riots, earthquakes, hurricanes oh my! (and that's before 9/11/11)

Fact:  I was in San Francisco for the 1989 earthquake, I was in NYC for 9/11, I was in London for 7/7... London again for recent riots, here for recent earthquake and now incoming Hurricane Irene.  As some might ponder: what is up with that?

Really, I don't get it.  Now, the good news is, anyone who knows me should know: I seem to get through these things OK, so if you are actually in my physical orbit, you should be OK.  I am also not part of the CIA or some alien species that affects the weather or whatever.  It's just weird.

Speaking of 9/11, I am happy to report that tomorrow, or soon anyway, Indie Theater Now will be publishing No One as part of its 9/11 play series.  I kind of love that play, because I wrote it in November 2001, and it was raw and just emerged and was effortless in a lot of ways.  There are mistakes in it and some bumpy bits, but I decided to not go in an revise it as that was more in tune with the time - which had done something profound, which is make me (and a lot of other people) realize: life is real and messy and happens and cannot be contained in nice boxes, no matter how sophisticated the wrapping paper may be.

What I mean by that is in my first play Word To Your Mama, which I'd written in 1998-1999, there was this sense of America living somehow 5 inches above the ground, there was an unreality to how everything felt, like somehow we were skimming along the surface - the internet being a perfect metaphor for this - the Net.  And then 9/11 happened and it broke the mesh.  I've written about this elsewhere in a text for a piece I created with Cathy Turner in 2003 called An Alliance, but it bears repeating.  Because there was this moment, and it was (badly) patched over pretty quickly, but there was this moment - that first month before Bush started pummelling the shit out of Afghanistan - when I thought - oh, really, maybe, can it be?  Can the US join the rest of the world?  Can we accept we are part of all of this and maybe like just be here and actually learn something from this?  When Bush took off his shoes to walk into a mosque, I did think - wow, maybe something can really change.

But, no.  No.  Emphatically not.  The US had to go in and create a useless war in Iraq, etc., etc.  We know how that sad take ends.  But it is sad.  Because we had a chance.  And the fact is this - that hole was blown through the mesh of our so-called security and everyone knows it.  But there are all these absurd attempts to forget it, masking tape mesh on top of other mesh and the like.

But OK, wait, that was not what I wanted to say, what I wanted to say is: when I wrote that play, I did feel to some degree a connection with something and the beginning of a very real desire to disinvest from the patriarchy at a molecular level.  It changed the way I made work.  I accidentally moved to the UK and even more weirdly ended up doing a PhD (not precisely disinvesting from the patriarchy, that move, it must be said) and now I am back spinning through life, wondering where the bouncing ball may come to rest again.  Disinvested?  Not sure.  Don't think so if I'm honest.  If I was disinvested, I wouldn't care about my reputation or getting recognition for my work, or - gasp - paid for it.  And I do.  I suppose to truly disinvest I'd have to live off of nuts and berries in some remote corner of Canada or New Zealand or something.  And I don't.

What I do know:  I love NYC still, again, wildly, absurdly, abjectly.  Which just keeps shocking me, the depth of it.  I kind of fled in 2003, didn't realize that's what I was doing at the time, but was so freaked out by US foreign policy and what was happening with the flags Everywhere - even in NYC - I just felt I had to get out and I did.  Now, having lived in London for 8 years, I see this kind of thing happens everywhere.  It's not a US specialty.  In London right now, there are young people being put in prison for writing "pro-riot" related stuff on their Facebook page or Twitter account.  That's scary.  That is frankly scarier than the riots.

So perhaps in this global capitalist world the moral of the story is it is truly global and it is incredibly hard to live outside of its logic, like say in the Middle Ages if you weren't a Christian in Western Europe.  Very tricky that.  So, too, not buying into the dictates of capitalism.  But it is a problem, because the logic of capitalism (profits above all else) is like killing the planet not to mention the vast majority of its inhabitants.  Why not then live here in its beating heart, along with every other whacked out artist and misfit who can't fit in anywhere else on the planet?

But what shall we do?  Me, I write plays, direct them and write other stuff, like a blog and prose, take photos, perform strange solo shows every once in a while.  Does that amount to two shits?  Honestly, right now, I don't know.  I used to think my work could change a lot of things, I still believe in the power of artistic expression, but I don't know if I believe in it as much as what was accomplished by the direct non-violent action taken by the young people in the Middle East.  On the other hand, there must have been a creative thought process at some point, stimulated by something that conceived of non-violent action in the first place.

