for the last year or so, maybe more i’ve been thinking a lot about timelines, past lives, future possibilities. (also alien lands, cosmic collapse and rips in the space time continuum). also how a song, a certain wine, a two hour plane ride, can send me backwards or forwards in time.
how many lives i’ve lived, at almost four years past thirty.
how many portals i’ve stepped or stumbled into, that have changed or molded the shape of my world, the landscape of my being. how sometimes i think i can access those many selves, those past versions of me, those past loves, those past homes… and sometimes the overwhelming grief when i can’t
i’m still the same guy, aren’t I? but am i?
the edges of wrinkles there, the edge of my eyes, still framed by a baby face, at this age my mother had already lost her mother, had three babies by now (or just about) – and i’m still “figuring it out”
figuring out how to belong and how to be and what to do in these times to give a life meaning
meaning that, i still don’t really know. as the years roll through i sometimes think (i fear, i obsess, i cry) that i don’t have much to show for it – no house, no job, no ring, no offspring or savings to speak of, no clear sense of direction, just a lot of deep probing questions but
i’m in a show?
showing that i had a silly little dream to Be a Dancer and Make Art and by golly, it looks like i’m doing it, baby’s first group piece in a grad student show.
silly but, it’s something
silly but, when the system is crumbling, sometimes silly and sweet and small and making art together is what’s needed
over the last three months, i’ve been tickled? floored? enamored? by a motley group of movers who have has gathered around me to create an “improvised piece” out of these questions and themes. initially I thought it was about black holes. or portals. a weasel stuck in particle collider. this man channeling an alien named bashar who’s telling us humanity keeps splitting our reality because we choosing wrong.* i had no idea what i was doing – i’ve never “choreographed” a piece before.
*this is not an account that i follow, nor a stance that i claim to be true - it’s ARTISTIC INQUIRY OKAY :P
of course, nothing went as planned. some people were in, but then out, but then in again. the sound artist i’d recently befriended who was down to make our improvised sound suddenly got an offer to perform at a museum in new york. sure cool, but it was the same weekend as OUR show
of course, i was taking it extra extra personally – the show’s on my birthday after all
the arc of the piece mirrored something about the story of my life right now, reinforced a narrative that I cannot get what i want. nothing works out for me, and everything is awful
i told a friend through tears that it was all a disaster. the piece might not even happen
in spite of it all, i kept showing up. to the work of moving with my questions – to the work of being in a process – and so did others
what does it look like to jump across time? to swim through the cosmos? to wake up to the moment? waking up in the forrest, then waking up in the city, and waking up in the far far far past and waking to ourselves as we are right now and how do we know if we’re sleeping? how can we move back into a dream?
presence is the portal.
one of the movers said these words aloud as we looped the sound of our voices saying nonsensical things.
i don’t want to be here. tangled up in the vines, lalala ladeedeeda i can’t hear you. how many portals? time is not a straight line.
presence is the portal
the words struck a cord, a nerve, a deep resonance in the pit of my belly. yes. YES. YES YES YES. this little glimmer of aliveness in a desert of inspiration.
how do we get out of here?
presence is the portal.
how do we shift our collective timeline?
presence is the portal
what’s the plan?
there’s no plan, but there’s presence.
what’s the move?
into and out of and back into presence.
we can’t escape without presence.
we can’t fight without presence
we can’t rebuild without presence.
presence is the portal.
and now here we are, at the night of the show. not sure what will happen… but something will.
here we are also, at the eve before a libra full moon, my solar return, another portal.
no but literally – apparently all the retrogrades are all over, and eclipse season is thru, and now the energy is gonna start MOVING. buckle on up.
my birthday wish for myself, and my full moon wish for us all is for more acceptance and more justice, more dancing and more rest, more dreaming and more presence.
ps. if you wanna honor me or the moon or just do something rly nice in this rly mean moment in time consider donating to either of these two organizations working towards a more just & inclusive & free & more real reality:
TRANSLIFELINE - nationwide peer support phone service run by trans people for trans and questioning folks in need of support
ACLU - fighting for immigrant rights, trans justice, reproductive freedom (& more) in courts and communities across the country
flowers will soon be blooming,
tea