For The Kids

The inspiration: Piet Mondrian's, The Grey Tree, 1911

Yesterday was a day for the kids at a middle school in Oakland. I volunteered my time to create this Mondrian-inspired mural inside one of their portables for Special Education classes. The walls were flimsy and covered with brightly colored tissue paper which had been left to wither away for two years. It was also crowded with all sorts of worn out posters and a hodgepodge of pictures that only added to the clutter. It was definitely time for a makeover.

Dance, Dance, Dance

Ideas dancing in my head; none seeping out of it yet. All I know is that I must step into my studio everyday to coax the dancing onto my drafting table. I am working and keeping my hand in flex. I am no longer just sloshing paint around, but re-examining my process to welcome new ways of dissecting ideas and romancing the space.

I have one solo show this year in Manila to work towards. I'm hoping for a couple more, and indeed, working on getting some gigs here locally in San Francisco. But I'm in no hurry to get more exhibition time; I'm more focused on creating new work and challenging myself. Just breathe.

Devil's Spoke

Devil's Spoke
song by: Laura Marling
from the album: I Speak Because I Can

I might be a part of this
ripple on water from a lonesome drip
A fallen tree that witnessed me
I'm alone,
Him and me.

And then life itself could not aspire
to have someone be so admired
I threw creation to my king
with a silence broken by a whispered wind.

All of this can be broken
All of this can be broken
Hold your devil by his spoke and spin him to the ground.

And root to root and tip to tip
I look at him, my country gip
Let it up, I own his fears
But someone brought you close to tears.

Many trains and many miles
Brought you to me on this sunny isle
What of which you wish to speak
Have you come here to rescue me?

All of this can be broken
All of this can be broken
Hold your devil by his spoke and spin him to the ground.

But the love of your life
lives but lies no more
and where she lay
a flower grows.

The arms are fed
the babes have wed
and the backs have bled,
keeping her in tow.

But I am your keeper
And I hold your face away from light
I am yours till they come
I am yours till they come.

Eye to eye
Nose to nose
ripping off each others clothes
in the most peculiar way.

Eye to eye
Nose to nose
ripping off each others clothes
in the most peculiar way.

Lesbian Vibes

Is it the hair?
The fact that I don't wear makeup or dress up much?
The way I move or take up space?
My broad shoulders?
The way I speak? The ideas I sell? The thoughts I choose to share?
I met a very interesting woman last night who claimed I had a lesbian vibe.
I reassured her, "it happens to me a lot".
But I don't exactly know why.

I'm not even sure whether these vibes come off physically or in some less tangible way.
I would think that the "vibes" we speak of have much to do with communication and the nature of our interactions. The way we perform and display carefully crafted visual signposts to each other. Beyond this visual language--which incorporates the way we look at ourselves and each other (our gaze), our facial expressions and body language--there is also the way we speak to each other. Even the way we laugh can say a lot about how we choose to present ourselves in a social setting.

There's no way we're conscious of this dynamic all the bloody time (that would be too tiring), so maybe our behavior is also a direct knee-jerk response to the situation we find ourselves in. Maybe I was giving off lesbian vibes last night because of the environment, and who I was hanging out with? After all, I was in a room were the majority of women were gay. If I were in a room filled with straight men, would I still be sending the same vibes? Also, interestingly enough, every woman who has felt this vibe from me (and has made a point to let me know) also happens to be gay. Perhaps this is the vital link?

Hard Knock Life

Life must be so damn hard as a cat. I mean, you get to sleep in all day long on a full size bed. Your food is never as close to the bed as you'd like it to be. And people be all up in your face constantly with all that darn cuddling. It's a nightmare really.

Until Next Time

It just sort of happened. The tears came. I couldn't help it. My friend just left two minutes ago to fly back home to London, after a month's visit here with me. I'm not one to get emotional--especially since I should be so used to this by now being oceans away from my bosom buds. Every single one of my girlfriends is a long plane ride away, and yet we have all managed to see each other regularly. For all the disruption, annoyance and inconveniences these visits can cause, I remain the loyal bestfriend/girlfriend/soulmate, full to the brim with affection. I am 100% myself with my friends. Zero pretenses. I don't have to be happy, entertaining or agreeable all the bloody time. I am liberated and free to be me. And here I am, trying my damnest to hold back the tears because the house seems so empty without her.

Getting There

The Grand Canyon, viewed from the Bright Angel Trail on the South Rim, 2011

A road trip is maybe 10% the destination and 90% the ride. I say this because having just done one with a friend, I feel it's safe to say that who you do it with and how the whole ordeal is executed has everything to do with the overall fun factor of the destination. There are exceptions, of course. The Grand Canyon, for instance, has to be taken as an isolated phenomenon and will trump even the worst case of road trip fatigue or disaster. It is entirely it's own experience.

I'd never gone on a road trip this side of the US before, so the plan was a simple one: try to see all the major hotspots within relative proximity to each other; a very limited budget; and time. So we decided on taking Highway 1 as far down as San Diego, stopping by Big Sur, Santa Barbara, and Venice Beach. A nice mix of activities that included redwood hiking and camping, toy town exploring, beach bumming, hosteling, city shopping and burrito hunting. The ride down the coast is always a magical one, meandering through amazing foliage and cliffs that take you dangerously close to the blue abyss.

Part Two of the road trip took us inland where we explored the Mojave desert, Death Valley, Nevada, and the small towns in between, before arriving in Arizona, at the South Rim of the Grand Canyon. This was a paralyzing moment. What I had once jokingly referred to as just a "giant hole in the ground", presented itself to me in all its glory. With its crimson wash of reds, violets and blues, the canyon opened itself up for us to bear witness to millions of years of geological history, cultivation and astounding natural beauty. This is the most beautiful hole I've ever seen. And yes, it is huge.

Now, despite the fact that a destination like the Grand Canyon can make the road trip from hell seem bearable, there is still much to say about the nature of the journey versus the destination. Road trips are all about discovery in motion: opening up your mind and body to new triggers and wonders. What allows for this kind of environment, and what makes the entire adventure stimulating boils down to a) who you're sharing this experience with, and b) your levels of expectation and flexibility. For me, both a) and b) were on top notch form. Not only was I traveling with someone I knew from the inside-out, she was also someone who knew me from the inside-out. No surprises or spooks waiting to come out in that department. As for b) All that was to be expected was that some crazy unexpected things were bound to happen. They most certainly did; and we conquered.