I do know that writing matters, because it communicates ideas and feelings, and when done cogently people in power are more threatened by words than anything else, whether that's political, corporate or familial power structures.  Speaking one's truth, no matter how directly or indirectly, through stories or other more non-narrative strategies, can really freak people out.  So, I hope what I am doing with words matters.  I also hope that what happens in some theater spaces matters, too.  That is less quantifiable, but I suspect living bodies in a room, tapping into the rules of that room, do matter.  But in a very subterranean way - viral but not in the Youtube way - in the underground circuitry that no one advertises on...a very different channel altogether.

What I do know matters, too, though, are the amazing people who raise children in happy homes - I am thinking now of my cousin Darcy and her husband James and their sons Simon and Leo.  Living with them for a week showed me what true love is in action, no saccharine, no bullshit, just for real love.  And that, that is incredibly important.  So much that is important, like this kind of love, is unnoticed, and maybe that's the point I'm writing myself into now...

It's probably the least visible, least iconic, least 'momentous' or credited stuff that is the most important, is the most non-violent and leads to whatever is good in the world between people happening more.  Anonymous stuff, in my experience, being some of the most profound actions taken.  And probably the most meaningful.

The opposite of celebrity.  Anonymity.  Long may it continue.

However, having said that, I do not mean by that invisibility, because many people, and I'm thinking now of sexual and domestic abuse survivors, have been scorned or frightened into invisibility, and that is scary in a different way.  But there is something about principles above personalities and attraction rather than promotion that I find to be important and perhaps that is the key to disinvesting from the patriarchy at a molecular level - letting go of ownership of an Image or a Way to be Seen, including an Image of 'disinvesting from the patriarchy' etc.

And so is there a way of being seen that does not involve celebrity?  And by that I don't mean Celebrity but the kind of weird presentation of self on Facebook and the like, like say, oh blogs...I am trying very hard not to fall into that trap, but is it possible?  Can I put my name on something and be really truthful?  And by 'truthful' I mean divorced from image or trying to convince me and you of a certain 'me' that is ready for the public domain?  I think perhaps that level of purity, if that's the right word, is probably impossible.  And perhaps the word purity is a good tip off as to why it's not gonna work.  Because as I heard someone say recently, principles before personalities is a great idea, but we're personalities, not principles!  Principles are platonic, are ideals, we are not ideal.  We are impure.  And so we are.

So perhaps it is the principle of anonymity in action but within an all-too-human human, which of course we all are, even if Nietzsche wanted us to grow out of it.  Can we?  Really?  Is it perhaps better to accept ourselves as limited, incomplete, conflicted?  Or is that a cop out?  Too much acceptance?  Or is the opposite just arrogance?

How I got here from upheavals of earth and bombs, I don't know, but I did.  And as much as I'd love to wrap it up in a bow, it's just not gonna happen.  I could do that, but it'd be wrong and nowhere near true, just another made up fiction...

So, instead, I log off.

Dear God I'm Tired

I am tired from lack of sleep because of fear.  I'm tired tonight because I finally took a nap today.  I'm exhausted from grieving and fear and being angry at politicians like Cameron in UK for being pinheads and refering to all the rioting as 'mindless' in order to demonize them and I'm tired of politicians like Mitt Romney in the US defending corporations as people.

I don't even have the energy to give you the links to this stuff.

I'm tired of poor people constantly getting the short end of it.  I'm sickened that a teenager has received a 4-month jail sentence here in UK for 'swearing and ranting' at police during riots in Manchester.

I'm tired of writing about this and I'm tired of crying when I'm not angry or scared.

I'm tired of trying to think of 'more positive things' and having to believe that 'this too shall pass' and believing that 'good things will come of this.'

That may all be true but I'm tired, too damn tired to think that way.

So, I will stop writing this tonight and go to sleep soon.

Oh, but before that a few good things:

Started reading Carson McCullers' 'Reflection in a Golden Eye,' which is spectacular.  Her writing is the most lucid I have read in many years.

