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Greener than You? phase 2

2010-06-03T12:45:00.000-07:00

The opening was fantastic and I'm having a closing show on June 12th from 5 to 8.

Milepost 5

900 NE 81st Ave

Artist's Statement

The ideology of Green is an idea where we find comfort even though we have unease at the same time. Ideology is always based on the fantasy of the ideal, of course making it impossible. To be fully Green is death. We have multiple identity-based ideologies and in order to be any one of them completely we would have to shave off vital parts of ourselves. I know I don’t want to do that. Balancing our ideologies is definitely something I struggle with, but I know it’s not a winning game, so I need to learn how to be comfortable in knowing I can’t win. We think of being Green as our own and forget the systemic nature of how it has become something to be. Our ideologies are usually places where we find comfort, enjoy being, and can congratulate ourselves for getting it even if we sometimes don’t. I guess that’s why we maintain them. I love Green not because I’m a gung ho environmentalist, instead I love it because there’s a certain hope in not knowing how to think about it yet.

I know, but I do it anyway

2010-04-14T16:09:00.000-07:00

Lately, I've been working on a concept I'm calling "I know, but I do it anyway" and have really enjoyed thinking about how the work is leading me to more acceptance. Too often we/I think how if only folks would have more awareness or education or time they would be more apt to make better decisions. I imagine the proletariat throwing off their proverbial shackles and rising up, but maybe we know and we make the same harmful/self-indulgent decisions anyway. Sometimes though we know something but another part of identity isn't able to comfortably allow this new knowledge to be acted on. Maybe it's this internal conflict that makes it impossible to be outside of a "I know, but I do it anyway" performance. Or maybe this is a way for me to ignore the need to change and if I do it through an art series it becomes a legitimate possibility.

Talking in Circles

2010-02-09T11:34:00.000-08:00

This last Sunday, Feb. 5th, I gave a presentation at Research Club a super fun, cool, engaging, and informative project by Nim Wunnan and Mariah Maines at Brian T. Wilson's Tribute Gallery. I presented a new project I'm calling Talking in Circles which is a discussion/storytelling group that will focus on one ist/ism each month beginning March 21st. The first will be "Race: Let's be Civilized." The following is roughly what I presented although I can't really remember how I did it exactly because it was mostly improvised outside the slide reminders.

We're all Oppressors

Oppress: to burden with unjust impositions or restraints
We see people as individuals amongst individuals
We see people as part of a larger group/culture
We're both and both are very oppressive

How did I become one of the best oppressors out there?

Thinking Liberal studies would set me free
Became well equipped with boxes to put folks in, "respectfully."

Victim statuses are nice, but not all of me

We/I often celebrate victims for survival and in turn demonize the oppressors making it shameful to acknowledge that part of ourselves
Acknowledge how we oppress similar to how we acknowledge anger. It is better to say, "I am sometimes angry" rathher than saying, "I don't get angry."
We do this a lot with our ists and isms, namely racism.

So what is needed?

Why did I just show a picture of myself showering?

I was just swimming in salt water.
Then I was walking around and it wasn't very comfortable.
I couldn't get all of the salt water off, but enough to make it comfortable for me to walk around not constantly thinking about the salt water that was chaffing.
I learned/became comfortable with the tactic of opening the back of my shorts to wash off from the guy who is now watch me do to reduce the amount chaffing. And it looks like he might be learning from me too.

My goal is to be at peace with my racist, sexist, heterosexist, ability-ist, and ageist self.

My former self that was overt in my ist and isms.
And my current self that still is at times overt but has a lot of struggles of how to balance and accept the internal dialogue of having so many labels/boxes that sometimes compete with each other.
My self-hate must go somewhere.

We cannot forget our history unless we summon the strength to remember it properly. - Slavoj Zizek

This is a picture of when I was 20 and I went to Disney World with some friends. I hate lines, as much as anyone I guess, and we decided to wrap my ankle with an ace bandage and rent a wheelchair to jump to the front of the line. We went to Epcot with the wheelchair and visited the various countries eventually ditching it in Germany. Here I am holding some tchochky from Holland town pretending I am the recipient of the Make a Wish Foundation. My look is sad and my friends are smiling trying to cheer me up because that is the stereotype we were playing with 14 years ago.

For some reason even though I am saying we need to own our ist and ism selves I still find the need to point out this was 14 years ago, maybe it's because I'm wearing a Tommy Hilfiger shirt and I don't want anyone to think I would still wear one, especially with the logo plastered on the front.

This is also at Epcot and this must be after Germany because there is no wheelchair. I'm in Japan land and have some japanese accessories to go with my squinted eyes.

So, what does it look like today for you Gabe, give some examples?

Waiting room watching, "Are You Smarter Than a 5th Grader?" The other day I was in a waiting room and this Smarter was on in closed captioning. The host is Jeff Foxworthy the guy who does the stand-up "then you're a redneck" bit and has a contestant who is African-American. Everytime the contestant gets a question right he does this running man dance and then does a centipede like arm movement that spans both arm lengths. My immediate internal response was hoping those watching were not thinking this was a modern day minstrel and that he's not another J.J. for them to get some laughs out of. This was followed by wondering why I felt I needed to protect this guy that I don't know and who doesn't know me and who maybe is ok in his own identity not to care.
Gabe, why don't you speak Spanish? I've taken 3 years of college Spanish and two years in high school, I should speak some, but I don't. I realize now, within the last 4 month, that I signed-up for the classes hoping I would be ok with that part of myself that has Mexican heritage but once in the class with people wondering why I don't speak or people assume right off that I do that I wasn't ready for the internal conversation yet. Part of me likes that I don't speak because that means that I don't have to fully accept that part that doesn't have as much privilege. If I can just fit in then maybe people won't identify this other part of me. Growing up as a Jehovah's Witness we didn't really get into our cultural heritage and our friends were primarily white, so there would be no real shared experience if we did. I've had plenty of opportunities since then though and haven't really capitalized on them. Maybe because I would feel like an imposter to do so. Who knows but I'm glad that I'm starting to ask those questions.

What do I need and how can you help?

Talking one on one
Challenge me
Biggest part of my process is getting help from others
Attendance to Talking in Circles beginning March 21st
After first Talking in Circles in March repeat the above

That was pretty much the presentation.

The first Talking in Circles will be March 21st and will be titled "Race: Let's be Civilized." I am very excited, especially after Research Club because it made me really think about and formulate what it is that I am getting at for the discussion/storytelling group.

Greener than U? revisted

2010-02-09T09:17:00.000-08:00

I'm been thinking a lot about Greener than U? and how the idea of comfort or being at peace is this newish vein in my work. I had previously been striving a bit for the uncomfortable non-win situation, but had never really gotten to what come next. Well, I guess what is next is becoming comfortable with the acknowledgment that you can't win.

When I thinking about winning it's primarily with ideology which is directly connected to how we formulate and thinking about ists and isms.

If I can become more comfortable or at peace with my whole contradictory self stepping firmly planting myself in opposing parts of me maybe I'll breathe better.

I'll be revisiting Greener than U? for the months of May and June of 2010 at the main loft space at Milepost 5. I'm really looking forward to it. I ejnoy using the ideology of green for comfort because we're not afraid of it yet. It's new and we still are trying figure it all out, which means we are a little more forgiving. I use green because unlike talking about racism, sexism, heterosexism, ageism, etc., we are more accepting of not winning. So you don't buy local or organic, but you bike and use your own bag and your bag is from IKEA, no problem at least you're trying, that seems to be the attitude at least. Talking about race, gender, and sexuality don't really give us the room to see us as an oppressor, we have to find the oppressor in others. Greener than U? is a bit of a first step in seeing that we cannot be ideology fully and that is ok and part of how ideology works. To be ideology completely is death, like all other fantasy based desire.

Recycling Retreat

2010-02-08T22:31:00.000-08:00

I'm Calling It a Retreat I felt, wasn't the type of show I need to keep. I guess all series are kind of like that, but I lived with Retreat being stored in my room for about a year and half and they take up quite a bit of room. I enjoyed them and I enjoyed showing them. I'll always have those early mornings near St. Helens, those evening walks around the track with some friends, and the jaring memory of this crazy guy that I called Tater Tot who was a total and complete heterosexist. I really can't stand that guy. I need to write about him.

Back to Retreat. I don't really miss the work since I dismantled it in December '09, but I do wonder why I had the need to recycle it. Maybe to get rid of evidence, but there are plenty of pictures. Maybe because the materials used were very crude or it was so different than the aesthetic that I'm usually drawn to. In that case, I wonder if I was embarrassed by the materials. I often felt the need to explain why I chose them and I wouldn't usually feel the need to do so in other work. I usually have a lot more pride in the material used and when folks respond to the use of mahogany or bamboo I take it as a compliment, I don't think it felt the same using paper, cardboard, ink, and various organic materials.

I am happy that I created a series that was hard to store while I was in rehab, an unlikely place to do so. My part of the room was filled with these hard to store boxes. When folks would ask what I was making I would usually just respond with, "I'm making spaceship." They would chuckle, but some knew about my experience having auditory, visual, and tactile alternative perceptions (some would say hallucinations), so they might have believed that I believed I was making a spaceship. Who knows. The work has by now been composted, crushed, and made into the next thing. Maybe part of it will visit me again and I won't even know it. That's a nice thought.

Thanks for playing.

