Month of Blog

Because you crave it!

In the past few weeks, I have become tired of seeing my mind work like a FaceBook post. I actually started noticing this on the 2009 Stencil Nation tour in Europe. As Pod and I wandered around Vienna, Austria, we realized that every city we toured, the word “FaceBook” kept showing up in random places. And we both realized that we were beginning to think as posts to FaceBook. “Woah, that’s funny. I should share that on FaceBook.” I didn’t have a phone in the EU and Pod’s phone was a cheap “dumb” phone, so we couldn’t go from thought to FB in a matter of seconds.

Beyond the concept of having a huge corporation enter my brain as a way to express myself, I have begun to worry about the content that I post on FB. Google just changed the way they gather user information. I’m sure you saw the ads all over the place telling you about Google’s plan to consolidate their user experience, and thus their user’s thoughts. Buddhist ads have begun to appear on FB. I don’t want to buy any buddha t-shirts, but FB thinks I do. As the FTC mulls a “do not track” rule, and Google and other companies get busted for accessing too much user data, I’m beginning to wonder if my already slim profile on FB (and Google+, which I rarely post to), is a bit too much. And as FB changes their format (and user agreements) every 3 months, I am growing tired of the overflow of information. I hear this FB burnout from other people as well, and I think that the FB OD is one reason Google+ just isn’t happening. Most people appear to be thinking “You mean I have to go to yet another website to post my life?!” Continue reading “Month of Blog”

1999 Lost Photos

My storage space spent the past month under plastic sheets to keep construction debris and dust out. After the workers (flipping an apartment above the storage space…. $2000 / mo. 1 bedroom) vacuumed the space, I took some time to purge some stuff. One item was an old Firewire 400 hard drive that I built about eight years ago. I got it working, so I pulled items off and then erased the disc to possibly give to a thrift store.

Three finds on the old hard drive, named Oblio, were these files of scanned slides from my trip to Israel in 1999. I actually tried to photograph people on this trip which is a rarity for me. The man smoking the water pipe was suspicious of my camera, so this shot was from the hip. The camel ended up being on the World Remix flyer for Yair Dalal’s 2001 concert at CELL. Sometimes I miss using my film camera.

Continue reading “1999 Lost Photos”

Murals at CELL

tito-na-rua-mission-street-comic-at-cell
Street comic by Tito Na Rua (Rio, Brazil) at CELL (3/2012)

My mural curating continues in 2012. Late last week I had three meetings about three different murals. I also have been in contact with Dia, the artist who painted the “Liberty” mural (now for sale) as well as the “Dia del Toro” mural over on the ACT shop entrance. Dia is going to paint a new mural at the ACT spot as soon as the weather cooperates.

Last Thursday, I met with Ray Balberan and artist Carlos Gonzalez. Mentioned in an earlier post, several panels from the 1980s RAP mural “Education is Liberation” magically appeared in the back of CELL. I took the panels, contacted the journalist at Mission Loc@l, and Ray finally met with me and Gonzalez to pick up the panels. Ray and Carlos were extremely happy to see the panels. Most of what has been found show gang banger skeletons committing violence. Though the message was education is the way out of the hood, the art is still quite powerful and a historical representation of the Mission District in the 80s.

Carlos Gonzales (R) and Ray Balberan celebrate the return of two lost 1980s mural panels
Carlos Gonzales (R) and Ray Balberan celebrate the return of two lost 1980s mural panels

Then I met with Paz de la Calzada to discuss her painting at a few spots at CELL. She will paint either wisps of hair or roots on the curved wall of the women’s bathroom as well as somewhere on the exterior walls of CELL (possibly the sidewalks). Then I met with Cy Wagoner to discuss the continued concept of the Native American themed wall at the 2048 Bryant entrance. I think we have an idea of how to move forward on this. The mural will possibly incorporate stencil, wheatpasted paper, free spray, and maybe other styles. If the rain ever stops.

Finally, Tito na Rua from Rio, Brazil stayed briefly at 2048. He does great street comics on walls. The Vexta stencil had been defaced by a tag, so I had Tito spray up his characters next to Meggs’s crazy SF monster. Looks great.