I had a good talk with my friend Emily who assured me attempting to make myself work when I'm crying out of grief is like yelling at a baby who is crying, as the grief I am working through is that ancient.  Yes, there are immediate adult circumstances, but it reaches back, way back to ancient loss.

I am tired of doing all this emotional work as well, I might add.  I continue to pine for the dissociative days of my life when I could produce in spite of pain.  Damn this integration, damn it I say...

Yes, that was a repeat, I know.  Too tired to edit it out.

And another good thing was listening to a fellow who has been down a similar path and getting assurances that this is my path...this longer, slower, tortoise thing...

And the fact, even as fucking exhausted as I am, that I do not know what I'm here for really, and in the end my life is none of my business.

That's the cliff notes version of Bhagavad Gita....Super abridged.

Next right thing: more sleep.

I imagine we can all be spared more political analysis from the uneasy calm-ish-ness of London.  Just please, as the song says: don't believe the hype.

Corporations aren't people.  We are.  Including the 'mindless thugs.'  Remember that the prime minister of Norway after the gunman killed all those people appealed for peace and a continuation of a free and open society.  There are other responses to violence than demonization.

Please practice non-violence however you can, even when tired, even when afraid, even when angry.  As John Lennon said, he aspired to non-violence because he was the most violent person he knew.

Peace out.  [she falls asleep in chair somehow miraculously typing...]

Rapping for Christ in the Stow

Yes, when I came back to the mean streets of Walthamstow tonight, there were Afro-Caribbean rappers in the main square (well actually it's more like the pebble dash trapezoid) and they were taking back Walthamstow for Christ, with the lyrics "No looting, no knives [something something I could not understand] for Christ" and hundreds of young people were hooting in agreement.

Meanwhile, the cafes on Hoe Street (my 10 minute walk home) had Muslim folks hanging out after breaking their Ramadan fast (their Iftar).  There were still metal gates rolled down over store fronts, but most of the restaurants were open and everyone seemed just fine.

I come home to check the Twitter feed to find out the Walthamstow respite center is working overtime, feeding ambulance, fire, police and outreach workers with homemade muffins and such.

So, I wasn't feeling in much danger.

But even so, underneath everything there is an unease.  I don't know why.  Maybe it all feels too good to be true, or maybe the religious tint to it is something I can appreciate but not entirely embrace, or maybe it's the endless rhetoric on radio, TV and news about harsher policing tactics that are needed, and the too-easy demonizaton of those that have committed the violent acts and the looting.

When anyone demonized the bankers in this way, they were accused of fomenting class warfare or of being resentful.  But say that anyone caught looting should lose their council house and welfare benefits because they are scum, and you are A-OK.  This bothers me.

Why is class warfare only when poor or working class people are angry at wealthier people?  Why is it not class warfare when wealthier or more educated people are demonizing poorer people?  I saw an apt Cornel West quote recently that said something along the lines of: wealthy and powerful people have successfully characterized working people as a special interest group.

In other words, monied interests are normalized and anyone else's interests are marginalized.

But, am I glad there is no violence here tonight though?  You bet.

And here is where it always gets tricky.  I don't want my house burned down anymore than the next person, nor do I want to see the local Turkish shop torched.

On the other hand, I still can't bring myself to demonize the people rioting.

Maybe cultures are like individuals.  We all have our darker and lighter sides.  If we demonize or repress any part of ourselves, we are doomed to act out on it one way or the other.  Somehow this seems the same.  If we try to just shunt aside all this violence and the people perpetrating it and say they are Other and Not Like Us, etc., are we not shunting aside a vital part of who we are and what we have become and are becoming?  Are we then not listening to something about the culture we have created?

I am aware that not everyone involved is young and underprivileged.  I don't know the total make-up of this group of people, none of us do.  But the fact this violent outburst happened and continues to happen means at the very least: something is wrong.  We can disagree about What is wrong, but we can't look at all this and think, oh well, then we're doing everything right and these are just a few 'bad apples' who need a more disciplinarian upbringing and then presto all will be well again.

The disciplinarian approach is gaining favor here now.  You can feel the desire for the whip.  There are many petitions to Downing Street to bring back the death penalty.  Someone else was talking about how "on the Continent the police take thugs down the alley and give them a going over."  The talk show host on BBC Radio 5 laughed nervously and said "Surely you're not advocating-"... and of course yes that is precisely what he was advocating.  And it is precisely this attitude that sparked the whole riot in the first place, namely, the fatal shooting of a suspect by police, that so far has no adequate explanation.

