Thursday, July 28, 2011

This is the summer of new. Learning new forms of laughter. New ways of doing things.

After six weeks in the Dominican Republic learning more and more and more about social movements and the bad ass people who've made them possible, I came back to the U.S. and took a train cross country. It started in New York. The train wound through New York state over to Chicago.

While I was in Chicago, I went to see the amazing Mark Bradford exhibit at the Museum of Contemporary Art. If you haven't seen Mark Bradford in your lifetime, please, please, please - go see his work when he's in town. He is brilliant. I also walked along Lake Michigan and took in the water that is a sea but isn't really.

The train crossed Illinois, Idaho, Nebraska, Colorado, Utah, Nevada and up through the mountains of California until we got to Sacramento. Along the way, I saw so much scenery that when I actually got to the hotel in Sacramento, they have those special "relaxation" videos, and I had to put the one on that was house music because I thought I'd lose my mind in the one with scenery. Being on a train for three days was like Baraka on crack, except it was my life. Still, there was one more leg of the trip: up through the mountains to Eugene, Oregon. Where I've been all summer, learning new.

Here, I've been writing, working as usual on stuff. Lots of stuff, but not so much anymore because I'm learning new ways of walking through time. kt and I have a staged reading of a play we've been working on this year coming up on August 11. I'm excited for it. The play has been really fun to work on - making me laugh as I write (or read what kt's written) - and kt is an awesome director. I head to Austin next week to work on this with her and to visit family, friends, loved ones. I can't wait.

And then, I decided to go ahead and do a performance project for my birthday this year. It's my 36th birthday. So, the performance is 36 daysweeksmonthsyearslifetimes. I learned, as I told a new acquaintance about the 36 day project, that 66 is the number of pornography in 19th century Chinese literature. "Chapter 66," she told me. "It's where the good stuff is." Thanks, M.E. I'll keep that in mind. We could all use a little good stuff.

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