Two More Steps!

Got my USMLE Step 1 result finally. After suffering from weeks of intermittent intense nervousness, glad that I'm able to share this good news that I've PASSED! This is a real good moment to me..and just wanna take this chance to say a big thanks to all the people who have given me support and encouragement..REALLY appreciate them. So, two more steps to go now!=)

The Nature of the City

Today was a pilgrimage kind of day. I started out walking east along 14th Street in hopes of catching the Smithson Floating Island . (For more info visit the Whitney link which has more links and info.)
That's when I came across jelly beans and cigarette butts in the sidewalk - which struck me as visually beautiful on the one hand, and an interesting composition of poisons, age and innocence on the other.

When I got to the river at 14th Street, it was a mass of chain link fence surrounding construction, but I didn't have the energy to head down to Houston, so turned and headed north instead. Just as I did, I caught a glimpse of Floating Island through the chain link until it disappeared behind a mass of metal and construction vehicles on its northward route.
It was one of those divine moments. I had heard that one could expect to wait an hour or two for a sighting, and when I saw all the construction I figured it might not be in the cards for me today. Then as I headed a bit further north, I discovered a wonderful part of the riverside that has been refurbished south of 23rd Street. And the beauty of these pockmarked tiles, corroding into organic designs far more interesting than their original newness.


As I sat to await the return of the trees, I caught a complete dance of the barge and two tugs as the installation manuevered its way to head back down the East River.
I was really struck by the feeling of nature in the city: the water, the wind, and of course those trees floating by. The air was so clean today and smelled of ocean brine. The park closer to 23rd smelled hot and dusty like the desert; a fertile heat that reminds me of the big sky and sagebrush of the southwest.
Its amazing to have that kind of scent memory button pushed when you're in the middle - or the outer perimeter - of a major metropolitan city.
I buried my face in a stand of yellow plants just before noticing that the blossoms were filled with bees. And then stood transfixed for quite a while watching them.



Then I discovered this impossible little beach just below the concrete, inaccessible to all but eye.

Wandering my way back to the apartment across 23rd Street I was struck by the unexpected calm and quiet that comes over me after a hike in the woods. I'd been with the trees, earth, water and sky and hadn't even left the city. I'd barely even left the neighborhood.

FInished!

Pretty much all that's left to do is ship 'em out. I still have to find an appropriate box and shipping materials for the 10 premium pieces, but the 100 (+1 for good luck - I couldn't bear to recount another time, and figure out where my mistake was) limited edition Street Bling are packed and ready to go. Just have to get shipping info which I left on my computer at the office -- and take it to the post office.
I'm a little sad to be letting these all out of my hands. There are quite a few pieces that I'd love to save for myself, but since I'm down to the wire here, I wasn't even able to save a few pieces for people at the office whom I'd planned to gift with a piece in appreciation of their support.
I've documented as much as possible. One of the key things I've learned in this particular process is how much I hate photographing everything. Next time around I'll have to push up my production schedule and leave a week for photography to farm out to Larry. By the time I'm at this stage, I just want everything neatly tied up in a bundle and out of my realm of responsibility. Photographing just pushes me over the edge from love to hatred.
And I'd so much rather be in love.

more street bling

Today I started photographing, tagging and bagging the 110 pieces of Street Bling that Aveda ordered for their upcoming event in October. I am aiming to send them off by Monday at the latest.
I don't really enjoy the documentation process. Taking photographs of the pieces is problematic. Mostly because I don't have the right equipment. My digital camera is great, but gets a bit of hand shake for this kind of work. And while I once rigged a really great photo studio by setting up in a tent in the back yard (the tent provided perfect light filtration to take the glare off), in the city I'm using natural light coming in the window and trying to rig a scrim with a room divider. It's not ideal, but I do the best I can. And have decided to move on to tagging and bagging all the pieces, and perhaps photographing them once back home for the weekend. That means a bit of undoing what's already been done, but I've always said I'm process oriented. So process it will be.
It's actually been fun for me to take this a step at a time, and make my discoveries. I loved printing the tags; cutting them wasn't as satisfying. Now I am signing and numbering the tags, which is gratifying. I like repetitive actions, but find I need to break them up into smaller units. 25 or so at a time is enough to keep me joyful and moving along. Baby steps.
I still have quite a few more pieces to make, so I will still be scrambling a bit this weekend. I imagine, like getting ready for an exhibition, there's no avoiding a bit of chaos in the final preparations.

