You want to block it out. You want to rend your flesh and yank your hair and say no way in hell and lean out your window and scream into the Void and pray it will all be over soon, even though you know you're an atheist Buddhist Taoist Rosicrucian Zen Orgasmican and you don't normally pray to anything except maybe the gods of really exceptional sake and skin-tingling sex and maybe a few luminous transcendental deities that look remarkably like Jenna Jameson.”
I’ll be back later.
Before I can even begin to blog my thoughts, why don’t we hear what Mark Morford said in today’s column:
“You want to block it out. You want to rend your flesh and yank your hair and say no way in hell and lean out your window and scream into the Void and pray it will all be over soon, even though you know you're an atheist Buddhist Taoist Rosicrucian Zen Orgasmican and you don't normally pray to anything except maybe the gods of really exceptional sake and skin-tingling sex and maybe a few luminous transcendental deities that look remarkably like Jenna Jameson.”
I’ll be back later.
Tuesday, November 02, 2004
Interconnected.
This is sweet!
Thanks to The Padacia for showcasing the Zoom Quilt.
When you go to the Zoom Art site, if possible, click on the flash version. Pretty trippy.
This is sweet!
Thanks to The Padacia for showcasing the Zoom Quilt.
When you go to the Zoom Art site, if possible, click on the flash version. Pretty trippy.
Well...I headed out to the University Heights Community Center which was the volunteer staging ground for my zip code. It felt like command central. Loads of volunteers, signs and electric activity. By the time my turn came around, I was informed that a record number of volunteers had showed up and so my services for cab duty were no longer needed. I was thrilled that so many folks had engaged and bummed that I wouldn't be helping out. So I headed back to work and in spite of the fact that my head was elsewhere, miraculously I was productive.
Tonight, on my stoop, someone created a small still life of leaves. They placed it on the corner so it wouldn't be stepped on. Bright yellow and rust colored leaves. One vibrant red glowing leaf. And a stem from a fuschia plant with its vigorous magenta colored flowers. With our grey day and drops of rain still clinging to the leaves, it was a warm welcome to an anxious day. Thank you stranger.
A friend called me a little while ago and we shall head out to Septieme after they vote. I can't sit home in front of the t.v. It will be interesting to see what happens, eh?
Tonight, on my stoop, someone created a small still life of leaves. They placed it on the corner so it wouldn't be stepped on. Bright yellow and rust colored leaves. One vibrant red glowing leaf. And a stem from a fuschia plant with its vigorous magenta colored flowers. With our grey day and drops of rain still clinging to the leaves, it was a warm welcome to an anxious day. Thank you stranger.
A friend called me a little while ago and we shall head out to Septieme after they vote. I can't sit home in front of the t.v. It will be interesting to see what happens, eh?
Monday, November 01, 2004
Why oh why does it feel like I am spending more time blogging about computer problems in the last month than anything else?
Today it's the network in the office. We are in the process of changing phone and dsl lines. Of course all parties involved reassured us that nothing would go down during the switch. Alas it wasn't to be.
Since about noontime we've have nothing. No dsl, no email, nada, zip, nothing.
This morning I did email a few folks from my work addy. If you attempted to respond, I haven't a clue where it will end up. In the past, when the network goes down for a bit we do end up with emails missing in action, never again to be seen.
Feel free to forward those emails to: autre at graffiti dot net
Thanks!
I promise...one day...it won't be like this. All the computers, all the mail servers and all the networks will be running smoothly and all at the same time. Honest. :-)
Today it's the network in the office. We are in the process of changing phone and dsl lines. Of course all parties involved reassured us that nothing would go down during the switch. Alas it wasn't to be.
Since about noontime we've have nothing. No dsl, no email, nada, zip, nothing.
This morning I did email a few folks from my work addy. If you attempted to respond, I haven't a clue where it will end up. In the past, when the network goes down for a bit we do end up with emails missing in action, never again to be seen.
Feel free to forward those emails to: autre at graffiti dot net
Thanks!