Detailed Photos from "I'm Calling It a Retreat"

2010-02-08T21:22:00.000-08:00

I just realized I never really put up decent detailed photos of my October/November show I'm Calling It a Retreat. I really enjoyed putting this work out there and I'm very happy the Q Center was into showing something a little different. I made this work while I was in residential treatment for a couple of months in 2008 for alcohol addiction and while I was there I started fiddling around with what I had available, mainly recycled cleaning supply boxes, moleskin paper, and random organic debris. The treatment center was NARA located on 17 acres going toward St. Helens and they really try to get a good fit for what each client needs. I ended up using this work as part of my process. I dismantled the work in December of 2009 and recycled all it except the the individual pieces of moleskin paper. Those might come in handy later.

And here is the artist's statement just incase you missed it in an earlier post:

There are no gimmicks in this show. I created the work with extremely limited resources. In 2008 I spent 9 weeks in a Native American based rehab for alcohol abuse and this work is my process of trying to navigate my identity and my efforts to find a connected form of treatment. I’m a gay atheist who was raised as a Jehovah’s Witness, so I am immediately distrusting of groupthink and lack of questioning that sometimes happens in rehab. Going to the 17 acres near St. Helens was my white flag. It hasn’t been the easiest path since leaving residential treatment, but I think I’ve found a rhythm that works well for me.

At this point in an artist’s statement my normal song and dance would be to show how I am an oppressor and how there is no winning the label game, but this is a different type of show. In this show there is no winning because it’s not a label game, it’s my life and it’s futile to point out that I’m an oppressor because in this context I think I’ve been hard enough on myself already. Sometimes I need to just allow myself to win, even if it’s just for the months of October and November of ‘09.

People see what they need to see, but it doesn't change what it is.

Everything my whole life depends on one thing?

Am I still somehow a Jehovah's Witness?

I resent folks that don't even exist.

There is no power greater than myself!

We affirm we have the power.

We are at home here?

I'm a duck? Why do I always have to be the duck?

My Process

2010-01-18T01:59:00.000-08:00

Currently I'm in a show at the Art Institute in the Pearl. It was a very last minute show, so I pulled out some Traveling through Time pieces I had. I really like this work and I'm working on collecting more images for a big show in 2011. The show's theme though is interesting to me because it's on process. My work is highly dependent on others' skill and commentary. I admire artists who work more isolated because they have a confidence I lack I guess. And they probably don't have someone proof their artist's statements and bio either. Here is what's show down at the Art Institute until the end of the month.

Please click on the photos for a better view. The images are amazing, but I'm still debating on the morality of capitalizing on someone else's struggle.

My process is fairly simple. I work very conceptually. I start with a phrase or observation and go from there. In this work a friend and myself noticed the Traveling through Time campaign on Tri-met and started looking at the folks represented in the images. My friend, Rachael Wilson and I went to the Oregon Historical Society to look at their slides to see if we could find alternatives to the Tri-met images showing people of more color. We found 12 images right off. So far I have 26 images and my goal is 36 for a show in 2011.

The biggest part of my process is help from others. My sister Nova Moisa used her crazy Photoshop skills and recreated the Trimet logo. Nova also helped in the printing of the photos because I had never done that before. A friend of mine Jerry Gilmer helped me make the frames for the work and pretty much helps me create anything I need out of wood, metal, fiberglass, resin, pretty much if it exists Jerry can find a way to make it. Friends and family help me in making the concepts strong through long and thorough conversations questioning every part of the work’s message.

I make art because there is something I want to say and it’s often heard best through art.

Traveling through Time - Artist's Statement

How is that we portray history in a way that makes us feel safe and doesn’t open up old misgivings? Usually by leaving out the history of those who were subject to oppression. Of course it’s common place to discuss “a people’s history” that tells the story of those not as victorious and we then demonize the victor for being racist, classist, sexist, etc. It’s easy to do so from our vantage with hindsight bias acting as our liaison between our history and our own stories, in turn making questions of the -isms and -ists seem as if we’ve already covered the topics. We look to the Red States, the rural, the South as our new touchstone for our own oppressive behavior. We need them because without them we only have ourselves as the touchstone for oppression and that’s no fun. Tri Met of course couldn’t present these photos because they have to depict a safe history where we all got along where we all had access. They can do this by not having reminders of how cruel Oregonians were to people of more color. I wish there was a nicer more polite way to way to say it. Tri Met isn’t to blame for not showing minorities in their campaign because not all minorities want the reminder either. From my perspective though, I think it is kind of sad that to feel safe we can’t show folks of more color.

My current Bio

I enjoy looking at how I might be congratulating myself a bit too much. I wonder about my attempts at creating balance for myself where I can be content and then seeing how oppressive and closed that feeling can be. In the end I find the most satisfaction when I can displace myself momentarily and see myself as an oppressor, which is usually followed by seeing myself as a poser. The thing I’m most scared of is groupthink and I know that can make me sometimes pretty intolerable, my apologies in advance.

Launchpad hope

2009-10-26T08:13:00.000-07:00

I really enjoy the group shows at Launchpad Gallery because they give me a chance to make something I've been wanting to experiment with and get some feedback. I did this piece for their current Family show and played around with how the family starts with the individual. I've been really curious how vulnerable I am willing to get or if what I'm doing is considered vulnerable at all. I know I have a lot of support from my family and they give me the feeling of an incredibly strong safety net where it seems nearly impossible to really fall, at least too hard. Having family and family-like friends makes all the difference in what I create. I can't ever be too telling of their story and must only look at mine because that is being a responsible member. I can tell any part of my story, even though they would really know if the part I'm sharing is truly being vulnerable or if I'm being a bit of a revisionionist. This does happen. I'm also curious if because I know that I'll have support if I'm bearing myself that it is becoming another version of a gimmick. Do I really believe I'm telling something of myself or is this what I'm believing others believe see as being vulnerable so am just doing a dance that only resembles vulnerability? I guess I would see vulnerability as less performance. I'm an eager perfomer. The piece I did for LaunchpadGallery is titled "Hope" and is priceless. This feels more like a gimmick to me. I liked initially and felt that I'm not sure I really want to have people see what medications because they are my pill bottles with "hope" written on each pill. After the piece was up and even before the show opened I was ok with the idea. I was no longer feeling vulnerable about the works' material instead only if it would be considered as anything. So I guess I was still feeling vulnerable about the work. The closing party for the show at Launchpad Gallery will be on Nov 1st from 12 - 3 534 SE Oak St in Portland.

Opening "I'm Calling It a Retreat"

2009-10-23T19:12:00.000-07:00

The opening was a lot fun. Here are some photos. The Q Center has been absolutely wonderful to me. Even though my show is there I often don't feel as if I belong, not just there but most places. Here I do. I attended Cabaret the other night and had a total blast. It was like being in church with Bob the minister directing and Glen on the piano proselytizing the holiness of broadway. It was a sing-a-long with books provided with the lyrics, someone sang "Part of Your World" from the Little Mermaid and everyone pretty much looked up from their songbooks and sang. I remember being in middle school and high school and really wanting to be in drama, but not allowed because of the time it would take away from the ministry. I would instead get other Witness kids together and do songs with the lyrics changed to fit the occasion we'd perform such as anniversaries, going away parties, appreciation parties, etc. I remember doing "No Part of Their World": Look at this book, isn't it neat, aren't you glad this collection's complete, etc. I wish I could find the lyrics to all the songs I made into things I could perform without taking away from the ministry of course.

I'm glad the Q Center is there for all those folks who went without and for all those that still need their fix. Thanks Paul and Glen for making it a very pleasant and welcoming experience.

I'll be having a closing party on Nov. 28th from 3 - 5.

Beach

2009-10-22T19:30:00.000-07:00

Hanging out with everyone in Walport was a total blast. There is something I love about being in the Ocean at any time of the year. I need to get in and be immersed everytime I go. I don't plan to, but first the shoes come off then the shirt and then I'm in.

It was a lot of fun hanging out with Lilly and Levi and making our Tee Pee. They both totally impressed me with their creativity and willingness to be totally silly.

I don't think I could ever live in a small town, but I've considered Manzanita. I'm a romantic and Manzanita plays into most of my desire based fantasies. I think I'll leave it a fantasy.

I can't believe that we found a decomposed beaver and Levi carried it the whole way back to where we were working. I thought it was gross, but was not at all afraid of it. I was afraid of it.

Hi beaver, can you see the beaver?

Maybe it's my lifestyle but it seems like most times I go to the beach I need to work. My lifestyle isn't really a worker bee one, but I love to make stuff and see what can be done with only the materials on hand.

Lilly was the key person for applying sea weed and wrapping them around the wood for stability.

There is our tee pee.

I love the orange teeth.

Catching the wind.

Yay! Interview at pdxart with Richard Schemmerer

2009-09-28T11:45:00.000-07:00

Here is a link to my interview with Richard Schemmerer of pdxart. Very fun process. Thanks so much Richard!

I’m Calling it a Retreat

2009-09-22T18:28:00.000-07:00

Artist's Statement

There are no gimmicks in this show. I created the work with extremely limited resources. In 2008 I spent 9 weeks in a Native American based rehab for alcohol abuse and this work is my process of trying to navigate my identity and my efforts to find a connected form of treatment. I’m a gay atheist who was raised as a Jehovah’s Witness, so I am immediately distrusting of groupthink and lack of questioning that sometimes happens in rehab. Going to the 17 acres near St. Helens was my white flag. It hasn’t been the easiest path since leaving residential treatment, but I think I’ve found a rhythm that works well for me.