Katrina

I got this email in my inbox today, and am posting it because it was the first time I was inspired to actually get out my credit card. I've been agonizing somewhat about how best to help. I know the Red Cross is a safe bet, and I will probably send them some money and clothing as well. Habitat for Humanity is another organization who will be in there rebuilding.

ACTFORCHANGE ACTIVISM UPDATE: September 14, 2005

Political Justice for Hurricane Families

Shame on America. The horror of Katrina has revealed, not just to this nation but to the world, the growing fissures between the working poor and the ultra-rich, between African American and white citizens, between those who had the resources to get out of New Orleans and those who were left to drown.

You've given to relief. Now it's time to stand with those who were left behind to ensure that when the next Katrina hits, America does not fail the least among us. There are three ways to give.

Tell Washington: The common good depends on good government


Give now: $5 will help us put this billboard up in Grover Norquist's neighborhood


After you've given money to help evacuees with basic human needs, make a $5 donation to send a message to Washington, D.C. Our lawmakers need to know that the common good depends upon good government. Your token contribution of $5 will help us put this shocking graphic on a billboard outside of Grover Norquist's office at Americans for Tax Reform where 100 influential conservative leaders hold a weekly strategy session each Wednesday.




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Reunite families brutally separated by the haphazard and too-late evacuation

Give now: $99, $199, or $299 buys a one-way ticket to reunite a family tomorrow.


During the evacuation, mothers -- almost exclusively African American -- had to choose between remaining with older children and carrying infants to safety. Extended families boarded separate buses, unsure of their fate, only to find themselves separated by thousands of miles and trapped in shelters with no way out. Husbands and wives, parents and children, now in shelters, have to endure the continuing trauma of separation. You can reunite a family today by helping us buy one-way airline tickets which we are providing, without bureaucratic red tape, to families in shelters identified by our friends at the NAACP, ACORN and other groups on the ground.




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Help evacuees organize to demand a say in relief funds and reconstruction efforts

Give now: Don't let the government leave evacuees behind again.

As Van Jones of the Ella Baker Center puts it, the governing philosophy of the people who run our government is sink or swim for almost everybody unless you are a crony, and then different rules apply. We must act now to ensure that evacuees have a say in how resources are allocated to survivors and to protect the long-term redevelopment of New Orleans and other Gulf Coast communities from opportunistic cronyism. Corporations with close ties to those in power -- like Halliburton -- cannot be allowed to treat disaster recovery efforts as a corporate ATM. Humane treatment of survivors demands more than a handout -- it demands a sea change in politics as usual.

Make one donation to our Political Justice for Survivors fund and we'll support a range of local community-based organizations who won't pack up and leave once the media spotlight goes away. These groups include:


ACORN supports the political organizing of evacuees to get the respect they deserve from local and national political representatives and fight for humane treatment. A national network of community organizations, ACORN is headquartered in New Orleans and has been particularly hit hard by this tragedy.


New Orleans People's Committee was convened by Black community activists and organizers of color from Community Labor United. The goal of the committee is to unite evacuees to demand a role in reviewing and influencing how resources are allocated on behalf of survivors and to fight for decision-making power in the long-term redevelopment of New Orleans.


