The farm was getting quite disorderly. I did the best I could but when I was left the only volunteer, I couldn´t take over all the work. We made dinner for Renato and I bought him a beer.
Ari decided to travel with me to Tulum. I ask, do you have any money? I don´t quite understand this person but he said, ¨trust me. we´re going to Tulum¨ I was either alone or with him to decide in that moment. I decided to trust his ¨way¨ of travel. So...we hitchhiked to Tulum. We made some friends and we are staying with them. Drove in a small yellow car to the cenotes along the coast. Tulum has probably the most beautiful beaches and environment I have seen so far. I´ve been drinking a lot of juice in the hopes of curing my stomach. Montezuma got me.
This ¨way¨of living is very different from the American way. In the states everyone has their seperate private space. Here, everything is pretty chill and communal.
I have so many poems and feelings in these places I go but have difficulty wrapping my head around them and figuring out whats best to write.
Tomorrow, will do my best to collect my poems and thoughts.
Saturday, June 12, 2010
Tuesday, June 8, 2010
Bus to Chichen.
Hopped the bus to chichen Itza this past weekend. Ari needed to do work on the farm and in Goyo´s place so I went myself. I needed to see it for my profound intrigue with the Mayan People. The buses are incredible in Mexico and better than the States. I was dreading a 4 hour bs ride to find myself surprised at how comfortable and AIR CONDITIONED it was. Yes, air conditioned. I don´t like air conditioning usually. Back in the States, my air of tougneness scoffs when people say they need it. Open the damn windows--feel the world, become one with it. But, I swallow my tongue here in the Yucatan. My bus ride in the cool air was its own vacation.
I made a friend on the bus. This small and older woman (probably in her late 60s)sitting in the front of the bus smiled at me when I walked on and got excitedly caught my attention by presenting to me the open seat next to her. There were so many other open seats, I kind of wanted one of my own. I looked at the other seats and she made a ,¨oh that´s fine¨ face. But, I couldn´t walk further anymore. she was just so exicted for me to sit with her and so I did. Moved in my bags and when the bus took off, we spoke the whole way down. She is taking 15 days of travel without her family. Kind of her own vacation retreat. Sounds familiar. Is this solo travel a new trend I´m subliminally picking up on?
We spoke the whole way almost, greatly practicing Spanish. A happy woman with a comoforting energy, she told me about the many beautiful places in the Yucatan there are, making me want to extend my trip for months more. At the rest stop, she showed me where to get tamales for lunch and the bathroom where I don´t have to pay.
We parted at Chichen. I got off the bus, surprisingly, meters from the actual site however, shaded by trees, making it impossible to see unless you pay the fee to enter the park.
Though it was hot and since I was carrying so much stuff, I grabbed a taxi and asked the driver to take me to a cheap hotel or hostel. Wow, I could´ve had a bit more information. But the driver knew what he was doing. We went to one and he asked for me the price. $350 pesos. He turned back to me, ¨esta bien..pero buscamos mas.¨ ¨Let´s look more.¨ Together, we found one for about $200 pesos. Taxi drivers get a super bad wrap here and I have no idea why. I´ve been forewarned me about taxi drivers from family members who´ve ¨known¨ people who´ve traveled to Mexico. ¨they will rob you. Its extrememly dangerous.¨ Well, either they´re being extra nice in order to make up for their bad co-workers or that´s just largely untrue. Put down all my stuff and decided to wander. Another ¨stupid¨ decision. I saw a sign for the sacred cenote of Il Lik and Grutas (Caves) of Balankenche´. I pulled over another taxi driver and we worked out a reasonably price where he took me to both of the sites and waited while I toured.
Was falling asleep waiting for entrance to the Grutas. Finally I entered them with some other people who showed up for the hourly tour. A group of Mexican people on a Yucatan cruise. Caves: vision of sacrifices and ceremonies on the ground, in the cracks of the caves. Kids playing, some praying, some falling in love when they´re teens. Taking dates to the cenote. Down there, I too felt closer to The Earth to worship her.
Grabbed some footage there for theatrical inspiration.
Afterward, the cabbie and I drove to the sacred cenote. No words to describe other than breathtaking. The water was cool! Almost cold and was so refreshing on my skin. Red Bull (the energy drink company) was there sponsoring cliff divers. A boy named Miguel called me over when I was studying the possibility of sitting on the side of the cenote but was a bit afraid. I think he sensed that and showed me where to sit. I sat down on the water ledge and he showed me that I was sitting on an abundant collection of Mayan head carvings. Would´ve never known was was underneath my own sit-bones if he hadn´t told me.