At this point in an artist’s statement my normal song and dance would be to show how I am an oppressor and how there is no winning the label game, but this is a different type of show. In this show there is no winning because it’s not a label game, it’s my life and it’s futile to point out that I’m an oppressor because in this context I think I’ve been hard enough on myself already. Sometimes I need to just allow myself to win, even if it’s just for the months of October and November of ‘09.

Mug

2009-09-04T18:03:00.000-07:00

I was looking for a coffee mug to take to my new favorite place Cartola, which is at 7th and Knott down the street from my house. This is going to be the mug that I use for my usual prepaid drip coffee with a double add shot. I am going to be living with this mug and it will be attached to me as part of my identity and this what I’m struggling with. Do I go with the ironic mug, the sleek design mug, the “virgo” mug, or the basic mug; they all say something and there is no simply choosing without me wondering what that says about myself. Even if I were to go with a selection of mugs I would still have to select which mug most represents me on which day. I’ve looked all over and will be on Etsy later tonight trying to locate something that speaks to me. I’m sure I will choose something that has a touch of irony, a dash of sleekness, and whim of I don’t give a shit, which is of course a lie because I really do

Manor of Art "Greener" Again

2009-08-17T17:31:00.001-07:00

Here are more photos of the Manor of Art show "Greener than You?" at Milepost 5.

Greener than who

2009-08-15T14:18:00.000-07:00

Greener Than You?

Artist Statement

The ideology of Green is an idea where we find comfort even though we have unease at the same time. Ideology is always based on the fantasy of the ideal, of course making it impossible. To be fully Green is death. We can only see parts of this ideology and hope to find satisfaction in the part we know. Or we choose to ignore parts because it’s just too much to be sometimes. It becomes a comfortable yet contentious part of us. We think of being Green as our own and forget the systemic nature of how it has become something to be. Our ideologies are usually places where we find comfort, enjoy being, and can congratulate ourselves for getting it even if we sometimes don’t. I guess that’s why we maintain them.

Opening night was great. Had a really nice time and people seemed to enjoy the show.

Greener than You?

2009-08-12T20:45:00.000-07:00

Just some images from "Greener than You?" the show that's at Milepost 5's Manor of Art show.
These are just build up pics.
Will post more later.

Where I Stand

2009-04-19T23:38:00.000-07:00

Here is were I was placed by Political Compass. The graph shows it. Yeah, that's right . . . don't fuck with me because I might peacefully protest with a permit holding tastefully created signs that are self congratulatory. If we don't see eye to eye oh yeah you can expect that there will be long conversations over coffee about how we can possibly accept each others differences (i.e. I will judge you with my acceptance because if I really accepted than I wouldn't need to talk to you about our "differences"). Don't mess with me.

I'm Calling it a Retreat

2009-04-16T22:33:00.000-07:00

My art show scheduled for May at Q Center has been postponed until October. I'm kinda happy about it because I'm trying a few new things and hoping they work as far as keeping clarity goes.

I just started to take a sleeping medication, which I love because I never really want to go to my bed. I guess really I fear going to bed. In the last 5 and half years my bed has been a bit of a horror show because sometimes I could feel something on it. I could feel something moving on it like foot steps or some sort of a weight next me as I try to get to sleep. I try to concentrate on something else, but needless say it is a little distracting when you're trying to sleep. I forgot how nice it is to get a really good nights sleep.

Not having to show until October will give me the chance to focus on other things and really try to implement some healthier choices for myself. I would prefer for this work to be a reflective piece of a previous history and not a current one. Although if it ends up being a current one that would be ok.

There are 9 pieces in this series that catalog my experience at NARA's residential treatment center. I created them as a response to whatever I was feeling that week, and I was there for 9 weeks. I didn't have any art supplies except for some charcoal pieces and pencils. I used whatever I had available on site, so that is why there is cardboard, tree debris, and mole skin paper. I'm very happy with this work and I think I might call the series "Not For the Fire Circle" because since NARA is native focused many there thought I was creating things to be burned as a sacrament for the ceremonial Fire Circle. They also appear to be ready to be burned, something that might be used to start a fire.

The writing on the scrolled paper is a phrase or two of what I was thinking about that week. So the first week I was really wondering about judgements. I, and everyone else there, would ask what is your drug of choice, are you court ordered, is this your first time at a treatment center. All of this information goes into our personal files to place people in categories we feel comfortable with. "Oh, you're a heroin addict who just got out of prison and was court ordered to be at NARA and it's your 4th time through, nice to meet you." I also noticed that the staff/counselors would respond too quickly to peoples questions/confessions to the point that they already knew what to say and were on judgment autopilot.

People See What They Need To See, But It Doesn't Change What It Is.

The first piece I created from a green box I found in the recycling bin. And then I started collecting willow and bark and taking small pieces of wood from the wood pile to be sanded and then drawn on. Once I put them together I began to scroll paper and place them in the willow bound bundle. People would come up and ask what is it, and I would ask them to guess. Most said it was something for the Fire Circle. I realized in the context of being on 17 acres near the river at a Native focused treatment center they would be more apt to want to see it as something relevant to the space.

After asking folks what they saw I realized that we see what we want to see, so I started to write three sentences over and over, "People see what they want to see, but it doesn't change what it is. People see what they have to see, but it doesn't change what it is. People see what they need to see, but it doesn't change what it is." I felt this captured how I was judging folks or at least placing them in convenient boxes.

Everything I Have, My Whole Life, Depends On One Thing?

We Affirm We Have The Power - side view

We Are At Home Here

We Are At Home Here - side view

I've been debating on naming the show, "I"m Calling It A Retreat" because it was a way to get away nearly completely.

I look forward to having the show in October and maybe I'll make some similarly themed worked because creating these are very calming and meditative.

Paint chip gifts

2009-04-14T22:39:00.000-07:00

I've been going to Lowe's lately just collecting paint samples. I posted previously how we decorated my mom's tree this year using paint samples as the gifts and ornaments and I'm trying see what else I can make. I'm sure tons, but here are some images that I didn't add when I blogged about it earlier. I think I'd like to make some monsters or butterflies for my friend's daughter's room.

The lit tree

Ornament - Colors used for table and hovel

Ornaments - Wood was scrap from hovel

Gifts

Gifts

Gifts

I was clearing photos from my camera and was reminded of these.

Chairs

2009-04-14T19:40:00.000-07:00

Here are a few before and after pics of the chairs I'm working on. There are a total of 29 chairs and this last week I just worked on sanding most of them. I had 3 completed already before this weekend for my mom's vacation rental apartment, so that is what I'm showing you. The remaining chairs I will hopefully have done this next weekend and they'll end up being a version of sky blue.

Before

Here is what they will look like, but blue.

The Royal ReRun

2009-04-09T22:07:00.000-07:00

Spending the weekend in McMinnville to do a little work in the shop on a group of chairs purchased over at ReRun. My mom had purchased 3 chairs initially and then she bought 5 more. My sister ended up buying 19 of these all of which I'll be refurbishing. While I was over there to get the first 3 chairs with my mom there was a woman who was bringing in boxes for consignment. As she was coming in she had a box and was struggling with the door for a little bit. I was heading out to look at the chairs we were putting on hold and opened the door for her. There had been a few people around that hadn't helped her with the door and as I hold it open for the gal she tells how happy chivalry isn't dead and how several people didn't help her. I hate when people bring up chivalry, which just underlines the view of the helpless female and the male as protector. The only thing I thought to say was that we should all just help each other. She tells me, "Isn't that the truth." But I think it was gendered lens of help she was thinking of.

I hate "ladies first" and especially when people demand it. Maybe if people forget about "ladies first" they won't view themselves as protectors or those that need protecting. Or I guess it is more like "treat her like royalty and she'll put out." I guess the origins are much more on the exchange of things of the old I'll do this for you, but you'll owe me.

I'll be working on the chairs this weekend and I'll post pics as I get them. 3 chairs are finished in orange and I'll be doing one more in orange and the remaining 23 in blue. A lot of sanding, priming, painting, and watching paint dry.

Type . . . Backspace . . . Type, Type, Type

2009-04-08T21:34:00.000-07:00

Something's got to change and I have to go back to the old drawing board to figure it out. I think I can be satisfied with dissatisfaction or at least that's what I tell one of my therapists. Maybe some intense garden time could be nice or maybe a new shop project. I've got to figure this out though.

Me Wee Hovel

2009-02-24T22:39:00.000-08:00

During the snowstorm this last December I was in McMinnville working on my lil' live/work deally. It was a lot of fun, Jerry (my mom's partner) is incredibly talented in things wood, so it was great being a little Gepetto Jr. for a couple weeks. I, like Virginia, have been wanting a space I could call my own for a while now. I bought a house about 8 plus years ago with two of my sisters and although it is great finacially, especially investment wise, I've wanted an area where I can work without interruption.

I was thinking how lately I've been really utilizing Jerry and mom's workshop and how about 10 or so years ago a good friend of mine and I really wanted to start making furniture. Neither of us had any clue of nails or screws to use let alone the differences in woods or finishes. We took tons of pictures of these made from found objects sort of pieces that collaborate an old screen door, crown molding, and aged siding. We figured it wouldn't take much to replicate what we saw in small country style garden shops and maybe make a buck. Our first project was a small hutch made from old siding and some crown molding that could be used for storing small gardening pots.

