Wordle

The Resistance

I was surprised recently to see a response from one of my friend’s friends on their Facebook wall. This friend…like so many of my friends…like myself included…is currently unemployed.

“Why is it so hard to find a job?!” she exclaimed. Her friend’s response?

“What are you resisting?”

I know a little bit about resistance in a few of its myriad forms. There’s resistance training, a form of strength training during which one performs against an opposing force. There’s the resistance where an individual or group consciously acts against ingrained societal norms like fish swimming upstream through assessing personal day-to-day perceptions or through direct action initiatives like protesting.

Then there’s resistance that’s simply denial, refusal to accept, refusal to look, and generally causing blockages, for better or for worse. Those familiar with the metaphysical law of attraction (like attracts like) can easily unearth ways that resistance can manifest in a spiritual sense and have us subconsciously keeping our desires, hopes, and dreams at bay.

But in a recession (the word itself comes up in conversation around me every single day) where most of my graduating class is unemployed or severely under-employed, what the hell are we ALL resisting? Or, more reasonably, with competition and stakes raised higher than any of us are used to, what could one person’s resistance really have to do with anything?

Opportunity strikes even here…

Fire & Ink Cotillion 2009

It’s Monday afternoon and after a LONG weekend I find myself sitting in the dining room of a quaint home in the southern part of Austin, Texas. No, I haven’t been kidnapped. I actually came here out of free will, which shouldn’t be that much of a surprise considering the rave reviews I’ve gotten about city for years now.

But it wasn’t the excellent Tex-Mex that’s brought me here (though it might be what keeps me). Fire & Ink, an organization committed to Black GLBT writers, had its 3rd Cotillion this past weekend, fitted with a variety of amazing workshops and panels on everything from memoir and lyrics writing to how to facilitate a writing community. Some of my very favorite individuals in the whole entire world presented and performed there as well, including Lenelle Moise, Djola Branner, Sharon Bridgforth, and both Aurin Squire and Andre Lancaster of Freedom Train Productions, which I’ve been working with all summer as part of their playwrights’ open workshops.

It’s been years since I’ve been to the Mason-Stith-Massenburg Family Reunion as dictated by my biology. But this gathering made up for all the ones I have ever missed and could ever attend in the future. Never have I been an environment so self-reflective and affirming of all of my parts.

In addition to being seriously inspired to work on develop some new pieces and work with new genres, I was also thoroughly entertained and uplifted by the staged readings of Sharon Bridgforth’s delta dandi, E. Patrick Harris’ Pouring Tea, and a concert by the effervescent JOMAMA JONES and her Sweet Peaches.

The conference ended on Sunday morning after a panel discussed the very necessary work of making art to save your own life. The Fire & Ink Board of Directors was acknowledged and opened up the floor for constructive critique of the conference, reminding us that the previously decided every-4th-year would be changed to every 2 for the conferences hereafter. It was then that the emotional timbre of the conference really manifested with three of the youngest participants (myself included) brought to the center of the room and four of the elder artists asked to lay their hands on us. Everyone else made a circle around the room and began granting us their wisdom in a cacophony of positive energy. The break down was fast and deep.

It was an astonishing moment for me – having black hands and voices invoking queerness and artistry into me rather than exorcising it out. It was an empowering moment, having all of my internal wisdom breathed onto my body by living beings. It was the moment that I’d dreamed of – having my tribe acknowledge and affirm me. I didn’t know it would be so hard.

No Longer On the Verge…

…of August, that is. It’s here, actually. Right now. And I’m finally feeling ready for life.

But that was supposed to happen at the beginning of June, wasn’t it? At least that’s

what I feel like we’re told via advertisements that tell us summer is what life is for. And I guess I have lived this summer, even if it’s all a blur in retrospect. I moved to NY, I’ve managed to pay rent and still have a good time, and every couple of days I wake up in the bed of a very handsome fuzzy dude that happens to live just a few blocks from my job. It just so happens to be the same dude every time.

Life has happened to me over the past couple of months, even if the summer didn’t start off with my having the highest self-esteem or most positive outlook. But it’s Autumn that really gets my goat. In a good way. Crisp weather energizes me. It’s the next three months’ descent into winter that thrill me and I’m guessing will be close to my most productive all year. I think I’m still on a school schedule in my head and can’t really fathom ever leaving it behind. September is for renewal in productivity. Evil heat and humidity shan’t deter thee.

On that note, I have a lot of catching up to do. In the next week or so, I’ll try to find a way to upload “El Mundo”, my FIRST ZINE EVER, onto this blog, as well as try to find out why some of my story links are broken/missing. One of my other goals is to finish my second zine before the end of August (“QuLT #1″) so I can jump into making a new zine this Autumn. And finally, I need to finish out my work with Freedom Train Productions, which so graciously accepted me as an Open Workshop Participant in June despite my being a lousy easily distracted student who’s significantly more motivated to write for the screen than the stage at the moment.

I don’t believe in missed opportunities.

On Art

Fitting that I should talk about art right now seeing as it’s what’s consumed my life for these past few weeks. Oh no, not my own art. Heaven forbid. No no, the art that has devoured me and all my time can be found in the Creative Time exhibition on Governors Island this summer, This World and Nearer Ones.

It’s been strange working for an arts organization, being inspired constantly by artists’ work from around the world have about no time at all to make your own stuff. I’ve got about a month’s worth of Muse backed up in my creative intestines and, seeing as I’ve been granted more and more time to myself these days, where do I begin? Resume my guitar practice or put some cash aside for a pottery class? And I haven’t collaged in a good long while…

As much as it’s nice to learn about artists internationally, it’s even more inspiring when those artists are close at hand. Like, your friends, I mean. I’m always turned on by others’ passions and pursuits, and it’s always a joy to see someone you know really begin to make waves in their chosen field.

Johnathan Lewis – a Miami native, Boston-resident, and friend of mine – is opening at The Schoohouse Gallery this August in an exhibition featuring the likes of Amy Arbus. His photographic work has focused on the bear community and the divine form of the male body. An article he’s written about his work can be found on the pretty awesomely rad Qind Blogazine site.

And me? I’m off to make art. And love. Of some kind or another.