Awakened by a Dream

January started out with a gut punch. It hurt, and so far it has taken me 11 days to recover. Although I had a job as a bodyguard for a three year old kid back in 1987 when I lived in Los Angeles, and even though I had martial arts training every day of the week in the event I actually had to confront a kidnapper, I wasn't a fighter. I had a hot temper, but that was inherited from my father. And what taekwondo and aikido taught me was, when you are confronting the opposition, a hot head is precisely what you do not need. I was punched by love, and I staggered, sleepless, for 11 days.

In those 11 days I accomplished a few things. I got rid of some unnecessary, like a 17" aluminum pizza pan which I knew I would never use again. Back in NYC I had a moment where I got into making the perfect pizza dough, but that was a dozen years ago. I got rid of a tabletop easel which was also from the NYC epoch when my friend Doug taught me how to paint with oils. I completed one painting, which my friend Yvette ended up buying, but I haven’t painted since. I really loved the oils and I would happily do it again, but I only have so much time to dedicate to art making, and for the last several years photography has been my main creative effort. I also started cleaning the apartment, patiently, not all frenetic or anything, just a small corner here and there. I still have a lot to degrease and scrub, but I'm seriously not sweating it. It may take me the entire month of January to get through it all. I'm in no rush.

Today is day 12. (It's also my brother's birthday. John is two years older than me and he lives in Las Vegas with his wife and two kids). But honestly, my insomnia hasn't been that tragic. I've watched a ton of movies, in bed, on the iPad, and I have also started reading a book I purchased eight years ago called H is for Hawk by Helen Macdonald. This morning, in the wee hours, I watched the Korean film Burning which is two and a half hours long and thusly perfect for the sleepless, and, I was immediately hooked from the first frame. Lee Chang-dong just might be my new favorite director. A perfect movie. And Helen Macdonald is writing about melancholy, which is one of my favorite subjects. Helen is bereaved and she is eloquently telling me all about it.

After a few chapters of Hawk I turned off my Hindu night light, which I've had for at least 25 years, and shut my eyes. I kept the iPad nearby and listened to my current go-to playlist: "Meditation Moments" by Apple Music Classical. I started to get drowsy, which was a good sign, and at some point I was at a groovy rave where everyone was laidback and chilling to "Dream 3 (in the midst of my life)" by Ben Russell, Yuki Numata Resnick & Max Richter. I was big time relaxing on a poolside chaise lounge, dancing with my eyes closed, using just my right hand to emote my deepest feels when I realized someone else was touching my hand. I tried to see who it was but I couldn’t recognize their face. Our hands danced together and it was tender, and loving, and peaceful. When I eventually opened my eyes (for real this time, I wasn't dreaming anymore) my right arm was outstretched as though I was still dancing with my partner. I bolted upright and smiled hoping to never forget this feeling. Then I heard some music so I immediately grabbed the iPad to see what was playing; it was “Dream 3" coming to a close.

I finally slept on day 12, holding hands with love.

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One Year in Baltimore

A persons work space is like a tarot card or tea leaves. They reveal something. Dee and I moved to Baltimore exactly one year ago today and this is how my desk looked then. How does it look today? There are some subtle differences.

The Ableton Push has relocated to an auxiliary shelf in order to clear up some table top. Although the desk is eight feet long, it was kinda tight. So now there is space for Dee and I to spread out as we savor our dinners and look at art. It's way more social.

The curtains are another significant change. The hodgepodge fabrics are thicker these days which helps tone down the sunlight. I was getting too much reflection on the laptop and this wasn't helping my editing. I think my photography is better today than it was a year ago so the curtains were a nice adjustment. I've taken 3,550 photos since living in Baltimore and I've edited most of them while sitting at this desk. The rest were edited in motels when I took my road trip to Los Angeles.

The last notable changes are the handmade gifts I received from Dee, which are mainly bits of paper with happy illustrations on them. She also makes tiny trinkets bursting with love energy. Dee is constantly working on her witchcraft. My talismans live on top of the stereo speakers. Basically, good vibes all day for us.

I should mention that the two paintings on the wall above the desk were painted by my brother and I when we were in elementary school back in the 70s in Los Angeles. I've always been fascinated by our aesthetic choices. It’s no wonder I painted outside the lines and used a ton of adolescence to murder the daisy. Coincidentally, Dee painted a portrait of us about a year ago to commemorate seven years of being together and her water color is hanging just above my brothers painting. Dee's portrait includes a bit of fancy numerology having to do with the date of our anniversary (10-6-2013) and how it magically and mathematically involves the number four. It's deep. Something about 10+6+2+1+3 = 22 and 2+2 = 4. And on the fourth day, God created the sun, the moon and the stars. And speaking of, here is one of the first photos I took of Dee in Baltimore.

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Dee at the Inner Harbor | Baltimore, MD | 2020

So what does all this tell you about me? Fuck knows. But I'm hella organized. I believe change happens gradually. And, I guess I have less artistic rage.   

I wouldn't hurt a daisy anymore.

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What is Art?

So maybe we start with a 5 x 7 canvas. I'll create something that lives on the 5 x 7. Can I fit it all in? I need more space. I have so much I want to say. I have feelings. Perhaps the 16 x 20 is better. A bigger universe for my narrative. The beginning, the middle, the end. No way, 16 x 20 is not happening. I need more than inches. It's all about feet now. 6 x 8. Yes. I can capture the forest, the animals and all the love on a 6 x 8 foot canvas. Done. But I don't have room for the ocean. Hmmm. Let's be honest, I'm a water spirit. Always have been. Perhaps my landlord will let me put a mural on the side of her building. It's massive. I'll ask. A good 30 x 50 feet should get the job done. Just enough room for the dolphins and the redwoods and the lavender. But what about the people in Africa? I need a bigger building. How do I illustrate an ancient face? Space, that's how. I need more of it. A gigantic room for everybody dancing together. One love. I need more than feet. I need centuries to capture all the minutia. The depth of feeling is intense. I need a million songs, endless kisses and the ethereal flow of forever. Art is everything and everywhere. Oh so glorious. But I'm getting rather sleepy thinking about it all.

I think I'll just watch TV.

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