December 29, 2009


san francisco, california

surely i would be a genius of music
    if i wrote it
the most wonderful poems would
spring forth like fresh water from tuck’s
spring. who wouldn’t weep
at my costumed dancers
performing the most sublime choreography
inspiring one to suicide  so

but none of it happens
i sit hammered into stillness by the
world’s beauty. or caught somehow en
snared an ineffable paralysis
colours penetrate me in
the most violent ways  i hear
sounds on the street  i mull a face in passing
as if it were a hard candy in my mouth
at least  i think that’s why
i think i do  it all

that’s the problem with being a vessel
for every thing that comes my way
i’m an empty gun a car without
a driver a pot without a plant
i need someone to push me
over the edge that’s
the most valuable thing
to me i need it or
i’m nothing

December 28, 2009

the mobile temple

san francisco, california
on the dragon throne
portland, oregon. february 2009

 “you must get so lonely moving around all the time.” F could see it in my eyes as i leaned with my back against the wall outside of alte lampe. i was on my set break. he kept talking to me, sucking the air through his teeth as he fidgeted, not knowing what to do with his pity. compelled by the gravity of his compact bear frame, and much more by the superlative brightness of his eyes, i had called him outside for a chat.
there was,
in fact, no such loneliness in my eyes --i was having the greatest, most carefree time in vienna-- but it didn’t make me listen any less. besides, i saw he was already beyond convincing; there was an undeniable resonance between us, which F would hardly entertain for even a chat on the sidewalk, much less the date i was requesting. i was leaving the city in a few days, and he used his projections as sword and shield, cutting off attachments before they could form, hiding behind the rest. i knew that if i was going to keep this kind of touring up i’d start to feel the edge he was talking about sooner or later, or something like it.

it’s easy to get sick on tour. i fell ill in zürich after my 15 shows were over (i still thank god that it was after), then again a week after getting back to the states, then again in new york while i was choreographing for the out music awards, and once more after a round of shows in san francisco last week. four times in 2 months, it might seem like i’m falling apart at the seams. but these are less full-fledged sicknesses than dips in my immune system from over-exertion and stress, meaning i’m usually down and out for about 36 hours and then pretty good from then on.
still, something in F’s words and in moments of meditation i cultivated with Bardia in his house in aarau behooved me to ponder what was stability in all of the movement, even if that stability itself moved, and more importantly, how i could create it.
so i call it the mobile temple: the outer temple (the body) as it moves through the universe, crossing borders, meeting cities, moving; the inner temple (awareness), supported through creating a small shrine in house or hotel room, by remembering to follow the breath while at a bus stop or waiting for a train; and the innermost temple which is always available, and which the first two temples support in accessing.
i’m a taurus. if i can’t feel the ground i go crazy. i’m methodical as all hell with my practices and home routines. and for all these reasons it’s good for me to think about what i need most while on the road (i usually don’t have time for everything i’d like). no major developments with the mobile temple so far, beyond following my inspiration moment to moment-- that and being tenacious to start each day with meditation as it can be the only constant for weeks on end, and that one small piece can be the difference between me feeling sane and going to pieces.
it doesn’t feel like it’s all that much to go with, but something tells me that’s all i’ll get... at least for now.

[your comments are welcome]