I promise...one day...it won't be like this. All the computers, all the mail servers and all the networks will be running smoothly and all at the same time. Honest. :-)
From the AFL-CIO website, here is an interesting chart tracking job growth back to Truman.
By the way...don't forget to vote tomorrow!
If you can, help out at the polls. I've already informed my office that I won't be in because I'm giving rides to those who need assistance getting to the polls. For anyone in the Seattle area interested in volunteering, the number for the Kerry Campaign is: 866-353-2855.
By the way...don't forget to vote tomorrow!
If you can, help out at the polls. I've already informed my office that I won't be in because I'm giving rides to those who need assistance getting to the polls. For anyone in the Seattle area interested in volunteering, the number for the Kerry Campaign is: 866-353-2855.
Sunday, October 31, 2004
Talk about syncronicity!
Remember my post from Friday regarding my choice not to mass reproduce my paintings? I just read an interesting essay on Mona Lisa.
Tourists wait in crowds to catch a few second glimpse of what is known as the most famous painting in the world. It's become a mandatory stop of any Parisian visit. They don't even spend time with the paintings on the way to the daVinci painting, or time with the paintings beside it.
No thank you. I'll save my art for those who seek art instead of painted canvas that has become celebrity.
Here are some excerpts from the article in The Guardian, The Mona Lisa Experience:
"Waiting to see the Mona Lisa has all the thrill of standing in an airport check-in queue. The crowd pushes forward, cattle-like and unquestioning, performing a ritual they know they have to go through with in order to complete a pre-ordained tourist experience."
"You have to feel sorry for Salvator Rosa, whose pictures hang to the left and the right of the Mona Lisa. No one spares a glance for the enormous Heroic Battle, 1652, to the left, with its dramatic portrayal of carnage. There must have been a time when this would have been the more obvious crowd-gatherer, but a sequence of quite random events has transformed the Mona Lisa over the past century into a celebrity painting."
"Some visitors are quite open about their frustration. "The Mona Lisa is probably the single most disappointing piece of work in the entire world," Guy Kress, an experimental psychologist from California, says. "The picture everyone has in their minds is much larger and brighter." It is true that the poster reproduction in the museum shop is a much bolder image. With this fresh in your mind, the original looks dour and gloomy."
It's a damned shame.
Remember my post from Friday regarding my choice not to mass reproduce my paintings? I just read an interesting essay on Mona Lisa.
Tourists wait in crowds to catch a few second glimpse of what is known as the most famous painting in the world. It's become a mandatory stop of any Parisian visit. They don't even spend time with the paintings on the way to the daVinci painting, or time with the paintings beside it.
No thank you. I'll save my art for those who seek art instead of painted canvas that has become celebrity.
Here are some excerpts from the article in The Guardian, The Mona Lisa Experience:
"Waiting to see the Mona Lisa has all the thrill of standing in an airport check-in queue. The crowd pushes forward, cattle-like and unquestioning, performing a ritual they know they have to go through with in order to complete a pre-ordained tourist experience."
"You have to feel sorry for Salvator Rosa, whose pictures hang to the left and the right of the Mona Lisa. No one spares a glance for the enormous Heroic Battle, 1652, to the left, with its dramatic portrayal of carnage. There must have been a time when this would have been the more obvious crowd-gatherer, but a sequence of quite random events has transformed the Mona Lisa over the past century into a celebrity painting."
"Some visitors are quite open about their frustration. "The Mona Lisa is probably the single most disappointing piece of work in the entire world," Guy Kress, an experimental psychologist from California, says. "The picture everyone has in their minds is much larger and brighter." It is true that the poster reproduction in the museum shop is a much bolder image. With this fresh in your mind, the original looks dour and gloomy."
It's a damned shame.
I'm a tad puzzled but not in a bad way. Instead I'm intrigued...curious. Yesterday, while at the staff/board retreat one board member approached me and asked if I was still writing which is a question I've been hearing often in the last 3 weeks. We then spoke of getting together to talk. It's been almost a year since we spent time together. I have great respect for this person and so enjoy the coffee dates we've had.