That spark over the slow gas leak of cuts of over 25% in social services, etc., etc. and you can see where this is all going.

Meanwhile the stock market is plummeting as the band-aid bailout in 2008 has finally fallen off the festering wound, and I must say I am kind of astonished at the renewed relevance of my play We live in financial times, Part 1: Blackberry Curve (written in October 2008) and which you can now read on Indie Theater Now.  Now not only the shell game of the financial system falling apart but also the Voice that comes in to remind the two guys Mike and James that their little game has not benefitted a huge underclass.  This Voice is then embodied and makes Her presence felt.  So, if you like my writing on this blog, do check out the play.  This play has not yet been produced beyond a staged reading, so like, contact me if you're interested.

OK, so that was self-promotional, so sue me.  A girl's gotta eat at some point, and we all Know that experimental (political) theater is the best way to make a living.  [cue laugh track...]

So, that's probably enough for tonight.  I am feeling less scared and hope tonight to sleep before 4am consequently.  I felt less scared last night but when I hit bed could not sleep for fear of wheelie bins being set alight and such.  No reason for that in this area, but it had happened near by the night before and the sirens are kind of relentless.  That has a lot to do with living off the main road not very far from the police station, though.

Ah, another thing I did today that was good: meditated before checking email and such.  However, all I did was cried most of the way through because feeling the separation from my husband.  I will be glad when this is not the first feeling that hits me in the morning.  At some point I know that will pass, but I am emotionally drumming my fingers on the table waiting for it.  Loss sucks.

However, here's hoping that peace prevails another night here in the Stow and all round London.  And whatever Christ means that is good, that that can prevail, too.  Or Whatever or Whomever you believe in can prevail.

There are many ways through a big mess like we're in right now, and I do pray for the most non-violent one, but non-violent in all the meanings of that world - meaning: justice, access, food, shelter, health care and a voice for all, not just those that look like us and speak in a language we already understand.

My prayer tonight: that we listen harder to and look more deeply at others and ourselves.

"They never report the planes that land"

Journalist Mark Shields said that on the MacNeil/Lehrer News Hour years ago and I've never forgotten it.  And today, especially it seems important to repeat.

If I had sat at home listening to the radio and frightened of the sirens I heard today, I would not have walked outside to see:

peace...

and people walking around, smiling mostly, shop windows not broken and the road works continuing.  I would not have experienced the eerily not overcrowded tube journey into Central London where I went to work with my friend Robin, who is a dancer/choreographer, with some of his research.

In walking into The Place dance studios, London went from 'war zone' to a dance studio.  I was able to engage with this really interesting project, weirdly enough as a subject, who actually - well kind of - danced.  And watched Robin and his collaborator Laura dance me or what they felt and saw.  It was an extraordinary experience that I cannot put into words precisely, except to say that through movement certain things can be expressed that perhaps cannot be otherwise, that stimulate words and expression after the fact and somehow get into essential areas of experience.

I do not know precisely what Robin will do with the material generated but it was a remarkable thing in which to participate.

And had I listened to my media-driven fear, I would not have gotten out of the house to the studio.  Not just the radio and news, but also the sirens.

However, luckily our MP in Walthamstow, Stella Creasy, has done an incredible job of tamping down rumors and staying in touch with people, helping set up a respite center, reaching out to young people, giving respite to police and volunteers and generally keeping the peace.

That plus the fact that Walthamstow is also a basically working class area, with no one much wealthier than anyone else, and as mentioned earlier, Ramadan.  I think all of this has conspired to keep it peaceful.  We had the one spate of looting of chain stores and that was pretty much it.  I think there were some wheelie bin fires as well, but those were put out and I don't think anyone was hurt.

And tonight, it's quiet, though it must be said, weirdly quiet.  Most shops (stores) shut early and there is very little traffic.  People are driving a little funny, a bit rushed and as darkness fell people were more nervous.  But so far, it's quiet.

That doesn't mean all the trouble is over, but there have been 10,000 more police put on the streets (last night there were 6,000 and tonight there are 16,000), all the politicians deigned today to come back from holiday (big of them I know) and the looting seems to have spread North and to the Midlands.

