Governor’s Island

Today was a long one. As I rushed out the door to the subway station in order to get to work on time, I remembered to be grateful for the day gifted me and felt prompted to feel especially grateful for both the predictable and the unpredictable. I don’t know how I could have expected less than the latter during intern orientation day at the very unique Creative Time office. After TMI about office procedures, I was made to take an unexpected trip to Governor’s Island where a bunch of large scale installation art is being put up at the end of the month by artists from around the world working with the organization.

It’s a really beautiful green space and, of course, there are very few of those in NY. I wonder how many people actually take the time to take the ferry out there during the summer. It’s definitely in my plans to, outside of work obligations. Part of my plan to make my NY experience wholeheartedly mine…to really make an effort to find what I need and incorporate those things into my life in hopes that they’ll help me thrive. It’ll require spending a lot less time in front of this clunky piece of machinery and a lot more time on my bike.

Summer isn’t the time for me to feel like a clunky piece of machinery, either. To the Y or Bust!

Re-Member: Volunteer Work on Pine Ridge Reservation

So I think it’s about time to give closure to my experience at Pine Ridge (from about six months ago) and post about it. It seems a world away now, like a vague dream, but one that profoundly affected my academics, the way I see America and my own sense of home and post-undergrad possibilities.

Arriving at Rapid City Airport in South Dakota, I was met with the state’s tourism and development advertisements. I was really curious to see how the state framed tourism and development in lieu of its obviously displaced Lakota demographic. I was pleased to see a large Indian statue at the entrance to the gift shop and an advertisement meant to lure white families to South Dakota as a “career opportunity” awaited them. I couldn’t help but think back to PBS’ The West series and how, well…nothing has changed. The same lure and the same ignorance.

This is not an easy conclusion to come to, mind you. I recognize South Dakota as a U.S. state, etc. It’s 2009, I know. But the irony is unmistakable and I’d be less jarred if I hadn’t been studying westward expansion for the past few months.

Moving on…

sick

sometimes i feel like they hate me
because i know things won’t be good
until the lessons are learned
and the ceremonies are done
until i weep in new ways
and reach further than i can grasp

both doubt and belief make me think i’m insane
they nod and say
“this is the road they all go down”

it’s that the becoming is so loud
and so necessary
for everyone involved

and at this point
i’m more afraid of pain
than even rationally acceptable

can’t shake the gaps between the anomalies
the dreaming turned waking too much to bear
and the omen after omen
after shudder

Dear Blog…

Nearly a 6 month hiatus. I hate making excuses, but senior year did try to tear me apart like a rabid bear. And not the kind that I like. We will reconnect this week. I promise.

Love,

Chiron

More Recent Notes From the Journal

Sunday, 9.7.08

I dreamt about bats last night. Large ones, as large as I am, in an alley with me at night. Three of them. One was two-headed. I was at least partially aware of the fact that I was dreaming and I asked myself, as they moved around me, if they were my totem animal and, if so, what qualities of theirs might be important for me to incorporate into my life. The only adjective I could conjure was “aggressive”.

Tonight (after the day had ended), I was walking home when I heard a sound and saw three bats swoop into the sky above me. I’d never seen bats fly in real life and I haven’t seen a bat in-person at all since I was very young.