The heightened push to continue writing began on vacation. While at Body Electric, I read a piece (actually the unfinished one I alluded to yesterday in my blog) and was approached, actually nagged, to get my work out there...my thoughts in the universe.
Well I think I am. Blogging. Apparently that's not enough for all these folks. The board member has and is again not at all subtly encouraging me to do a workshop.
Me? Workshop? I don't know about that. You see, I'm not the conference/workshop type. Yes I did a Body Electric, and I still can't believe I attended a workshop about sex. There's always a danger of being formulaic. And I hate to see sex become a recipe. But Body Electric was anything other than that. It was sheer magic. Spirit and magic. Regardless, I'm still not the workshop type. Although if I could, I would attend Creating Change in a few weeks. Reading about the workshops left me in awe at the wide range. Look at all that is offered under one roof! Next year I'll try and plan to attend. The organization I work for always sends a person or two. A couple years ago, one of my coworkers presented there.
I'm a one on one person. I believe in mentorship and see my path going that route if I found myself in teacher role.
And even if I ended up not being strictly one on one, what would I do a workshop on? So I have opinions. Who doesn't? So my views may be a tad out there at times. I don't know if that's enough to present. And even if it were, how could I create and organize such a forum. We are talking 1-2 hours. What the hell would I do? How would it look?
How do I present something that is so integral and substantial to me and at the same time feels abstract when I attempt to talk about it? There's no way I could speak for that long. And I wouldn't want to do a 'you listen and watch me blow hot air' workshop. I'd want to hold something that engages people and has active participants. But what would that be?
Okay...barring arts and crafts, I suppose a discussion would work. But I wouldn't even know where to begin.
There is also the danger to consider. The danger that if I created something, did it, discovered a positive experience, it could sway me from what I'm meant to do which I know...I'm not doing now. You know, that dirty 5 letter word. I can oh so easily get distracted. I can immerse myself in a vast variety of things. I've always considered myself a jack of all trades and master of none. A little of this, a little of that. Which is also why I don't think I have enough material for a workshop. It would make for strange soup. This is just like my painting. I have about 20 oil paintings in my apartment and yet, there isn't enough for a show because it's also a little of this and a little of that. The only cohesive theme in the art is the medium and painter. Yeah I know I could find group shows where I don't need to hang a bunch and I'll look for something appropriate.
Yesterday this board member planted a seed. In spite of all my objections I am taking it to heart in the sense that I'm actually going to give it serious thought, regardless of whether or not I do one. I will mindfully consider it. That's more than I can say for last year when I was nudged again and again.
The heightened push to continue writing began on vacation. While at Body Electric, I read a piece (actually the unfinished one I alluded to yesterday in my blog) and was approached, actually nagged, to get my work out there...my thoughts in the universe.
Well I think I am. Blogging. Apparently that's not enough for all these folks. The board member has and is again not at all subtly encouraging me to do a workshop.
Me? Workshop? I don't know about that. You see, I'm not the conference/workshop type. Yes I did a Body Electric, and I still can't believe I attended a workshop about sex. There's always a danger of being formulaic. And I hate to see sex become a recipe. But Body Electric was anything other than that. It was sheer magic. Spirit and magic. Regardless, I'm still not the workshop type. Although if I could, I would attend Creating Change in a few weeks. Reading about the workshops left me in awe at the wide range. Look at all that is offered under one roof! Next year I'll try and plan to attend. The organization I work for always sends a person or two. A couple years ago, one of my coworkers presented there.
I'm a one on one person. I believe in mentorship and see my path going that route if I found myself in teacher role.
And even if I ended up not being strictly one on one, what would I do a workshop on? So I have opinions. Who doesn't? So my views may be a tad out there at times. I don't know if that's enough to present. And even if it were, how could I create and organize such a forum. We are talking 1-2 hours. What the hell would I do? How would it look?
How do I present something that is so integral and substantial to me and at the same time feels abstract when I attempt to talk about it? There's no way I could speak for that long. And I wouldn't want to do a 'you listen and watch me blow hot air' workshop. I'd want to hold something that engages people and has active participants. But what would that be?
