Friday, December 11, 2009
Wednesday, December 9, 2009
Friday, November 27, 2009
It feels like I've been walking around the rings of Saturn, pensively plotting on how to transport myself onto the planet itself, unaware of the magic below my feet. I am walking on a magnetic belt of ice rocks which are held together by the orbital resonance of its moons. Forces unseen but felt by everything around me, undeniable in their existence but for my oblivion, unappreciated.
Wednesday, November 4, 2009
I went to Phoenicia to be reborn. A yoga retreat on the Catskill Mountains cleaned me out of about 8 billion pounds of baggage. The entire time was spent in silence as we fasted with The Master Cleanse, yoga, nature, and hot, hot heat. Salvador was the master of ceremony for the sweat lodge. He and his hippiedudes built a ceremonial sweat lodge out of sticks with an altar facing west. He asked the stones we were using to heat the lodge to also heal us. Then he poured water on them and we all sweat out our demons. Some people cried. I was in a trance state that could've lasted for days. Emerging from the pitch black darkness of the lodge, I felt lighter and purer.
Wednesday, October 28, 2009
October 26, 2009
Lately, I've asked the universe to help me transgress my own unhealthy conditioning in matters of vanity and relating to others. During Autumnal Equinox, the intention was set in a series of four parts, each based on past experiences that have shaped my current patterns of behavior. Growing up without a father caused a lack of positive male attention, which I sought heavily through the only way I knew how, promiscuity. I lacked a positive sexual model. Additionally, growing up as the only child in a scarcity-minded household, relatives were careful to never spoil me so I learned to covet and possess materials in a way that didn't allow any room for loss or error.
So far, I've named these two demons and have a way of identifying them when they come crawling up my shoulder. I would also illustrate these four parts with photographs of my own murder, the killing of ineffectual practices. The conscience is both a curse and a blessing.
I summoned The Devil himself. On Facebook, no less. I drew him out of my tarot deck and into my bed. This person gave the hamster on my heart-shaped wheel a crystal meth feeling and beautifully barbed words which caught on its insides, eviscerating it. This person brought me back about 17 years, back to the feelings I had when I first started seeking external validation through male attention, giving up my virginity twice in one night to the boyfriend of my best friend. Jealousy, obsession, anxiety, insecurity, a feeling of lack. Yearning for that one material object that would make him see that I was special, that I deserved to be more than just the clandestine mistress. All my material desires swirled around this one idealization of Mr. Devil. Because he was always someone else's boyfriend, he was something I could never have, which in turn made me mad with obsession at the idea of possessing him. I was in a hellish secret place that seemed like an obsidian encasement, glass-like but completely opaque, and the only person with the key was him. The threat of breaking free not only an undesirable impossibility, but I relished in this dark, melancholy place. I savored the torturous feelings of self-pity, spinning words into heartbreaking poetry. Many years ago, I had no idea of what my higher purpose was, so it was a dark, delicious adventure creating a heart chasm.
But now, things are different. This ain't my first rodeo and I've outgrown these ineffectual and blasé feelings because they no long serve my higher purpose, which is to love and be loved. And this feels more like madness than love. My psychic friend tells me that I have a dark brown schism right below my heart chakra and that I have not opened it up to anyone I've been in a relationship with. Figures.
What is the difference between love and obsession? I'm sure this has been asked as many times as it's occurred. Studies show that serotonin levels of people in love and ones with Obsessive Compulsive Disorder are unusually low compared to the standard levels found in the brain of a control subject. OCD and love are similarly obsessive, driving urges, and that serotonin is somehow involved with this kind of focused obsessiveness.
Have I fallen victim to my own chemical warfare? My body had a very strong, physical reaction to The Devil. The hamster would do erratic flips on its wheel, sometimes bending it into pentagrams and triangles. I started panicking for no real reason at all. God-awful feelings arose in me that seemed to stem from my expectations of attachment to a certain outcome. My attention no longer rooted in the present, but split between those feelings from 17 years ago mingled with the current feelings The Devil brought about. But I had asked for this journey, and not for the destination, so I laid in the bed I made. All of my maniacal thoughts centered around the tarot Devil on his pedestal with the two demons tethered to it. How befitting.
Friday, October 16, 2009
Wednesday, September 16, 2009
Thursday, August 13, 2009
Saturday, July 25, 2009
Monday, July 20, 2009
I decided try out another male character on our bi-monthly at Sugarland. This party was the Geriatric Jamboree. Being Mr. Wei Na Hung (aka Confucion) was actually much more difficult than I anticipated. I mean I had a ton of fun without really having to exert any unnatural effort, but my voice didn't match my character no matter how I played him. Finally, at Old Candi's suggestion, I just went with my southern hick twangy voice. It was very confusing. I had a cane and walked very slowly because I had just turned 200 years old. But I did love feeling up on those old white ladies. They didn't seem to mind at all. I mean, after all, I was 200 years old!
Tuesday, July 7, 2009
This kid got shot and killed right down the block from where I live. I mean like 30 feet away from my window. Apparently our street is the boundary between the Puerto Ricans and Blacks. Fierce rivals? This all happened right before the Puerto Rican Parade..
The highlight of my month was pulling two fantastic shows with SHE-DICK for Joan Rivers at the Gramercy Theater.
Brett and I backup danced for Don PV at Santos Party House
SHE-DICK also did some backup singing for Jasper James at the Nokia Theater
So all in all, it was a very productive month. All three of us were feeling so worn out. We need a spa retreat!
We've also started planning our reality show/tour/concept for BETTER THAN GAY, which is just a collective of artists and performers who are all encompassing when it comes to the queer culture.
Recently, stumbled across a treasure chest of a thrift store called Dominick's. It has since moved into a much nicer space down the street, and with it, a crew of old-school New Yorkers who have been making things happen for a long time. Leslie is one of such fine humans, and his partners Andy and Charlie. Such characters. There is talk of a SuperConscious coffee shop and a production crew for a SuperConscious movement soon.
Monday, May 25, 2009
Friday, May 22, 2009
Carrie was a spastic retainer-wearing horse lover. She wore those fake chaps with fringe that come with high-waisted jeans. I wanted those so bad when I was in 6th grade. Her hair did several 360s throughout the night. I love her!
Finally, I decided to adopt an entirely new character. I'd never dressed as a male before, and I would have to say it was so much easier than being female. I have many relatives whom I based my Wayne Chung character off of, and it was so effortless that I'd really like to develop him a little more.