Long after the aid agencies and relief volunteers have gone, the New Orleans Network, Sparkplug Foundation, Biloxi-based Gulf Coast Community Foundation, and the Baton Rouge Area Foundation will still be working on the ground to help evacuees and the families of hurricane survivors as they forge new lives in the wake of Katrina.

the computer and the paper cutter

After my initial angst, I am now rockin' and rolling with Street Bling, having moved on from creating the pieces - well, 12 more to go I discovered last night in a recount - to making tags and figuring out packaging. So I've spent most of the weekend in front of the computer or sprawled out on the floor with the paper cutter. This is what cottage industry and life as an artist is all about.
A little help (well, lots actually) from my friend Sanae in designing the hang tag, which I've noodled into a few sizes for versatility, and I'm a step closer to pulling this project together.
Some may read the above and think: well why not figure all this out before hand? But the fact is that I've never done anything on this scale before - except perhaps getting ready for craft and art shows. And every time I do something of this nature, I get a little more experience and a little better at it. It's part of what I call "Wildcrafting Your Life" - one of the workshops in my Magic Medicine series. It's all about living and creating the way ancient peoples moved with the seasons and herds they hunted. Gathering what comes our way and choosing to focus on what's important in the moment, or season of our lives, and trusting that we need not be perfect from the get go. We will find exactly what we need. Exactly when we need it. It's always here.
Earlier in the week I got a lovely e-mail from artist Earl Bronsteen, whose work I blogged about in July. He found my post about him in a blog search engine, and is sending me a copy of his "How to Become a Famous Artist", which is available on his website as a downloadable file. It's a great read, and while working this weekend, I realized that a good deal of what I'm doing these days should qualify me as a famous artist. Much of what I'm working on is ephemeral and repetitive and made from garbage. So I'm thinking that what Earl does better than just about anyone is get his name out there by doing things like getting in touch with someone out of the blue who's blogged about him. It's given me that little moment of insight. To be your own marketing and PR person just takes a little more guts and a little less fear. Who cares what people think of us? If we are doing what we love, and putting it out there with love. That may sound a bit corny, but think about it. Why else would we be here? Why are you on the planet?

Yesterday on the motorcycle, I finally remembered to start chanting on our way back from a few errands, and had forgotten that the helmet has fabulous acoustics. (We haven't been riding all that much this summer because Larry's had a hand injury. But this time of year is really the best anyway.) Something in the way the wind wizzes by and my voice bouncing off all the cushioning causes a bounce back that sounds like I've got back up singers.
It's a great feeling. And I'm thinking we all have back up singers in our lives. We just have to hear them, feel them, trust that their presence is always with us.
Today, of course, is a day most of us will never forget. And what I remember most to be honest, is that the weather was as perfect as it's ever been. There was a dreamlike quality to the presence of day, as if it were not really possible. So beautiful and horrible at once. And this year with another large scale human tragedy so fresh in our minds, I am reminded of Joseph Campbell's famous words, paraphrased here: that we must learn to take joy in the sorrows of the world.

A multi-post

It's been a surprisingly art filled week. My walk around Soho at lunchtime on Tuesday started it off with a street art theme.
First I came across this truck with its mobile sculpture.

Then, this striking doorway with the ubiquitous OBEY posters that I pass often, but never before noticed the palms.


Across from Deitch I saw a man and woman writing on a billboard, and apparently leaving lots of Post-Its behind. (They all had MEMORY written on them.) Upon following the link scrawled on the wall, I came to the site of anonymous art.



On my way back to the office, I noticed this little bit of art in the composition of, and on a hydrant.

Wednesday I was able to take a few pics of these lovely lampshades that have been up in Washington Square Park all summer. I just love them. Especially at night when they are lit, they are a delightful bit of jewlery on the otherwise sad looking street lamps.

Tonight I went to Paulette Lust's opening at Riot. Her handpainted silks are vibrant and beautiful. My favorite was the giraffes. Their tropical feel was a perfect end of summer night's stage for her husband Gerard's new premium cachaca, Leblon, and caipirinia's expertly made by hand one at a time. This could be the next hot spirit. Also check out Paulette's other art: coffee.

