fromthemouthofmoi

There are frequently scenes in old black and white horror or mystery films where directors use the technique of a looming silhouette coming towards a victim to show imminent death or annihilation. Often the victim is paralyzed against a wall, frozen in fear. We don't need to see the death because the technique suggests death. If you have ever had major surgery, mainlined narcotics or watched someone mainline narcotics, you will remember just how fast it was for the drugs to render you unconscious or high as a kite. So it is with my chemical imbalance. I own this description because that is how it feels for me when the chemicals change in my body leaving me manic or deeply, like a drowning of sorts - depressed. And like drugs taken intravenously, I am at their mercy for the moment. I can't eat cake to thwart its path or be talked out of it; it is happening within my body at a level involuntary. I have heard some refer to Robert Louis Stevenson's novel, The Strange Case o...

I'm thinking about this art project: I take photographs of all the friends I have made here in Merida and I colour in their complexions adding characteristics to their faces and clothing to suggest people of African and Asian descent. I title the piece: What I wish I could add to our friendship. I miss diversity. I am standing in line for a dance performance in San Francisco called Seed Language presented by Embodiment Project  a Hip Hop Dance Troupe. All around me, so many I feel I am in a sea, are every kind of coloured one can imagine. Asian Blacks. White Blacks. Chinese Blacks. Norwegian looking Blacks. Jewish Blacks. Blacks the colour of honey, Black Blacks, all Happy Gorgeous Blacks, some seemingly ten feet tall. I feel short. Short and old. I didn't grow up with such a sea of diversity. I am envious. I want to touch each and every person I see; they all seem to have a texture; I want to know what they feel like. A part of me is resentful they are not all my friend...

Unlike my previous blog entry, The Revolution Is Being Televised , experiencing and understanding Björk's music takes some effort to fully appreciate what it is that you are witnessing and hearing. I will venture to say that even if you are one that claims to be baffled by her or her music you will still be unable to look away from her videos for they are unlike any music videos made. They are experimental conceptual art films often directed by cutting edge directors. One of the aspects of poplar music that makes it memorable or catchy, moving it into the 'standard' arena, is how often it is covered and/or interpreted by other musicians. We may not like a given piece performed by artist A, but we are able to rehear it, and love the interpretation of artist F. Maybe we eventually fall in love with a piece of music when it is finally presented as an instrumental piece and we are left to explore it without lingual interference. More often, many of us use music to highli...

The last four days have been truly exciting for me. I came across a blog, How To Be Black, through another blog -both linked below- titled: Racism 101. The first blog is a bit tongue in cheek and the second is serious business. The second blog is an advice column of sorts, readers pose questions about all things race related, and the blogger replies. Having read about 100 questions and the replies I would describe the blogger as precise, snarky, and well informed. I was impressed. How To Be Black, in part, asks for its readers to answer a few questions (irregardless of race), and it stresses that the format of video would be best received. After having watched a few videos, I became struck by how the format of video, unlike written text, can have a far different effect upon the reader/watcher. As a viewer we can take in things like body-language, and facial expression, that the written text, by default, leaves out. Over time, when I have tried to express myself about my personal experi...