Okay...barring arts and crafts, I suppose a discussion would work. But I wouldn't even know where to begin.
There is also the danger to consider. The danger that if I created something, did it, discovered a positive experience, it could sway me from what I'm meant to do which I know...I'm not doing now. You know, that dirty 5 letter word. I can oh so easily get distracted. I can immerse myself in a vast variety of things. I've always considered myself a jack of all trades and master of none. A little of this, a little of that. Which is also why I don't think I have enough material for a workshop. It would make for strange soup. This is just like my painting. I have about 20 oil paintings in my apartment and yet, there isn't enough for a show because it's also a little of this and a little of that. The only cohesive theme in the art is the medium and painter. Yeah I know I could find group shows where I don't need to hang a bunch and I'll look for something appropriate.
Yesterday this board member planted a seed. In spite of all my objections I am taking it to heart in the sense that I'm actually going to give it serious thought, regardless of whether or not I do one. I will mindfully consider it. That's more than I can say for last year when I was nudged again and again.
It's very early for a Sunday morning. But just because we gain an hour of sleep doesn't mean my body takes it. I've been up since 5:30.
Guess what I'm working on? Yup, my new 14" iBook. Friday morning, I changed my mind again and, after speaking with a coworker who's a geek powerbook owner, I opted not to order the blue tooth. I'll pick up the adaptor at some point when I need it.
I love it and still am getting used to it. It's been many years since I've had a laptop. I've missed it so much! I haven't had a chance to really read it and set up the wireless. I'm not sure if it's simply as easy as flipping a switch or what. Yesterday was our staff/board retreat and so I haven't had the mental energy to look any further into my new computer.
Once I pick up a bag for it then I can tote it everywhere and do more writing.
If you vote by absentee ballot, have you mailed it in yet???? Yeah..I'll nag you every day until Tuesday. It's important to vote!
Guess what I'm working on? Yup, my new 14" iBook. Friday morning, I changed my mind again and, after speaking with a coworker who's a geek powerbook owner, I opted not to order the blue tooth. I'll pick up the adaptor at some point when I need it.
I love it and still am getting used to it. It's been many years since I've had a laptop. I've missed it so much! I haven't had a chance to really read it and set up the wireless. I'm not sure if it's simply as easy as flipping a switch or what. Yesterday was our staff/board retreat and so I haven't had the mental energy to look any further into my new computer.
Once I pick up a bag for it then I can tote it everywhere and do more writing.
If you vote by absentee ballot, have you mailed it in yet???? Yeah..I'll nag you every day until Tuesday. It's important to vote!
Friday, October 29, 2004
Yesterday I received an email in response to my entry about reproducing my paintings. The purpose of the email was for me to possibly consider that maybe my refusal to have my art reproduced into wall prints stem from a fear of success. It was a friendly email and I began a response only to realize that it was turning into a new blog entry. So this morning I sent off a short thank you with a head’s up to check here for the reply I was originally writing. Although our paths don’t cross very often, I know the person in real time. He is a kind and gentle man.
---------------
Dear reader,
I take your observation with affection because I know it comes from a caring place. Thank you.
Yes, I have no doubt I have a fear of success. It's part of what I'm working on with the shrink. You are correct. But, I must disagree with your reasoning for that conclusion. It has nothing to do with my choice to not reproduce my work. My fear of painting proves my fear of success. That’s it. Plain and simple. I also know that the work I’m doing with the shrink, touching old wounds, will allow everything else to ease out and heal. It’s all connected. So I’m not worried about it. It shall come in time.