This piece was never finished. I ended up working on it solo because at one point I chose to abandon Nat with my mom and her husband at the time to hang out with a "close" friend at the McMenimans in McMinnville. I told Nat, my mom and her husband that we would be back after a while and not to stay up. Nat and I hadn't had the "I'm gay" talk yet but she and everyone else already knew that Micah and I had been seeing each other off and on. We had both been disfellowshipped from our church for having too much fun together. After Micah and I head out Nat wants to leave because I just abandoned her with my folks. She does and Terry, my mom's partnter at the time, runs after her and tells her that Micah and I are "more than just friends" and to not think it was about her. Or something.

It's such a different life thinking about how hidden everything had to be. Nothing was ever spoken only implied and only if you were in on it. I think Micah and I that night ended up getting really intoxicated and stayed at the McMenamin's Hotel Oregon. Nothing happened between us that night. I think he even slept on the floor. It was always really odd how I never knew if he and I would "have fun" because usually he felt incredibly guilty for "having too much fun," which kind of sucks because it also meant that even after 12 years of off and on engagements we still couldn't discuss what happened the previous night, or in this case why something didn't happen. Nat has been my closest of close friends for I don't know how many years and the guy that I bailed on her for is now married and we don't talk.

The Hovel is great. I love that all of the wood is refurbished. My orange desk is also something we created during the storm and the bench under the desk is something Jerry and I had made prior.

2009-01-16T12:27:00.000-08:00

Things are in flux.
And
My art show scheduled for February is rescheduled for tentatively May. The Q center is changing locations in Feb so the curator thought it would be best to postpone the show. I'm thinking this is probably a good thing and gives me more time to really focus on it and not give it side note treatment.

2008-12-26T17:54:00.000-08:00

I spent the last couple of weeks in McMinnville working on my new live/work space, which includes an office, workstation, computer area and plenty of shelving. I'll post pics of it later. McMinnville is nice but I think I realize that it might be a little too small for myself. My mom's place is really really comfortable and when I visit it is a total retreat from Portland.

This is the second year that they (Mom and Jerry) have done a Christmas tree and since I was down there this year I helped in decorating the tree. It was more fun than I thought it would be. I have never decorated a tree before and I didnt want to do anything to commercial, so I focused on the free. I made the ornaments, topper, and "gifts" underneath all out of paint samples. There were some other ornaments made out of wood discards from my live/work project and mom already had lights and silver balls, so the tree was virtually free minus of course the tree itself.

It's easy for me to say why doesn't everyone make their own ornaments and disregard tradition as far as decoration goes because I never celebrated Christmas. I am very happy about that. But I know that my disregard of "baby jesus" tradition doesn't mean other don't desire it or that they are trying desperately to redefine it to be a part of something they feel they missed.

Decorating was fun, but I think it might be more fun decorating a tree on a random rainy April evening or a cool early summer night.

I want to do anything but write about art

2008-11-28T23:08:00.000-08:00

Still plugging along with these Art History papers. Made a bunch of progress today, but I really just want to go to the beach. There are a few stories at the top of Cape Kiwanda that I want to type out but really should get back to reading. Ingredients for a memorable story: Absolute Kurant, Chambord, Black raspberry lemonade, a tent, and two very confused young adults who needed the rest so they would forget. I think the story is the name of a drink that I named after telling a friend about that time on Cape Kiwanda, the drink is aptly named The Sandy Cock. That's all I'm going to say.

Puting the Pro in Procrastination

2008-11-26T12:57:00.000-08:00

I've got two papers to finish by Monday and hoping for the best. I am one the absolute best at procrastinating. I even went to a Movie last night. I saw Synecdoche which was right up my alley as far as simulation and simulacra goes. Starting to the feel the pressure and kind of hating that Thanksgiving is Tomorrow because it is a day and a half affair that could be used to read through the additional 5 books I just recieved from inter-library loan. My mind has always worked like that, where I have to find a few additional last minute sources. If I decide not to read them then I know the paper will be missing something. If I do read them then I am in store for a couple all nighters over the weekend. I think not reading them and having to wonder what I missed out on is a greater risk to the paper than clear thinking and sleep. This is the bet I almost always make save for a couple classes.

I better get back to reading. Maybe I'll go to the museum and look at the works again that I'm writing about because if I'm at the museum looking at the assignment then that isn't totally procastinating, at least not as much.

Sack of Potatoes

2008-11-22T22:10:00.000-08:00

Figured I needed a couple pictures of me holding a baby, so no one thinks I'm a complete baby hater. She's totally adorable and I can't wait for her to hopefully soon live on the West Coast.

Fennel got a lot of treats for this

2008-11-22T16:20:00.001-08:00

Fennel in a confidence boosting sweater

Making a new friend

Sometimes just being held

Either, "He never tests you more than you can handle" or Christmas comes early

Halloween this year

2008-11-22T15:19:00.000-08:00

So I don't usually do much for Halloween and I wasn't really planning on leaving the house, but a friend called and said she was going to a party that was just up the street from me so I decided to head over. I didn't bother with a costume and figured something would come to mind in the five block walk. As I was going up the porch stairs I notice someone with a Native American headband with a single feather, I can't remember what character she was. Maybe something in Peter Pan, but really have no idea. There was another guy who was dressed in I think somewhat traditional Japanese garb but with a hip NE PDX self-awareness to it. He was a character too I think, but didn't really ask. Other folks were dressed pretty interesting as well. There was a 1930's style "hobo" and I think my favorite was "Hermaphrodite" (Aphrodite), just use your imagination.

I was slightly unshaven with a fresh haircut, a newish blue sweater, jeans, and clogs. I was thinking that on Halloween everyone can be whatever they want and they have a special license to take from whatever culture or social group they please. Someone asked me what I was dressed as and the first thing that came out was "white privilege," so I ran with it. The first thing they said, and it was dark and I was still on the porch, "but you don't really look white." My response was that I could be white privilege only on Halloween. It was funny because she wasn't completely offended, but I think I ruined the fun just a little. Everyone there save for a couple of folks were definitely on the lighter side. It was weird that she questioned if I was white because it changed it from an in-joke to an accusation. No one I'm guessing asked if "Hermaphrodite" was really a hermaphrodite, or if the "Hobo" was really just homeless and travelling through, and it was assumed that the Native and Japanese garb were done in the sake of pretend.

It was fun hanging and chatting a little with dressed up folks. I do recommend to people though to not invite me to holiday functions, weddings, or other sort of ceremonies because I have a tendency to resist being caught up in the collective moment. I find that it really reduces people's fun because they are usually doing everything to escape the day-to-day in a light hearted fashion. I think I'm usually pretty fun, but throw scheduled dates and a script to let my hair down or enjoy myself and I become just a little bit toxic.

Thinking about snowdays

2008-11-21T20:19:00.000-08:00

I've been thinking about snowdays lately with the leaves all practically gone and for the most part raked up. I love how everything in Portland completely shuts down and how it forces a sort of quiet slowness. Nothing ever seems due like deadlines were covered by the snow. I think this year will be all about homemade marshmallows and having friends that live close by come over for hot cocoa and grilled smores.

Mr. Fennel Pants loves the snow as well. The first time he saw snow was on a hike at Angel's Rest in the Gorge. He went crazy licking it and pouncing making fucked up abstract doggie angels. His paws do get cold so a couple years ago my mom bought him cute little doggie shoes that protect his paws. Mr. Doggie Business is super cute when he wears them and sometimes we put the shoes on him while he's in the house to see him walk all crazy legged. He gets plenty of treats for our bit of fun, but he's such a sensitive dog that I think he knows that it's at his expense.

Mr.Go-Go Gadget Go-Go Boots

Mr. Doggie Business is a very good business to have

Mr. Sunshine Sparkles So Much (his native name)

A little bit of chicken fried

2008-11-19T13:13:00.000-08:00

I have a thing for country music, especially country songs that have a bit of a patriotic zing to them. I’m not a patriotic person really at all. I know that if I were born in China, Cuba, or Poland it would be all about Chinese pride, Cuban pride, or Polish pride. I don’t believe capitalism is the best way to organize financially and that a rule of the masses protects anything more than simply the masses and not the minority. But for whatever reason hearing country music and their cry for the stars and stripes sends nice chills. This is becoming a bit of a theme and I apologize, but I really like hearing people speak, sing, and write with passion.

Acts of passion even when they’re racist, sexist, heterosexist, and classist really remind me of the hope of being ignited by something. To have such a firm belief in something that it needs to be expressed and not silenced. To image yourself in a minority position, even if you are so part of the majority, gives me some sort of fucked up sense of hope for everyone, I guess because it would mean that somewhere down deep in all there is a spot that can be sparked. A space that speaks in rage, passion, anger, and love and I know that is kind of sick. Most of the people I enjoy listening to do not share my political views, but I guess who wants to be constantly congratulated for believing the same way.

My favorite song right now is “Chicken Fried” by Zac Brown Band. I love this song because it reminds me of a space that I grew up in, but never truly experienced. All the simple pleasures for Yamhill County, which I am very happy to be from. Everything was a bit simpler then, I like to revision. We did can, out of necessity. I love the idea of the Zac Brown Band’s 1920’s populist sentiments, which really question what happiness comes from. Populism during this time wasn’t so much about the political machine, but instead wondered what happiness might mean and if farmers, rural folk, and simpler pleasures were a viable offering. I know that the Zac Brown Band isn’t in it for populism, but it gives me a bit of space to image the possibilities.

