january 2010 update - Dance While You Can

today it's extremely hot with an almost white light baking the pavement and asphalt here in Rio de Janeiro. due to heavy rain the beaches are posted with warnings not to enter the water because of pollutants. it's going on three weeks now, and it's not too great for the typical tourist who can only stay one or two weeks.

my five months stay allows me to relax, but when i'm inside my guy corrals my attention on his life and when i'm outside the brazilian images flooding my senses have the power to block out most thinking. it's an effort to carry on a conversation while walking, as paying attention to the conversation somehow blocs my visual field. but i like emails, especially the ones that give unexpected input. recent emails have caused me to do some more work on this site and take a time out to think about me - where i've been and where to go from here.

an artist from my home state emailed that he had recently undergone open-heart surgery, after a massive heart attack and other health problems. we met thru a study-group of Castaneda's life after Carlos died. the years have helped drive home an idea that i first encountered in Carlos Castaneda's writings - that the less importance i give to the idea of 'me', the better off i am. that sentence shows the paradox in that it needs two personal pronouns to make the statement. ideally i would be better off if the 'i's' and the me's, my's and mine's graph lower and lower in word count. better off in what way you might ask? in that in anonymity one navigates without the cumbersome baggage of one's ego and the expectations of others. one's past, one's reputation, one's progress or regression is not the point. rather than approaching life from the analyist couch, what works for me is immersing myself in action, be out in the world. to create and enjoy wealth via one's labor (as opposed to sneakily getting it from others efforts, then wasting or hoarding it) is a challenge worth meeting and meshes with the times.

emails from a young Chillean artist living in the USA humble me with his perception. it's a challenge to be better, know more, do more, risk more. sometimes i'm up to it, sometimes not. his metaphors and historical references throw me off-balance at times. the intelligence, hunger and energy of the world at large is veiled by a pervasive and controlling media, and the sins of country and forefathers left unsaid, but it an unsustainable ignorant bliss if one travels and sees the world unfiltered. my eyes have opened to my own reliance on an unmerited inheritance. there was always room to fail because their was food always in the fridge. while for the great majority failure is destitution. their drum-tight abdominal walls and muscular backs show the effects of hunger and hard work, a beauty grown from poverty. in harsh conditions it flowers but fades fast. but you'll find more fat than you're led to expect on the poor as well as the chic brazilian beaches. like the half ton of trash left by beach goers everday here in Rio, the excess pounds on the beachgoers is in vivid contrast to the mythical Copacabana and Ipanema perfection. once i was invited to the home of a family i knew to be very poor by Amereican standards and was so shocked at how full of things the house was, i couldn't help but remark that i'd always thought that poor people couldn't afford so much 'extra'. the sharp mother of 7 delighted in my 'uneducated' honesty and surprise and trumped me, saying "we shop at the dollar store." it was a good laugh for everyone. recommended author: Edwardo Galeano

a French collector of gay art emails me saying the nicest things in the nicest way about my art and website. it is a welcome support and gives me the desire to stay on the dance floor via my art. (my spinal column can't compete with these latin moves.) links to other of his favorite artists were included and those artists had links to their favorites. we're all connected ; the butterfly effect is in full force. hurricane, tsunami, earthquake, aids, age, the new day, whatever. nothing that was will be the way it was. everything changes. life is ephemeral, and no matter how much i wish i could feel my body as it used to be as it moved to the music of my times and places, or keep these guys forever in these fun youthful moments, it's not to be. and yet....

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=51OqR8sb32k

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9SYwW1a_UmU

perhaps i should just let my art speak for me, and thus rid myself of these pesky personal pronouns. perhaps i could be more reclusive and guarded in the future than i ever expected. the climate appears to be changing for the worse, and i'm not talking now about the weather. hopefully i can adapt, and if not, gracefully go down with the ship.