There is something about painting...and maybe sculpture – imagine a 40 feet marble statue that is shrunk down to 12 inches so one can place it on their coffee table. Not quite the same effect, eh? Other creative modes of expression lend themselves well to reproduction. Printmakers, photographers, writers etc. But the integrity of a painting cannot be maintained in a copy. You can’t see brushstrokes. Your heart doesn’t hunger to run its fingers over the canvas and feel the brushwork. Your eyes can’t dance over the thick painterly patches or translucent glazes. You’ll lose at least some detail in the highlights and shadows, as well as the issue of color match. I don’t care how top notch the printer is. Not only is this for my work, but for years I’ve refused to purchase prints of paintings I enjoyed for the same reason. I’ve lived with blank walls before hanging a copy of a painting. I’d rather the painting be a memory.
That is my belief for my work and not a judgement on anyone else’s decision to reproduce or purchase prints from original artwork. Yes, you may wonder about all the art books I have around or seeing the work online. It is about intent. Reprinting in a book for educational purposes is a different motivation than mass producing for cheap wall art. In addition, I do believe there is some purpose and value for reproductions. Nothing is ever all good or all bad.
Speaking of mass production, I believe that as Americans, we are very much surrounded by capitalism, consumerism and commercialism. The industrial revolution has played a big part in how we live in our world and doesn't allow much room for originality. This influence is insidious and has snuck into our deepest core. Why spend the money on an original when, with very little effort, you can purchase a print for $50? It feels like a difference between western sensibility versus an eastern one.
Dear reader, you pushed a hot button when you offered the idea that my resistance to reproductions comes from a fear of success. What I do know, from painful life experience, anytime I choose a path that doesn’t fall into step with what we know or are comfortable with in this society, someone else decides my choice stems from disease, be it emotional, physical or spiritual. I’ve come to the realization that the possible diagnosis of disease is because the other is un-at-ease with my choice. I wrote about this very thing in March and am still tweaking that essay. I've yet to publish it here but methinks the time is soon.
I just did some googling for an idea I had and ran across a May 2004 article in Newday by Susan Cheever. I can only link to the google cache. In Drumming Up A Little Courage, she writes:
"We pay lip service to nonconformity, but all the evidence points in the other direction. From fashion fads, which travel through New York like flash floods, to much more important things, such as cars and even colleges, we all behave as if value comes from imitation. We buy the bestsellers. In the summer we listen to the same music on the same iPods. In the winter we are sheep in sheepskin clothing. If we are so proud of having choices, how come we all choose the same thing? We say we despise conformity, but we say it in unison. Even our schools teach the ability to conform in order to pass the Regents tests or ace the SATs. When we talk about wanting the best for our children, don't we mean that we want them to have what other children have? I certainly do."
Cheever's words reminded me of a wonderful quote I heard a few weeks back. Unfortunately I can't remember the source or the exact wording. The idea is that we are the most liberated nation in the world and yet we are the most enslaved to advertising, mass marketing and the media. We don't make our own choices, yet allow ourselves to be led.
Our society has an explicit definition of success. It’s wrapped in money and prestige. Fame. My life philosophy has a different definition of success. It's not about being the biggest or the best. I have written about ‘being famous' but it’s in a tongue and cheek way. Success is making the most of my potential and individuality regardless of what our society, be it our personal community or the larger world has to say about it. Success is consciously following your own unique voice.
"If a man does not keep pace with his companions, perhaps it is because he hears a different drummer. Let him step to the music which he hears, however measured or far away." - Thoreau
"We can say we admire those who march to a different drummer, but in fact being different is hard, harder than most of us can imagine, so hard that it often destroys the people who manage it. That's all." - Susan Cheever.
---------------
Dear reader,
I take your observation with affection because I know it comes from a caring place. Thank you.
Yes, I have no doubt I have a fear of success. It's part of what I'm working on with the shrink. You are correct. But, I must disagree with your reasoning for that conclusion. It has nothing to do with my choice to not reproduce my work. My fear of painting proves my fear of success. That’s it. Plain and simple. I also know that the work I’m doing with the shrink, touching old wounds, will allow everything else to ease out and heal. It’s all connected. So I’m not worried about it. It shall come in time.
