So I’m gonna save the best for last and give you the worst
for first.
Divorce sucks.
Deep thought, I know. Had a
conversation with my soon-to-be-ex-husband a couple days ago. There was nothing horrible about it,
except the subject: how to execute divorce documents. Now, this whole process is as amicable as it gets. No one’s lawyering up, we’re just
trying to get it done. But even so
and even though we both know it’s the right thing to do, the sense of sadness
at losing a long-term relationship is enormous. After the call, I needed to find the marriage certificate,
which he needs to file the papers.
Opening up this original document, with signatures of our witnesses and
us on that day just tore me up. As
readers of this blog know, that was one of the happiest days of my life, in
part because I announced that I was 12 weeks pregnant, which fact was a
miracle. The next day was our
honeymoon in Cornwall and the day I miscarried. One of the, if not the, unhappiest day of my life. Because of that day, the happiness of
the day before was wiped out of my memory, as much as I tried to not let that
happen, it did. This fact did not
help our marriage. We had
different ways of grieving and so it goes.
The phone call at first started in a friendly tone but by
the end with the divorce details, it was pretty isolating. A sense of a gulf that can never be
mended – the loneliness one must bear – well – alone. This is not a unique story. But it is still a sad story.
OK, so that’s the crappy bit. But wait, there’s more…
A number of artistic adventures that are potentially very
interesting and a connection made in the most serendipitous way with a fellow
in Canada who is as much of a Deleuze & Guattari fan as me. This after wondering for a while now,
and even more so after my stepfather Tom died – if anyone would ‘get’ me again
– meaning certain idiosyncratic ways of thinking/feeling/ seeing/creating, the
resounding and entirely surprising answer appears to be: yes. So hooray for that. I will tell you more about this lovely
human and his extremely interesting project/s at the end (along with links to
some of his work) – so hold on for that, it’s worth it.
I will focus on the most interesting artistic project, which
my good friend Spencer Reece is spearheading in Honduras at a girls’ orphanage
called Our Little Roses. Spencer
and I went to college together. I
directed him in a number of shows, including Marat/Sade as Sade. From that
auspicious beginning, he has become an Episcopal priest and very successful
poet. He received a Fulbright to
go down to this orphanage and help the girls there write a book of poetry that
will be published. However, he
realized that a book would not be enough to bring attention to this
extraordinary place, so he has also managed to bring a documentarian, Brad
Coley, on board to film this adventure.
The blog for this project is at http://ourlittlerosesfilm.blogspot.com.
This orphanage and his relationship to it is an
extraordinary story that I will let you discover on the project blog. The reason I’m mentioning it, aside
from the fact it’s great, is that Spencer has asked me to go down to Honduras
and direct the girls in a show at the end of the year. I was kind of blown away when he asked,
then frankly a little scared, the orphanage is in what is now considered the most
violent city in the world. But
when I heard Dr. Diana Frade, the woman who started the orphanage’s description of the
place and the work they do there (not farming the girls out to whomever, but
instead educating them to become independent professionals), I knew I had to
go. This is not only an important
service in a country in which 62% of the population lives in abject poverty (no
potable water, not enough food, no real housing, no education), this is a
deeply feminist project as well.
When she started this place 25 years ago there was no girls’ orphanage
because girls were considered disposable, better off as prostitutes and maids.
Therefore, I will go down to Honduras, listen to these girls
and help them create a show that expresses their lives as they see it. I want to stay out of the way as much
as possible except as a guide to help them build what they want, because what
seems deeply important here is that these girls’ voices get heard. Just as in the Frontline show Poor Kids,
I want the girls to take center stage not some philanthropic, good for you idea
any of us have about them. So,
there’s that.
I also was invited to an African film screening in Harlem
and realized as I was watching this Cannes nominated film from the 1990s
Tilai that I had never seen a film about Africa filmed by an
African director/writer. Like ever. This is shocking and shows how much we
need to see these films. It was
gorgeous and showed life on the ground without any reference to white
people. Shocking (yes that’s a
joke). I recommend seeing this
film. The director of the
mini-festival Fifi-Dalla Kouyate has reached out to me about potentially writing
something with her, so there’s another potential project. I would be deeply honored to do so,
especially after seeing her short film of young women and girls dancing and
singing in Mali. There is a kind
of ecstatic thing going on that about which I would love to know more. There are also big issues of women’s
rights that need to be addressed that I know Fifi is intent on seeing that
happen. I believe she wants to
tell her story and that’s another story worth telling and hearing.
I was also privileged to see a reading of a new play by one
of the downtown masters of dark comedy Brian Parks. His new play is called House and I hope it gets produced
soon. The actors were all great
but Eva van Dok was spectacular.
Yes, Eva is a friend, but trust me she excels even her own fine self in
this role. Won’t give it away but
if you see this play listed, go see it.
On the surface it’s a comedy about a house, but the darker elements
involving deep-seated American psychoses bubble apace and explode (as anyone
who’s seen one of Brian’s plays knows will happen). In this one, though, so elegantly it almost seems like sugar
until it’s too late.
And now finally to the newest brilliant Canadian in my life:
John Morton. Hi, John! (I did
clear mentioning him and his work with him in advance, because it’s complex and
I don’t want to short change it in any way.) Because I am not going to assume knowledge of
post-structuralist philosophy to read this blog, I’m only going to describe the
broadest outlines of his two larger projects and let you go find the articles
and links yourselves for the advanced class.
The biggest project he’s embarked on for many years involves
discovering what he refers to as ‘image writing’ (a kind of embedded writing on
stones done by members of the First Nations in North America). He happened upon one of these stones on
a hike one day, wondered what it was and has been researching and writing about
it ever since. I am only beginning
to read the writing about this project and he has said he wants to update the
published research so will only say this about that for now. What excites me about it is the
precision of the work, how long he’s been dedicated to it and that he’s been
pursuing this on his own without institutional support (which isn’t to say if
you are an institution, you shouldn’t contact him if interested!). He’s been working in collaboration with
and sharing all his findings with members of the First Nations. Academic venues ignored these stones
and their markings at first, but he confirmed it with a
number of different tribal Elders that writing is in fact what they were
doing.
A related project I can give you a link to is published in
the online journal Rhizome and discusses the relationship of Deleuze to
photography: the text is here and photos are here. This what started us
off connecting, because he put in a search engine Deleuze and photography and I
popped up. Thus began our online conversation (alternating between email and Skype). I am definitely Not
going to summarize that article for any number of reasons, not least of which
is it’s written with philosophical precision and multiple references, some of
which I know better than others…
But, the most interesting intersection, aside from our
mutual love of photography and a penchant for landscapes with vivid coloration,
is that both photography and theater are considered the Enemy in most
post-structural philosophies because both are considered to be representational
and therefore reifying (confirming the solidity/importance) of broader, more
accepted structures. However,
because he and I are both artists, we see in these art forms the way they can
create difference and variation.
In my case with levels of address and presence and his with various
ideas of points of view, subjectivities and positional variance. I am only now wending my way through
the article but also seeing a potential interesting intersection with the
Attendant of Deleuze and the Witness in my own work (inspired by the weird
twin-set of Kierkegaard and yoga practice).
I am certain I will be writing a lot more about this
intersection as time goes on, but I am ending with it here for my readers who
have witnessed me grieving over losses for a solid year and a half. I wanted to share with you this
connection, hilariously enough for anyone who’s followed me pissing and moaning
over the academy and doing a PhD, made through good old Deleuze & Guattari
and my new/old love photography.
Hooray!
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