The fried chicken at pot lucks growing up were usually brought by families that didn’t know how to cook like the Pringles, who were also probably too busy to make it themselves. They would buy it from Kentucky Fried Chicken and it would always go faster than any of the homemade offering at any potluck. (If the Pringles ever read this . . . Thank you for having bookstudy in your house, especially because both of you worked. You were really nice parents and I think your kids turned out well.) I make fried chicken sometimes and remember the potlucks differently, a bit of revisionism even if its imaginary. I think of how we would play baseball and work up an appetite and go back to the potluck line to see what was left. I imagine that a latecomer brought a batch of buttermilk soaked fried chicken and how all the ball players would devour it with the remaining macaroni and potato salads. It’s not a verifiable history but I do wish it were mine.

Definitely fastforward to about a minute and a half of the video because it has a super long intro.

Life without end at last

2008-11-18T18:36:00.000-08:00

I went to a movie tonight at the Living Room Theaters a kind of high end theater that shows I guess artsy movies. So the movie was Save Me about a Christian re-programming space for gay young males. I didn’t mind the context and I didn’t celebrate too much that this is a message that should be heard that there are youth being coerced into falsifying their gayness. What I don’t like is how simple minded they make the supposed extreme set seem. There is a lot of caricature that happens in these depictions. They have them singing hymns and don’t concentrate on what the songs focus on and how much these lyrics mean to the individuals. I didn’t enjoy the depictions of the simple mindedness of those that have spiritual beliefs. It should be noted that I am an atheist and have no spiritual sort of beliefs. I do enjoy hearing people speak with passion though, even when the beliefs differ greatly from my own.

I remember singing the song “Life without End at Last” on several occasions as a disfellowshipped young 20 year old and it was painful. Even though I didn’t believe in the life having no end mantra I did miss those that did believe, that is what I had. Growing up as a Jehovah's Witness this was one of the key songs, number 15, that everyone knew. For the most part people would be looking up versus down during this song because everyone knew the lyrics and maybe that was a way of displaying sameness as far as devotion went. The lyrics really are great and really hopeful, "Man and Beast Living in Peace, cause no harm to each other, food will be there, all will share, Life without end at last. Sing out with joy of heart, you too can have a part, live for the day when you'll say Life Without End at Last." I think they are powerful lyrics still, even without the belief system. I remember crying at a District Convention in Tacoma when we sang this song while I was disfellowshipped (no one could talk to me because I was considered bad association). I wasn't crying because I didn't think I would be able to share in a hope of everlasting life. I was crying because of the camaraderie this song brings among people of this faith.

I would like for a movie to come out that showed people of fervent religious beliefs that didn’t make them seem psychotic. Life did seem very normal growing up as a Jehovah's Witness because of course normal is based on touchstones and since this is what I knew this is what normalcy would be based. I do miss the ease sometimes of having a faith, an assured expectation, even if the expectation is just to have others around you that can sing heads held high the lyrics to familiar songs. Hearing this song again did make me a bit misty eyed because how can I ever discount anyone's hope.

Although, I am glad JW's don't vote because it's easier to respect people's faith when it doesn't interfere with my own personal rights.

One step in front of the other

2008-11-18T14:49:00.000-08:00

Note: I think it's best to start the video but read while the music plays.

Even though I say that I graduated in 2004, I really just graduated this last summer. I had a pretty serious mental breakdown in 2003 or really just an alternative perception that popped through and changed everything. I only needed one history class to complete my degree requirements but had such a mental block that I could take other courses during this time, even at a graduate level, but could never go back to that silly 407 History seminar that I needed to get the piece of paper. I did get it though this summer, although in my head it will also be a 2004 grad date vs. 2008.

I didn’t walk for my graduation and I don’t think I ever will no matter what degree I end up with for graduate studies. I hate the idea of graduation ceremonies. In undergrad education, especially, you get to analyze ideas that you may have taken for granted as being an always or a constant and really get a chance to create a new concept for the world around you. I know I started to go to school to really question the religious principle I was brought up with and used the tools of sociology and biology to question precepts I had always assumed. I loved it because I resisted the whole time. In intro philosophy of religion classes I would raise my hand immediately with a defense for the existence of God based on one of Paley’s Blind Watchmaker arguments or would in biology when my instructor was teaching evolutionary theory I was prepared and asked if there were scholars questioning the proponents of Darwinism. I read so much on Noah’s Ark and different exhibitions that attempted to document the 40 days and 40 nights. I loved it and used the academic setting to help me create a ground work for me to lay a decent foundation.

Graduation to me makes all the undergraduates the same, placing them in identical gowns and caps in juxtaposition to the professors who have ornate robes and hoods. It becomes a way to say, “Congratulations for your efforts and thinking that you were questioning and achieving, but there is more you will have to do to have the intellectual value of me your Professor.” I can’t have that. I don’t want to cheapen my education, so I can’t join the cap and gowners with silly string, beach balls, and messages written in tape on top of the square cap.

The other part of graduation I really don’t like is how much the privilege of education is so embraced. Education isn’t open to everyone, even at state schools; it is expensive and there isn’t a ton of support for individuals to pursue degrees. It becomes a sort of privilege to go to school so it really becomes at graduation a flaunting of that privilege when it comes to graduation. Although I really love my education, what it negates are folks with life experience that matches if not surpasses my understanding of how things work.

I think the graduation music itself explains it best in the title “Pomp and Circumstance” and it allows us to question graduation ceremonies. Pomp is our splendid display and our way of celebrating our privilege and Circumstance reminds us that it is privilege and a unique, not shared, opportunity or drive that grants us our drive, for whatever reason, to complete. It’s funny that Pomp and Circumstance plays during graduations because it makes you aware of your privilege, but also that you have special conditions that allowed for it to happen, so celebration may not be the best route. Maybe it would be relief or it might be a disappointment for pursuing it in the first place. Maybe you end up with a further feeling of imprisonment into the system at large farther from the original point of freedom you felt before you pursued an education. I don’t think I could ever walk.

This is not to say that it isn't enticing. All of your friends are there and they are having a really good time. Wouldn't I want to share it with them and have those memories. It is enticing to be part of something with others, but I guess at what cost is all.

Benches

2008-11-17T13:48:00.000-08:00

I’ve been laying low for the most part and I’m planning to enter real life this January, meaning I will be more involved in volunteering and art projects starting then. I have gotten wrangled into a few events here and there and some of them have been quite time consuming. The latest was my involvement with PULSE this year. I’d been involved in the previous two events for The Children’s Heart Foundation but had planned this year to not help and maybe to just attend the event. It’s a great event where 35 artists create for 8 hours while patrons observe them working and bid on works that are in the process. At the last event I was one of the art chairs as well as an artist and created a pretty fun installation. Everything was going as planned until I met with this year’s art chair at the house and over cheese and good bread I ended up volunteering to make some benches and be an artist’s rep.

The benches are pretty cool looking and I’m very happy how they turned out. They did take up a huge bit of time that I didn’t really plan on giving, but hey I got some benches out of it. Jerry, my mom's partner, was the biggest help in the project because he knows a ton of shortcuts and I had planned on making all these crazy reinforcements which ended up not being necessary. I have a tendency to cut twice and measure once, which usually means getting another piece of wood. Jerry is a measure 3 times cut once with precision and in the long run it saves time and materials. Who would have thought. Jer ended up doing a lot of the construction of the benches and I'm very thankful that he did because what was a 35 hour project could have easily become an 80 project and really more like a 120 hour project if you include my cut twice and measure once variable.

It was really fun seeing the very rough well-worn old growth fir be transformed back and how nice it was to incorporate some the imperfections into the benches. I already have plans to make more of them to possibly sell or to donate.

But what about the children?

2008-11-16T17:38:00.000-08:00

The elections this year, and I guess really every year, makes me really question a lot of the notions folks have about their individual rights, taxes, and how those both inter-relate. With such a strong focus/fear of “giving” away services such as health care it really makes we wonder about how often people never question the privileges they already receive from the government. I’m not thinking of those who are in the top 1%. I am more concerned about those who are willing to cut spending for social services, health care, and parks, but forget that they assume certain benefits. Mainly I guess it’s having kids.

As a taxpayer who is a homeowner in Oregon most of my property taxes go to education and other needs of children. I don’t mind this. I wouldn’t mind higher taxes and I always vote to up my taxes when given a chance because that usually means more services in general to at least someone. What I have trouble with is how citizens forget that they are imposing their choice onto other citizens when they have children. This I don’t really mind either, where my problem lies is where these folks that have kids want to cut funding for other services forgetting that they receive a great deal from the state in education and health services. For some reason it is ok for them to impose their choice onto me for their supposed right to have children, but when I’m concerned about universal health care it becomes an issue of demonized socialism. What they forget is that they are very reliant on socialist values including state funded schools, libraries, and parks.

Maybe kids should be on a lottery system if they are not adopted. Maybe this imposition of privilege wouldn’t be so ignorantly embraced. I can’t stand when I hear parents, especially those with decent jobs, complain about higher taxes and they won’t be able to put money away for their kids’ college fund or get the luxuries they’ve grown accustom. Mainly because they completely forget that they are forcing me as a tax payer to fork up the bill for their kids k-12 and also college education in the form of government loans and grants and even more so if it is a state school. Again A choice that they made and now make taxpayers fund. Having kids is such an embedded part of our culture that we never question the expense. What I would like is for those that decide to have kids to not forget how much they receive from the state as far as tax credits, education expenses, and various services.