I went to meet with some friends again tonight, and that was a relief, another room that was relieved from fear and instead filled with joy.

There is something about coming together in rooms to connect in some way, either through dance or talking or whatever, and paying attention to what is in front of us rather than what we are being told is happening.

When I walked outside, all was well.  The sun was shining and there was no reason to feel unsafe.

This does not mean that the fear was/is unfounded.  Some horrible things happened last night and might happen again.  But there was also a large force today of people who came out to clean up their neighborhoods, help each other out, reach out to those more vulnerable and generally be a force for good.

There is in the UK, too, I am pleased to say, an understanding that is broadcast on mainstream media (like the BBC) that the kids that are looting and stuff are not necessarily 'mindless' and that there are real social problems underneath all this, not the least of which is the incredible gap in wealth and aspiration, and that a lot of really rich people have gotten away with looting the financial system, so why is this any different?

Answer: they won't get bailed out.

Badapssshhh.

There is also a lot of rhetoric from the wealthy people in power (and they are all incredibly wealthy and privileged in the Tory cabinet - not one person had to claw for anything more than the last Armani scarf at Harrods) about mindless thuggery, etc. as if all these kids just came out to do all this because they had nothing better to do than terrorize all of London and now the UK.

I mean, to some degree this is true, they Don't have anything better to do - because of the education, training and youth services cuts, most of these kids have very little to do at all and a lot of time to do it in.  But I think it's more than that.  What no one wants to see is that they are literally mimicking what they see as the way to win this world: steal it and who gives a fuck.  I know I keep saying this, but it bears repeating: who can show them differently?  I mean, really.

And then we go back to the planes that land.  Those people who do simple stuff like: help clean up their neighborhood, try to keep the peace, give gifts of themselves that ask nothing in return - those people Are a power of example.  Those people are not just stealing money from the banks or poorer countries or minimum wage workers.  There are ways to show a different way.

But they are not glamorous, and they won't get you rich or famous.  And since we've decided as a culture that the only lives worth celebrating are those lives, what do we expect?  What do you think our children will want?  A conscience?  Ha.

I think they will want: smart phones, trainers, clothing and plasma TVs.

Is this enough?  No, absolutely not.  Will this satiate what perhaps, one can hope, is truly desired, probably not.

Assuming what is desired (and I am not these young people so hold my hand up right now to say - this is a theory and I could be wrong) is: respect, a voice, a sense of meaning and purpose, something meaningful to do, a way to contribute, a place in a real community, a way to relate to each other, and perhaps the means to have a family...well, then all the looting in the world isn't gonna help.

But then again, neither is the status quo where the rich get richer off the backs of the despair and warehousing of these kids.

If the looting and arson can show us another way, open up a dialogue, at least show us all that we are Way off course, then it does not have to be 'meaningless thuggery'.  If we buy into Cameron & Co's idiotic and willful ignorance of the causes of this violence, we can just put the lid on this with enough force for a few days and start playing whack-a-mole with violent outbursts for years to come, tut-tutting the state of Youth, etc. as we go.  That would be a waste of an opportunity to listen to what is being said here.

Is it a political protest in the old-fashioned manifesto-driven sense of the word?  No.  Are there massive political implications of this violent explosion?  Yes.

And to be fair to the Met and everyone else: there was pressure today to bring in the Army and start using water cannons and all kinds of 'harsher' tactics.  They decided today to just try to bring in more police before escalation.  Many people criticized this, and there has been a hysterical call for martial law tactics and curfews and such.  I hope it will not come to this and am glad these tactics have been at least put on hold.  They still could come in, but I pray not.

Our MP here in Walthamstow used to be an outreach worker herself, so her impulses run in that direction, along with supporting the police, and I hope cooler heads like hers prevail.

All the poor and disaffected young people in the UK have not suddenly gone insane, but they do desperately need a voice.  And to be heard when they do speak.  This may seem like incoherent communication, but it's not really - not if we actually listen.

There are sirens still outside and I can feel fear underneath my calm words.  I cannot tell if something has shifted or there just is a lid coming down over a boiling pot of water.

But I will continue practicing my versions of Julia non-violence listed yesterday.

So far.  So good.