Bab Aziz

Like holding a hand-full of sand, the Iranian/French/Tunisian film “Bab Aziz” sifts through my memory of visual and audial delights. It played to a small screen here in San Francisco, and I was fortunate enough to see it. Certain scenes of this “Iranian Cenemapoem” gave me shivers, touched my heart, and gave my soul a layer of the joy of living. My soul knew, absolutely, that when I die, and I will die eventually, heaven or eternity will be similar to this movie. Ever since seeing this movie, the idea of wandering in a desert, telling stories and dancing, meeting poets, musicians, and madmen, all for the eventual discovery of a spiritual music and dance gathering HAS TO BE ETERNITY.

I loved the movie so much, I begged my friend Jeff Stot, an amazing Middle Eastern producer and musician, to come and see it. He enjoyed it and saw it a second time with some Persian musicians he worked with (they were not as enthused as we were about the movie). I rarely see a movie twice, but I had a hunch that “Bab Aziz” would not be for rent any time soon in my local video store (or, more presently online).

I was correct in assuming this. Not knowing Farsi or Arabic, I have tried to purchase this DVD over the years. I went to many many DVD stores in New York City looking for it. I’ve looked online too, but there is not really an English audience for this movie. I frequently go to YouTube to find segments of “Bab Aziz” to share with people who seem to have a mystical or spiritual depth. Doing this a few days ago, I discovered that Middle Eastern people are posting the full-length movie on YouTube. I found one with no subtitles, and another with Turkish subtitles. Then, I found one in 9 parts with English subtitles. The person who posted the videos describes the movie as an  “Iranian Cinemapoem; A poetic glimpse of ‘Sufi-Darvish’ vision and way of life! A philosophical Sufi story.”

Yes to all three. Finally, after years of watching the segments of the movie sift from my memory, I got to watch it again. It was a little bit-mapped, but the tears and shivers came again. And the deep soul-knowing of my connection to music, as natural as walking or breathing, rang true again. Like a meditation bell or a soul clap: we can feel the truth when it comes to us.

Please watch… sharing this movie may help one understand parts of themselves. It is also from a country much maligned in the US media right now. Iranian leaders may call us “satan” but Iranians are humans after all, and some are capable of making great art.

Beach Dreams

You find out about a man-made island and show me where it is on a local map. We bike to a ferry and then take the boat the the island. Our bikes end up tied together in the water. As we sit on the small decked “island,” we watch the bikes barely float on the surface. We talk about fishing and look at the large gold fish shimmering deep in the waters around us.

At a sea town JY is cleaning out his van. I have storage in there and become upset about my things. I go to another truck where I have things stored and it is open with the key in the lock. DJ is using this to store sound equipment. I get really upset but become distracted by seeing young men walking around with Clemson Tigers clothing. My lover then appears and I try to tell her about my storage. But I get distracted again by wanting to “scratch a record” on her body. She’s not into it and leaves. I walk by a station wagon that SB is sleeping in (on a bed of dried grass) and he tells me about his horrible night last night. I remember that I need to complain to DJ about my storage and walk by JY’s van to see it washed and empty! Then I realize that I’ve been walking around this whole time in underwear (at least they kind of look like swim trunks). Walking back to my place to change, I see more Clemson kids. “Excuse me, but why are you all wearing Clemson colors?” “We’re a church group, from PC.” “Ah – Presbyterian College in South Carolina.” “Yeah. Say, you don’t know where we can get good beer? All the places around here serve the same three kinds.” “Try North Beach,” I tell him.

Last Week’s Dream

I meet a blonde-haired woman. We walk to the edge of the Pacific and begin to swim. As we swim, a large grey whale joins us. We swim all the way to Borneo, where I walk ashore and get lost in a village. I realize that I do not have my passport since I swam over with a woman and a whale. I run into all of my college friends. They have rented out a bungalow and are partying. I party with them amazed at the conincadence of seeing them in Borneo.

DREAM: TR Pulp Fiction

TG’s mom has died and his sister needs a ride to the mortuary. The mortuary sends a car around to pick her up, while TG drives me to the mortuary. A storm causes a downpour as TG drives by several police cars that have blocked off a street. We stop in the parking lot by the American Cafe, and TG gets out of the auto and approaches a white guy with a gun.

TG pulls out a gun and shoots the other guys’ gun and ruins it. The guy throws his gun at TG and then TG runs to tackle the guy. The guy pulls out a straight razor just as TG opens his arms to grab the guy. The razor cuts TG’s left side open. Panicked, I get out of the auto to help TG, but the guy runs towards me with a raised razor.

::: I end the dream and wake up ::: I fall asleep, fall back into the dream scene, but change the endings like a DVD bonus.

1) I suddenly am a karate master and disarm the guy and kick his ass.