I know schools have been severely de-funded and that sucks, but so has everything else and frankly I like funding the other things a bit more. Having a kid isn’t a gift to society it is a burden that the rest of us willingly pick up, but just remember that there are other gifts to society, the existing population that also need help. Yeah the mentally ill, disabled, poor, and elderly may not be as cute and as endearing as a young one, but it doesn’t mean we owe them any less than what we give to the adorable little ones.

Graying

2008-10-23T09:53:00.001-07:00

On my birthday a good friend asked if I had found any gray hair yet. I don’t really like birthdays because of the weird probing that happens that neither party is really into but because it is my special day we all go with the hoax. Usually I try to disappear on my birthday to avoid all the forced talk and interest. I don’t think I’m going to really gray, my dad didn’t until he was about 40 something and he still has a really full head of black hair with a few pepper marks. On my mom’s side they gray and they bald. I know I am going to bald and I will not really gray. I am going to have this funky hairline when it’s all said and done with a sort of hairline halo that maintains its dark color. I really like the look of a balding guy, especially that circular Friar Tuck sparseness in the back. I won’t get that. My hair is thinning throughout the crown with an impenetrable hairline.
Getting back to the gray hair, the only gray hair (singular) I've found was a nose hair that was white. It was incredibly long and tickling my nose while I was driving, so I reached in and yanked it out, not knowing it was going to be my first white. I yank out nose hairs often and realize I should just buy a trimmer, but never do. I was downtown during rush hour traffic and I didn’t have any plastic wrap or containers to put it in (I had hoped to save my first gray hair, even if it was only a nose hair). So I held on to it for about a half hour to forty-five minutes and I was nearly home near NE Broadway. I cant remember if it was a neighbor or a friend that I saw but I lifted my hand that was holding the hair to wave and I let go accidentally. I was in my truck and not the Jetta so everything looks like some gray hair mixed with my dog Fennel's hair. When I got home I gave the truck a once over in the cab but I couldn’t find it. And I guess officially it doesn’t really count as a gray/white hair because it was hidden in my nose growing in the dark like Belgian endive, which is white anyway.

Lemon Bars

2008-10-11T16:26:00.001-07:00

I love being in the kitchen, especially if I'm making something sweet. Over the weekend I made lemon bars, one of my absolute fave things to make. My mom bought me a mixer and a food processor and it has become increasingly easy to whip them up. Growing up we had this really fun cookbook that was a selection of submitted recipes at different schools, I'm guessing it was some sort of fundraiser. I have used this lemon bar base recipe for the last 23 years. I never really make it like it tells me to because when I have it is never tart enough or sweet enough, I don't think I really could replicate one batch to the next because like most recipes I do it all by taste. When I was younger I would always make lemon bars for different occassions and I would usually hear how they were amazing, delightful, wonderful, etc. So much of my confidence in the kitchen came from being allowed space in the kitchen. There were always funny rules with desserts growing up like if you made dinner (something of substance) you were not in charge of the dishes; it was who ever was scheduled for the night, yes one of those households. If you were to make dessert though you were required to clean and put away all dishes used, really almost punishing the dessert maker, which was usually me.

I bake and cook a ton now and I really have to thank the State for giving us Food Stamps because I think for the most part growing up lemon bars, cookies, brownies, etc. were pretty much paid with tax payer funds. I want to thank the tax payers for giving me the opportunity to make lemon bars.

I had never really questioned my ability to make good things in the kitchen, until that is my sister moved back home. I had just graduated high school and my sister had moved back from doing missionary work "where the need was great" which happened to be in South Dakota near a reservation, funny how that works, and we were hanging out quite a bit. I had spent a summer during the end of my junior year in South Dakota with my sisters to help in my own missionary style service that would begin my senior year. We became very close and we would later down the line move in together and eventually purchase our house together over on Fremont and 7th. For whatever reason my sister tells me, probably over a game of Canasta, that mom used to make my sisters tell me how wonderful the lemon bars were. "Oh Gabe I can't believe you're making your famous lemon bars again, thank you." "Your lemon bars are so wonderful, please don't give them all away, save some for us, please." etc. She told me that everything I believed about my baking, that it was really pretty amazing, was false. I had a small resentment toward my mom for a while, but I thought maybe she was trying to just encourage the only boy not to be ashamed of wanting to hangout in the kitchen or that maybe eventually with enough tasting my recipes would gastronomically ripen.

Needless to say I stop making lemon bars. I just couldn't do it thinking that people really didn't enjoy them and that maybe my palate hadn't been as developed as I had hoped it was. Probably about 5 years pass and I'm now 24 and since everything eventually becomes funny, I bring up to my mom, without my sister present, how funny it was that she used to make my sisters tell me how wonderful those pathetic little lemon bars were. I'm expecting some laugh about how naive I was to think I was skilled and expected a laugh on her end for being found out. She instead said, "What." I repeated what I knew about her manipulated my sisters and she told that she never told anyone to tell me that the lemons bars were good, instead she insisted that they were just good, really good. My sister and I are now living together and I bake apprehensively around her, although I had baked desserts professionally at a small Italian cafe for about a year. My mom, myself, and her all have lunch or dinner or something and it's brought up that she told me that my lemon bars were shit. Not the shit, but shit. She tells us that she thought I knew it was all a joke and that of course they were good and then blamed the victim saying that she coulnd't believe that I wouldn't know they were great. About 5 years had passed since I had made lemon bars, 5 years that I really, really wanted to make them.

I make lemon bars pretty freely now. I love making them for other people especially. For some reason though I never make very many for the house. I dont know if it's because my delivery list has gotten bigger or if I think maybe it's punishment for telling me that she was forced to say my baking was good, which ended up not true. I never make enough and I love a fresh palate to taste them, which is pretty stupid because I know they love them but for some reason I need to be begged. Tell me how wonderful and amazing the lemon bars are, "Oh Gabe you you make the best lemon bars I've ever tasted," "This is what I imagine heaven to taste like Gabe, thank you."

I might have deserved to be told they weren't so good. Things go to my head much too easily.

Front desk help

2008-10-10T16:05:00.001-07:00

I was at the Portland Art Museum working on an assignment for a class I'm taking on Modern Art and I totally couldn't find two pieces, so I go to the main entrance counter to see if they could help. I tell the two folks that I've found all but 2 out of the 20 and if they could give me a hand locating them. I had already been at the museum for a couple hours or so and kept going up and down the stairs and back and forth from both buildings in hope of finding the needed works. The guy asks which works so he can look them up in the computer and I tell him. The gal he's working with gives me this disappointed almost scolding look and condescendingly says, "Well, half the fun really is looking for the works yourself." I smile and just hope that he'll be able to direct me in the right direction once he finds them in the computer. I think she thought I was cheating by going to her desk.

As the guy helps me locate the works (one was in the main museum on the second floor and the other was in the contemporary section on the second floor) the gal begins to help a lady who has a question about admission. She asks if there's a AAA discount and the museum gal told her with a bit of heavy sighish breathing that there is not, but that there is a senior discount which is a dollar off. The lady nods and purchases the ticket. As she's processing her credit card the museum gal asks the lady if she is listening to the debates. It was about 3 in the afternoon on Friday and as far as I knew there are no Presidential debates going on. Maybe there was a high school debate team over at Wilson High that has a podcast for their weekly debates that she was referring to or something. The lady responded with "No, are they on." The museum gal then responded that she didn't think so, but that she had noticed that she still had her headphones around her neck, so she thought that she must have been listening to something. And I guess for some odd reason she thought that it must have to be the debates.

That all just felt weird like there was a glitch in the system of the ol' Matrix.

What does that have to do with the story?

2008-10-09T23:54:00.000-07:00

Fennel and I were at the dog park this morning hoping we would miss the rain and not require a bath because of stinky puddles. He always finds the fishiest most rancid and just lies in them like a spa treatment. I think usually I hear him do that throaty sigh like in the “I need a break” sort of commercials. Like most dog parks you get to know folks because they are there with their little companions like myself, although I’m guessing like most dog owners I only know the dogs’ names. Fennel was playing around with one of his friends doing the usual antagonize, get chased, run really fast, stop mid-motion, and then begin being the chaser. I love watching it. When the dogs are all getting along we people are able to have light conversation and sometimes light social/political discussion. I live in close-in NE Portland so for the most part it’s assumed that everyone is progressive to hyper-progressive. We’re chatting about how a few days ago one of the persons’ dogs, Joey a bull terrier mix, had run down to the kids’ play area, which is a no dog zone and he explained that a black city maintenance person started to yell at him to get his dog back to the designated area. Only rangers usually enforce and ticket and most of us in the park know to look for the green car or truck and immediately go in the opposite direction if in a non-designated area. Joey had been playing down near the swings and since there were no kids around his person really didn’t see a problem with it. Joey’s person said that kids shouldn’t be on those sort of fabricated steel, concrete, and rubber contraptions and maybe with a whole park available they should be enjoying the trees and whatnot. I think we had been talking about how our dogs will sometimes get a scent and ignore all calls, even my favorite to Fennel, which is a lot like a wrestling announcer calling for the next opponent, “FENNNEEEELLLLLLLLLL PAAANTSSS”. He totally goes crazy when I do that.

