March 18, 2010

re kindle

san francisco, california

as i’ve become more intimate with what it means to be an independent artist, i’ve come to appreciate more and more those moments of energetic salvation where the resources of time, energy, and in particular, inspiration, come flooding back. one of the most significant occasions of this rekindling came when i was last in new york city, collaborating with singer, Jasper James, and Ken Still, director of the 2009 OUTMusic Awards (one of Michael Jackson’s principal dancers) on a performance for the ceremony. the fire returned not in a moment with either one of my collaborators, but at a dinner with a new friend at the 24-hour Cafeteria in chelsea, it’s heat so purifying and healing because i hadn’t realized how burnt out i’d become, which is, of course, the greatest danger of all.

my thanks to L for the 100% honest conversation.
my thanks to the zeitgeist movement for offering the topics that are of the utmost importance in this day and age, and which haunt me constantly.

this is a foto exhibition of that fire i feel inside. thanks to Rami Hyun for the incredible images.

from the choreography, "millionaire galang," which is dedicated to Changó, the Yoruba deity of fire, thunder, lightning, and masculine power. 9/16/09 fotos: Rami Hyun



[comments are very welcome]

March 4, 2010

love, you can eat the leftovers

san francisco, california
this poem was inspired by an entry on my friend Michael’s blog, found here

you can stay
find a place, go ahead
i’m not going to rearrange the furniture this time
i’m not going to make you a bed out of the finest things
    i can find
you can make do with what’s on the floor
the scraps of food
the spaces not occupied
by my busy life

you’ve got a heartbreaking face  handsome
but i know you’re a little fucker
bitter powder keg. your eyes full of darts

who left you that way?
you won’t take comfort
in no place
i made you my best stews and soups
you poured them on me
disappearing down the hall
i know you’re going to
come and go as you please. sometimes
i don’t see you for months
your face changes
but there’s familiar disgust

i’m gonna make my apartment a sidewalk now
you can be a rose. take root
where you may
but you’re going to have to really want it
i’m not putting myself out this time
no fucking way



[your comments are encouraged]