There is something about painting...and maybe sculpture – imagine a 40 feet marble statue that is shrunk down to 12 inches so one can place it on their coffee table. Not quite the same effect, eh? Other creative modes of expression lend themselves well to reproduction. Printmakers, photographers, writers etc. But the integrity of a painting cannot be maintained in a copy. You can’t see brushstrokes. Your heart doesn’t hunger to run its fingers over the canvas and feel the brushwork. Your eyes can’t dance over the thick painterly patches or translucent glazes. You’ll lose at least some detail in the highlights and shadows, as well as the issue of color match. I don’t care how top notch the printer is. Not only is this for my work, but for years I’ve refused to purchase prints of paintings I enjoyed for the same reason. I’ve lived with blank walls before hanging a copy of a painting. I’d rather the painting be a memory.
That is my belief for my work and not a judgement on anyone else’s decision to reproduce or purchase prints from original artwork. Yes, you may wonder about all the art books I have around or seeing the work online. It is about intent. Reprinting in a book for educational purposes is a different motivation than mass producing for cheap wall art. In addition, I do believe there is some purpose and value for reproductions. Nothing is ever all good or all bad.
Speaking of mass production, I believe that as Americans, we are very much surrounded by capitalism, consumerism and commercialism. The industrial revolution has played a big part in how we live in our world and doesn't allow much room for originality. This influence is insidious and has snuck into our deepest core. Why spend the money on an original when, with very little effort, you can purchase a print for $50? It feels like a difference between western sensibility versus an eastern one.
Dear reader, you pushed a hot button when you offered the idea that my resistance to reproductions comes from a fear of success. What I do know, from painful life experience, anytime I choose a path that doesn’t fall into step with what we know or are comfortable with in this society, someone else decides my choice stems from disease, be it emotional, physical or spiritual. I’ve come to the realization that the possible diagnosis of disease is because the other is un-at-ease with my choice. I wrote about this very thing in March and am still tweaking that essay. I've yet to publish it here but methinks the time is soon.
I just did some googling for an idea I had and ran across a May 2004 article in Newday by Susan Cheever. I can only link to the google cache. In Drumming Up A Little Courage, she writes:
"We pay lip service to nonconformity, but all the evidence points in the other direction. From fashion fads, which travel through New York like flash floods, to much more important things, such as cars and even colleges, we all behave as if value comes from imitation. We buy the bestsellers. In the summer we listen to the same music on the same iPods. In the winter we are sheep in sheepskin clothing. If we are so proud of having choices, how come we all choose the same thing? We say we despise conformity, but we say it in unison. Even our schools teach the ability to conform in order to pass the Regents tests or ace the SATs. When we talk about wanting the best for our children, don't we mean that we want them to have what other children have? I certainly do."
Cheever's words reminded me of a wonderful quote I heard a few weeks back. Unfortunately I can't remember the source or the exact wording. The idea is that we are the most liberated nation in the world and yet we are the most enslaved to advertising, mass marketing and the media. We don't make our own choices, yet allow ourselves to be led.
Our society has an explicit definition of success. It’s wrapped in money and prestige. Fame. My life philosophy has a different definition of success. It's not about being the biggest or the best. I have written about ‘being famous' but it’s in a tongue and cheek way. Success is making the most of my potential and individuality regardless of what our society, be it our personal community or the larger world has to say about it. Success is consciously following your own unique voice.
"If a man does not keep pace with his companions, perhaps it is because he hears a different drummer. Let him step to the music which he hears, however measured or far away." - Thoreau
"We can say we admire those who march to a different drummer, but in fact being different is hard, harder than most of us can imagine, so hard that it often destroys the people who manage it. That's all." - Susan Cheever.
Today Mark Morford is bellowing GO VOTE!!!
"You cannot stay here. You cannot sit in this moment any longer. You simply have to get out and vote and scream and then roll up this ugly hunk of living history into a tight little ball of hot gelatinous goo and hurl it at the wall of time and see what sticks." - Mark Morford
"You cannot stay here. You cannot sit in this moment any longer. You simply have to get out and vote and scream and then roll up this ugly hunk of living history into a tight little ball of hot gelatinous goo and hurl it at the wall of time and see what sticks." - Mark Morford
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