The conversation continues about whether they’ve ever been let on Tri-Met with their dogs. A couple say they’ve been on the Max and Joey’s companion tells us he’s been on the bus with no problem and he just says that Joey is a service dog and hasn’t been questioned. I lie and tell them that Fennel has been on the Max, but that I would be afraid of being rejected attempting to take a bus. Not to mention Fennel is incredibly sweet and fun, but service dog he isn’t. I don’t know why I lie about the stupidest stuff sometimes. I asked if there is ever a problem from people riding the bus that might not be keen on sitting next to a dog. He says that most people don’t care, but that there is always this one black lady in the back of the bus that has an issue with it. Joey always barks at her and I’m guessing that makes her feel uncomfortable. It’s odd that he says usually and that it’s the same lady because he tells us that he’s only done it a couple few times. Joey, he tells us, is pretty good at reading the energy of creatures great and small, so if he barks or isn’t comfortable it is probably for a decent reason. He mentions that he thinks the black lady is probably crazy in that drugged out sort of way. He looks at us when he finishes with one of those shake your head sort of smiles that says, “Who couldn’t love Joey?” The others shake their heads and smile, like most all of us at the dog park do when it comes to people who don’t want us around them with our lovelies.

I shake my head up and down a bit and take a deep breath and say what I’ve been thinking since the beginning of the story, “What does her being black have to do with the story?”

Joey’s Companion: What do you mean?
Me: I mean, what does that detail have to do with the story?
JC: I just like to give as much detail when I tell stories is all.
Me: I was just wondering because earlier you mentioned that the maintenance person who told you to come up from the kids area was also black, so I’m just curious.
JC: I don’t mean anything by it, but she and he were both black, so I guess I don’t really understand.
Zoe’s Companion: Well I think I understand what JC is saying. You know the guy that has the 3 wheeled biked and collects cans in the neighborhood, he has a white beard, older, and he’s black. Well, we were walking and he passed by on the bike and you know I never have Zoe on a leash really, well she starts to chase him. She’s barking at him doing her playful nip that she does and I’m yelling at Zoe trying to get her back and he keeps riding.
Me: I think before I had Fennel I would have totally booked it if a dog started to chase and nip at me. He was probably scared.
ZC: I don’t know how anyone could really be afraid of her she’s only a foot high. Well, he doesn’t stop so I can go get her and then he’s mad at me for taking so long to catch-up. This happens 2 other times once at Safeway and once here at the park with a guy sitting at a picnic table drinking something, I don’t know. Anyway they were both black. Twice is not a pattern, but three times definitely is.
Me: Did this happen within the same week or something?
ZC: Not exactly, but it did happen within 2 months over the summer.
(It should be noted that she has only had Zoe for a total of 5 months and when she first got her she was full of all sorts of erratic behavior, so I don’t know what is going on with this selective perception. Also, she lives in NE Portland and is at the park frequently so more likely than not Zoe within a 2 month period was bound to see more African-Americans than 3.)
Me: huh
ZC: A lot of dogs if they have bad early experience whether it is someone with a beard or someone that is male vs. female will be frightened and aggressive when they are around them.
Me: Sure, dogs are socialized similar to how we’re socialized. But what I don’t understand is that in JC’s story the maintenance person had nothing to do with his dog’s behavior and I guess that is why I wonder why it was important.
ZC: Well, I don’t know why it would be ok for a group of black people together to say this white guy or that white lady?
Me: (Without getting into white privilege) I guess I’m wondering why you think it’s ok for someone white to say that black guy in a story that has nothing to do with the story. And I guess what I’m really wondering is how I would be detailed in a story, since I’m not fair skinned.
ZC: You would be the guy at the dog park, Fennel’s friend.
Me: You can give that descriptor because you already know me and Fennel. When you tell other stories about your day do you say that fat girl or bald guy if it’s a passing character and has nothing to do with the story.
ZC: You don’t know how catty females can be.
Me: But we don’t in stories usually say that white guy or that white lady that was on the bus. What you’re saying is that there is this normal based on skin tone, size, and other characteristics that should just be assumed, so there is no reason to mention it if they’re fair skinned and Western looking.
ZC: Yeah I guess so, but that’s not what happened with Zoe, and I think it really is more about intent.
Me: Totally it is about intent, but also it becomes so normalized to mention the black guy or Korean woman or whatever that we never question our own intent because it all just seems so natural to point them out of the crowd because their not “Western”. I was really more curious about how it is that we always locate ourselves in our stories and how we do this by creating distance to those we pass by. And I was really getting at why would JC’s use the descriptor with a passing character.

The subject changes slowly back to dogs when Fennel starts to chase Joey and I have to go and get Fennel to stop humping Joey.

JC, I should say, was very, very quiet this whole time. He most likely considers himself to be very progressive, I know he does. We have had several conversations about environmental practices, the art commune he was a part of, his experience at Burning Man, and how he speaks of feeling and being in touch with people’s energy. He wears all of the symbols including dreads, patchwork pants, Rasta style hats, and a large square leather native style covering over the seat of his pants.

I know that “progressive” people of less color do not like the finger pointed at them. Nobody really does, well I guess I do sometimes because it makes me reassess. But after he mentioned it a second time I had to say something. It was really awkward because I see these people regularly and I’m going to continue seeing them and I think there might be oddness. I was getting the message from some that this really wasn’t worth discussing. And sure I can chalk it up to their ignorance or lack of sensitivity, but I guess at the same time I have to confess that I was having fun knowing that I was playing a small version of the ol’ I found a racist game at their expense, which kind of taints my best of intentions.

Rent is my Star Wars

2008-10-09T00:55:00.000-07:00

I went to see Rent last night at Lloyd Cinemas, it was the play version on the big movie screen in honor of its final curtain call. I love Rent and loved watching it on the big screen seeing so much detail of the set and expressions. I was totally able to sprawl out because I'm guessing the 20 buck admission kept people away, not to mention people aren't really doing the whole Rent thing anymore. Or I guess people are into Rent, but it seems to be not the supposed "right" people. I did a quick search on youtube and found people really attached to the "Will I/Life Support" song using it for apologies, memorials, relating to their favorite "High School Musical" characters and my favorite which is a compilation of touching Disney moments. Who can blame them "Will I/Life Support" is one of my absolute favorite songs and I cry right after he sings the phrase "reason says I should of died 3 years ago."
Watching the play on the big screen and just hearing the first few "Season of Love" chords I felt a sudden lump. Even though I know Rent is very pedestrian, I cry every time, several times. And I know better than to just disregard it just because everyone knows it, I don't know how I ended up thinking my feeling was somehow less authentic because it's shared. I've loved Rent for a very long time, but within the last 5 years I've really really loved Rent.

(Here comes the part of how Rent touches me similar to the above mentioned apologies, memorials, and Disney moments.)

Whenever I start explaining/describing what I'll call my alternative perceptions, which I'll describe a bit below, I always start racing through the experience, so if it's not completely cogent please understand. When I started to hear, see, and feel (tactile) things others couldn't and I began to lose some of the thinking/process ability I had always had this is when I started to really connect with Rent's themes. Nothing worked. Medications did nothing to silence, MRI's showed nothing, and neurologists couldn't help either. It was my last year of college and everything had been going very well and I really felt I was on track for my future academic goals. I saw my GPA slip a bit, not as much I had thought it would, but it still slipped, but what did wain was my confidence in academic settings. I could hear professors, old friends, family members, and acquaintances from non-profits, work, and school just like they were right in front of me. Most of the people I only knew minorly. All of them questioned my originality, authenticity, and overall ability tapping into my feelings of confidence and achievement. Accusations from them ranged from plagiarism to murder to having a traveling reality show called Red Star's Traveling Roast House.

I totaled it out at 110 distinct voices; it was pretty bad. During this time I also could see pixeled like bodies move about around me and it felt like I was was being shocked almost like those ultra sound machines with the electrical pads used by chiropractors. Not to mention how I could always feel things crawling in my bed like snakes, rats/mice, and people stepping around me and lying next to me. It was always the worst when I tried to work on the computer because for some reason the scenario was that the computer affected the virtual reality sort of machines I was hooked up to in order to have the experience of return back to 2003 from whatever time I was really living. I think I was supposed to be around late fifties or so, could be older, who cares. Reading was incredibly difficult because while I read I was being read back to as a round, like "Row, Row, Row Your Boat." I was able to pick the voice that would read to/with me in the round, but it was still incredibly distracting. I would almost always pick my cousin Grasi's voice because he has a lower yet metallic tone that wasn't as distracting. Usually I would read with music blaring incredibly loud and totally found peace in it. Although all of the above experiences happened at it's very worst and I no longer have these experiences quite as much, it still left me pretty exhausted even when it reduced. I can still see blue light sort of objects occasionally and sometimes it still feels like something is moving on my bed or sitting next to me, it's not nearly as distracting or shocking as it used to be. I'm sure I'll share more about the experience at a later time.

While all of this was happening I found a lot of comfort in Rent. Maybe it's the whole "No day but today" mantra or the idea that even though there isn't a solution that maybe there's hope or at least support. It was a hard thing to share with others. I didn't tell anyone in my family for about the first 9 months until it was very debilitating, who I should mention are incredibly supportive. I told work only to get my serving job back because I walked out on a busy Saturday night thinking I was going to be "transported" back to the future where my real body and real life were. I didn't like telling people because I didn't want to be treated with kid gloves, but mainly because I didn't really think anything that was happening around was the real reality or what Tom Collins refers to "actual reality".