All Night

To be honest, I'm not sure I'm ready to process the experience of the all night ecstatic chant at Omega yet, but I know how time moves. And it's likely that I'll never get a chance to process it at all. So here goes.
The photo above is of Krishna Das, Ty Burhoe (on tablas at left) and gives you an idea of how the stage is set for kirtan. Well at Omega anyway. Basically, the performers or kirtan walas, as they are called, are on a platform just slightly above everyone else seated on the floor around them in a semi circle.
There were 200+ participants in the ecstatic chant workshop, so the headcount for last night's all nighter was likely closer to 300, including the Omega staff who never miss a chance to chant with KD, Deva Premal and Miten, Wah!, plus Robert Gass, Shyamdas, and Steve Gorn who welcomed us into the dawn with classic Indian ragas played on flute.
I've only been chanting for about a year now. My first experiences were at Omega, first during a staff kirtan, and later with KD. Now, I chant as often as possible, but chanting to a cd is completely different from being in the room with all the energy that rises from people literally singing their hearts out. And the line up above is of world class performers guided by deeply spiritual practices. They are all artists who have followed the paths to their art, and heart. The stories they have to tell, like all artists, and all spiritual seekers, are stories of mountains and valleys, dark places and light, stories that inspire us to follow our own hearts, and find our own paths to the art of our lives.
Kirtan or chanting is an expression of Bhakti yoga, the yoga of devotion. And I've really never experienced anything quite like it. My rational mind will tell you that it connects me to childhood experiences of singing at camp, and feeling connected before one even knows what it is like to feel disconnected. But the truth is, while chanting I have felt my heart open, and last night, even explode (in a good way!). I wrote down this short quote from Krishna Das to remind myself what chanting is all about:
"Chanting removes the dust on the mirror of our hearts. [It reminds us] that everything we long for is possible. Everything has already happened. We are here."
I didn't actually stay up all night. Not many people did. (There were bodies sprawled and curled up everywhere, in sleeping bags, blankets and shawls.) But after staying awake as long as possible, probably somewhere around 1 or 2am, I began drifting in and out, chanting myself to sleep and stirring to the sound of chant, tabla and flute -- it was dream-like.
There were two tables filled with fruit (which is a traditional offering or prasad), organic biscotti, cookies, and chai. Keeping hydrated is especially important when you're chanting. It's a huge expenditure of energy, so I was up and out every hour or so, enjoying the exquisite end of summer night sky. The field next to Omega's main hall is a great place for star-gazing, and last night's gaze was just glorious.
I had intended to take a few short walks, but was reeled in by the chant. And the warmth of voices, bodies and drum beat.
The rhythm of the night moved seamlessly from sweet sacred chants sung like love songs, to all out jamming, everyone-on-their-feet clapping. A number of the chants were dedicated to the victims of the hurricane, and as we all lay sprawled out on the floor of our own volition, we were reminded of how very blessed we were to be there this night. As Krishna Das said, early on in the night, "Welcome to another day on Earth."

Headway

As I wrote to a friend in an e-mail earlier this evening, there's nothing like having to create a predetermined number of pieces, to meet a particular deadline, for a specific sum of money to take the fun out of something. And while sitting down to work tonight took all day, there is also nothing like the joy of creating something that you really love to put the fun back in.
I thought this piece was done, and it was already hanging with all the rest, but something made me pull it down and start noodling with it a bit more, replacing a silver wrapped stick with turkey feathers and wooden beads. The piece really came alive for me, and now everything I've done so far looks even better.
I think I have about 14 more pieces to go. Mostly the basic found metal pieces which are becoming a chore precisely because they require less effort.
I'm a big proponent of walking away from things for a while and coming back to them fresh. Although I understand the value of tenacity and focus, I truly believe that hunkering down and pushing oneself isn't always the way to accomplish one's best work.
I've learned the value of slowing down and not being hell bent on the finish line. (Though truth be told, it's a whole lot easier to relax when the end is in sight and not some distant still unforseeable goal. Funny thing is, a few days - sometimes a few hours - can make all the difference in the world!)
I'm in awe of artists who can sit down to work for 8, 10, 12 hours at a clip. It's just not my style. But who's to say? Maybe if I were a studio artist who could work all day and not jump from one thing to the next out of necessity, I'd be able to summon up that kind of focus and happily work in the zone for hours at a time. Maybe I'll even be blessed enough one day to have that luxury. I know that while I am at Omega as artist in residence each summer, it's a joy to spend hours alone working without distraction for days on end. The project I started while there in May still awaits my return. Perhaps this winter when things slow and settle down.
In the mean time, one of the things I am enjoying about being home all week is having the time and space to blog more.