2) I look at the razor and turn it into a flower, making the guy look like a Banksy stencil.

3) I slow the movement down and go over to the guy and disarm him.

……. DREAM ENDS …….. Another dream begins…….

DH is a wanted man so he flees a building to save himself. He runs into a park and hides under a round structure. The structure is a sacred spot for the local Native Americans, so the police cannot go there and apprehend DH. Some guys in a truck try to nab DH but they are tricked about where DH is hiding spot.

DH runs away, clutching a dirty Fozzie the Bear doll (that, like Hobbs in Calvin and Hobbs, will come to life).

….. another transition ……

Fozzie and Samuel L. Jackson in the hood.

Fozzie is hiding in a garage in a rough hood of a big, urban city. There is barbed wire, graffiti, and junk strewn about the garage. A young junkie girl has just OD’d, and a dealer comes to call. When all seems lost, the Muppets save the day in a hilarious ending.

…….. alt ending ……..

The hood is rated PG this time and Samuel L. Jackson does not make a cameo. The young junkie still dies, but, instead of a dealer showing up, six women show up instead. They are dressed as kittens, and Fozzie sniffs the main cat’s butt to see who they are. He recognizes her scent and the other women laugh.

Thur., Jan. 12, 2012 (Marin County)

Dream: Underground Greenville

I go to a hotel room with TG and William Shatner. Shatner is talking about the date he has that night as I decided to wander away. I see my family in the dining room of the hotel and my mother ignores me. I look over to one side of where I stand and see a tour group full of masked Asians. Someone in the group mentions the “Lord of the Rings” film, and then another person in the group pukes on the ground. I see AM amble through the pile of vomit, and then a group of ROTC cadets run through it.

I wander away and find a dark area covered in graffiti. A guy shows up with a cut out stencil and asks me if he can paint it on the wall. I say “of course.” The guy sets it up on the wall and gets ready to spray the stencil. A black man in a suit comes out of a nearby doorway and yells at the sprayer. The sprayer yells back, gesturing to all the other graffiti and art that has been painted on the walls.

I wander off.

Wed., Jan. 11, Marin County

Dream: Burningman Los Angeles

While trying to get a ticket for the Burningman festival, I get caught up in a phone scam. I meet a couple who walk in with me at the gate and the ticket they sold me is fake. Security throws me out, and a man sympathizes, handing me money which includes English pound coins.

I decide to wander to the 6pm side of the city. I see R and J at a poorly secured border. I walk over the shabby fencing and walk to an area that looks like a Middle Eastern souk (market). I see dark-skinned soldiers with long clubs and machine guns. I look over a wall and see an art installation that is a flock of huge, edible pink flamingos. I walk by New Orleans style bars and Munich style beer halls. A strange steam punk contraption appears over another wall. I go closer and look for Bishop Joey.

Wandering more alleys, the path narrows and crowds with revelers. I come out to another Burningman entrance! Outside the festival (again), I watch busloads of uniformed American soldiers exit with fanfare and enter the event for free with crowds cheering and applauding.

I wander to the 9pm side of the city. Over there, I see the LA skyline looming over crisscrossing freeway overpasses. This side of Burningman is empty. Several citizens walk by talking about the rumor that nasty winds blew down Larry Harvey’s statue of the man.

I walk back to 6pm and step over the shoddy fencing again. My phone rings. Answering, I have an elderly woman plead with me to stop calling her. I tell he I am not calling her, but we both discover that someone from the ticket scam is using my number.

Jan. 10, 2012 (Marin Co.)

Dream: Broken Down in Athens, GA

My car breaks down in a poor section joust outside the loop of Southwest Athens, GA. I look at a map to try to figure out where I am going. I see my destination in the Northwest part of the loop. The map calls it “Gay District.” As I stand by my car in the slush, seeing my breath from the cold, local folks ask if they can help. As I begin to ask if they can figure out how to get me a tow truck, I think of AK and wonder if my friends in the NW of the loop are worried about me.

Jan. 9, 2012 (Marin Co.)

I Display Found Mural for Mission Loc@l Article

rap-mural-panels

Article and Photos by Noah Arroyo (more photos on their page)

Artist Russell Howze isn’t sure how they got to Cell Space, but five more pieces of a historic mural series appeared at the art collective on Monday and will be turned over to its caretakers.

Howze said that when he arrived at Cell Space, at 2050 Bryant St., the pieces were in a back room. Continue reading “I Display Found Mural for Mission Loc@l Article”