One of the many funny moments during this period was at the end of November 2003 and I'm walking around campus and hearing a ton of voices and I go to 7-11 to get a drink or something and when I get change back I notice the year on the money is 2004. I thought to myself that maybe it's not really 2003 and maybe this is all some reality t.v. game show kind of like This Is Your Life mixed with being hooked up to a virtual reality gizmo and I get to meet again all of the people that I used to know in '03. I start chuckling like I've finally gotten a clue that none of this is real, so I ask the clerk what year it is and he looks at me oddly like it's a trick question and says it 2003. I take my clue, the 2004 dollar, and put it in my pocket and realize that nothing that I'm doing is real and that I would eventually go back to where my body is, most likely someplace hooked up to a spinal/brain tap sort of machine as seen in the Matrix. What's the point of studying if I already have, hopefully, a career and a life I'm pleased with or one that I can't change anyway being purposely stuck in the past.

Nonetheless, I'm still here. I haven't returned to a future time. Loving and connecting to Rent not wondering as much if I will die with dignity and if someone will care. I think it's the being close to the edge that makes me really enjoy and appreciate Rent. Although if the characters weren't in NY and mostly gay dealing with the AIDS epidemic I don't know if I would connect as much.

Some think of Hans Solo and I think of Roger and Mark. Others mention Princess Leia and I think of Angel and Mimi. And of course the Dark Force is the judgement and fear the majority of people had toward those that were going through a really difficult time. For my experience, unlike the AIDS epidemic, it was more the imagined judgement because everyone was so incredibly accepting and non-judgemental.

I'll be closing shop for a couple months

2008-04-04T16:56:00.000-07:00

So I've decided to go on what I'll call a "retreat" for a couple months and I'm feeling really good about it. It's been a few years coming and I think it's just something that has to get done or I guess nothing else will. I'm really looking forward to it, but I'm kind of curious how I'm going to respond to such an intense version of personal analyzation. I'm not in any way wary of self-assessment but I think I will have some trouble with facilitors and clients being caught up in the confessional. I think because I know there will be a lot of talk of Creator or Spirit or any other deference to something beyond one's self. They might say spiritual and I'll be thinking coping mechanism. They might say enlightened or illuminated path and I'll be thinking sound mental health. You can bring books in but you are for the most part limited to spiritually based books and those that will assist in your recovery. I'm hoping that since I listen to This American Life on Sundays that it could count as church and Sarah Vowell and David Sedaris could count as my religious texts. I dont know what I would call my "spiritual" reading maybe philosophy sometimes or social history occasionally but I dont think I would call them spiritual. Maybe to them it's anything that makes you wonder about the why and hows. I'm not looking forward to convincing someone that this or that is my spiritual reading I guess because then they are making me participate in spirituality against my will or really I guess I'm not comfortable with it because I'm voluntarily accepting the terms of spirituality in order to convince them that this or that reading is required for me to partake in my faux faith; i.e. This American Life, Ira Glass, Sarah Vowel, and David Sedaris. In order to do a residential program I had to sit down with a counselor and go over various points for evalution and one of them was spirituality. I ended up with spiritual being community building, art projects, and something about listening to others' stories as my basis of what someone might call faith. My residential will be at NARA, which is primarily for Native Americans and their program has a strong focus on cultural heritage and of course being in touch in a spiritual sense. They are incredibly acceptable of all faiths/paths, but they do in a way require that you put something down in that spiritual box. You can attend sweats, do enlightening walks on their 17 acres, and meditate, but all of which are defined in a power greater than one's self. Because I would probably call it a sauna, a workout or hike, and regrouping/refocusing, all of which in those terms would not be very spiritual. I'm looking forward to working out a lot, going on runs/hikes, and hopefully being able to do some of my "faith building" reading. I'm thinking everything should be set for me to start down the illuminated path sometime late next week.

Dig and Take

2008-02-19T12:00:00.000-08:00

Lately I've been a bit angry at my yard. It happens every year, usually a few times, with the results being a ripped up landscape with several casualties. This time around the Buddlia daviddii or butterfly bush were the victims. When I first moved into the house off of Fremont about 7 years ago I planted several (8) different butterfly bushes because they are fast growers, have great long spire-like lilac blooms, and they not only smell great they also bloom all summer into the fall. The problem is I've grown tired of the plant partially because I planted too many of them, but also because they've grown out of fashion. I believe at least 4 of the 8 were from cuttings. A few years ago I did the same thing with artemisia where I really liked the silvery lace-like foliage and began mass producing through a-sexual reproduction, only to find two summers later that I hated the plant and I ripped out every last one of them throwing them into the compost because they weren't even worthy of a neighbor coming by and digging them up.

You'd think gardening would be more sacred than clothes as far as fashion goes. We prepare ourselves almost to buy boot, skinny, or relaxed cut jeans knowing that eventually something else will take its place. We can look back just a few years back at man capris and see how in the moment it all seemed so right, but with hindsight on your side you dont have banana republic to blame, but only yourself for taking the bait. Or we might excuse it by saying the capris were ok, but the drawstring was just a bit much. Like most things I purchase I would really like to think that it just so happens that at the same time the nursery has a certain plant available that I just so happen to be looking for that very plant. Funny how the plants I'm looking for are either plants I've dog-eared in some "hot new" top 10 list or is a plant a neighbor might have that I've been coveting and that they most likely saw on a "hot new" list that I might have missed. But I am "choosing" this varietal out of all others because of my special knowledge and distinguished taste. How lucky I am and what a coincidence that Cistus, Garden Fever, or Portland Nursery are all carrying either this varietal or one that is very close. I fall for it every time. I know better but cant help myself. I have found these new desired plants through magazines such as Garden Design, Fine Gardening, and sometimes even Country Garden (where Butterfly bushes were all the rage about 10 years back). It becomes so circular me declaring, "I choose my choice." Of course I don't, I've fallen for marketing because I have, like most, a deep fetish for the new. Sure I can say that I'm trying to avoid the old blase attitude by avoiding overstimulation or constant unchanged stimulation. The fetish for the new is obviously prevalent everywhere in everything i.e. clothes, hairstyles, technology, cars, bikes, even plants. But unlike mechanical sorts where planned obsolescence might force us into a purchase or with clothes where they may get worn out and tattered, plants do something very different. A plant, if you give it love, will produce, spread, and flourish making a new purchase unnecessary. Instead you might find yourself putting ads on craigslist or taking a wheelbarrow over to a neighbors house with crocosmia, irises, hostas, trillium, and even butterfly bushes. Plants are naturally counter to our consumerist habits; they give and act as a true investment that is not dependent on overseas trading or inside deals.

I feel bad for the Buddlia because it did exactly what was expected and asked of it. And I have to confess, I didnt even put the 3 bushes I recently dug up on craigslist (leaving me 2, but I think I will eventually be down to 1). Partially because they are difficult to transplant (big root system that needs a lot of care), but I think mostly because I didnt want those plants out in the world and most definitely didnt want to see them in my neighborhood (so I didnt offer to neighbors). Was I embarrassed at having so many or was it (and I know it is) having so many of this plant. I have a ton of different sorts of euphorbia and recently started collecting eucalyptus, so I dont think the amount has much to do with it. It's almost like I'm acting as the stylistic moral compass for what plants should and shouldn't be grown, although I am obviously the wrong voice since I have a problem of becoming infatuated and then after the honeymoon stage quickly cutting off all ties to the poor plant thinking they are better off serving us in their death as compost. We'll always have those romantic summer evenings Mr. Butterfly bush and thank you for all the sweet sugar cookie scented nights where we entertained friends and family and sometimes they would comment on how lovely you smelled. I would respond bashfully for you accepting your compliment not even letting on to your admirers that "our" time was almost up. I wanted us to at least have that night, those summers, our memories.

Here are some of my latest fetishes and this is an apology in advance to them because in 5 years I know what will happen besides they will probably become much larger.

Just Swallow

2008-02-14T18:19:00.000-08:00

Why do I constantly write something in this little blog and then press backspace and exit? I then go to some lame website on food culture, some mainstream art blog, or any other really pedestrian site. I always have trouble finding sites I like because I don't really know a good place to look. I even was desperate and typed in Google "Really cool interesting website," needless to say a lot of tween myspace pages popped up. I need to make a smoothie and go to the gym. Maybe it would be helpful if I started with a sort of smoothie project I could find my way out this funk. You know, something that takes no effort on your part to digest where you dont have to work at all, but still get nourished and feel satisfied afterward. I'm not talking cliffnotes, just something that gets you to that lightbulb moment like, "Man, I should make smoothies more often. Maybe I'll add a banana or rather get crazy and freeze bananas instead of using ice-cubes." Maybe if I had a smoothie project that might lead to chewing and savoring the flavors the ingredients have on their own. Who knows. I think I'm going to make a smoothie for dinner. Or Maybe, I'll go to epicurious.com and find a recipe for marshmallows or something because I think making marshmallows sounds like a hell of a lot more fun than eating a stupid smoothie. Yeah that's it a "marshmallow project" .

time to start posting

2007-08-01T15:13:00.000-07:00

So I've had this blog deally for a while, but haven't really felt like typing into it until now. It's not that I have anything particular that I need to confess, but I think it's more that I think I might need to talk to someone, even it's the anonymous other. I will post again soon with a bit more substance. I'm simply considering this to be a first meeting, or I guess not even that, it's really more of an appointment to meet, soon.