I made a friend on the bus. This small and older woman (probably in her late 60s)sitting in the front of the bus smiled at me when I walked on and got excitedly caught my attention by presenting to me the open seat next to her. There were so many other open seats, I kind of wanted one of my own. I looked at the other seats and she made a ,¨oh that´s fine¨ face. But, I couldn´t walk further anymore. she was just so exicted for me to sit with her and so I did. Moved in my bags and when the bus took off, we spoke the whole way down. She is taking 15 days of travel without her family. Kind of her own vacation retreat. Sounds familiar. Is this solo travel a new trend I´m subliminally picking up on?
We spoke the whole way almost, greatly practicing Spanish. A happy woman with a comoforting energy, she told me about the many beautiful places in the Yucatan there are, making me want to extend my trip for months more. At the rest stop, she showed me where to get tamales for lunch and the bathroom where I don´t have to pay.
We parted at Chichen. I got off the bus, surprisingly, meters from the actual site however, shaded by trees, making it impossible to see unless you pay the fee to enter the park.
Though it was hot and since I was carrying so much stuff, I grabbed a taxi and asked the driver to take me to a cheap hotel or hostel. Wow, I could´ve had a bit more information. But the driver knew what he was doing. We went to one and he asked for me the price. $350 pesos. He turned back to me, ¨esta bien..pero buscamos mas.¨ ¨Let´s look more.¨ Together, we found one for about $200 pesos. Taxi drivers get a super bad wrap here and I have no idea why. I´ve been forewarned me about taxi drivers from family members who´ve ¨known¨ people who´ve traveled to Mexico. ¨they will rob you. Its extrememly dangerous.¨ Well, either they´re being extra nice in order to make up for their bad co-workers or that´s just largely untrue. Put down all my stuff and decided to wander. Another ¨stupid¨ decision. I saw a sign for the sacred cenote of Il Lik and Grutas (Caves) of Balankenche´. I pulled over another taxi driver and we worked out a reasonably price where he took me to both of the sites and waited while I toured.
Was falling asleep waiting for entrance to the Grutas. Finally I entered them with some other people who showed up for the hourly tour. A group of Mexican people on a Yucatan cruise. Caves: vision of sacrifices and ceremonies on the ground, in the cracks of the caves. Kids playing, some praying, some falling in love when they´re teens. Taking dates to the cenote. Down there, I too felt closer to The Earth to worship her.
Grabbed some footage there for theatrical inspiration.
Afterward, the cabbie and I drove to the sacred cenote. No words to describe other than breathtaking. The water was cool! Almost cold and was so refreshing on my skin. Red Bull (the energy drink company) was there sponsoring cliff divers. A boy named Miguel called me over when I was studying the possibility of sitting on the side of the cenote but was a bit afraid. I think he sensed that and showed me where to sit. I sat down on the water ledge and he showed me that I was sitting on an abundant collection of Mayan head carvings. Would´ve never known was was underneath my own sit-bones if he hadn´t told me.
Friday, June 4, 2010
Poet on a Granja
So bold, I´ve jumped. always admiring the jumpers and flyers-to finally take the leap myself.
Woke up a few mornings ago to coffee with honey in my hands.
Ambience of love, peace, the spirit. always music.
Frustrating ¨Mexican¨way us, probably, ignorant call it. 5 minutes--lucky if its one hour. But seriously, my American mind knows things can be done much more efficiently. Can we make a schedule_
I´m prone to brain explosions. The past few days I´ve had them with someone else whom too dreams big. One conglomerate explosion about the next two years of my life. Our lives. To live in India for 6 months to a year--train with theatre of the oppressed federation and in an ashram for a yoga certification. Ari to get his cooking certification. Could be an idea that lasts a breath and then its gone. The fire could be out whenever I suppose. Or it could not. It doesn´t matter. The juice is soaking up the warmth.
Life is a theme park. I choose my ride: the carousel, thriple loop roller coaster, highest of the high altitude drop. Ours for the choosing. some days, it´s a fast ride. Others, scenic. maybe one moment the crazy upsidedown loop to loop. The next, the birdseye view peaceful scenic ski lift across the park.
Woke up a few mornings ago to coffee with honey in my hands.
Ambience of love, peace, the spirit. always music.
Frustrating ¨Mexican¨way us, probably, ignorant call it. 5 minutes--lucky if its one hour. But seriously, my American mind knows things can be done much more efficiently. Can we make a schedule_
I´m prone to brain explosions. The past few days I´ve had them with someone else whom too dreams big. One conglomerate explosion about the next two years of my life. Our lives. To live in India for 6 months to a year--train with theatre of the oppressed federation and in an ashram for a yoga certification. Ari to get his cooking certification. Could be an idea that lasts a breath and then its gone. The fire could be out whenever I suppose. Or it could not. It doesn´t matter. The juice is soaking up the warmth.
Life is a theme park. I choose my ride: the carousel, thriple loop roller coaster, highest of the high altitude drop. Ours for the choosing. some days, it´s a fast ride. Others, scenic. maybe one moment the crazy upsidedown loop to loop. The next, the birdseye view peaceful scenic ski lift across the park.
Sunday, May 30, 2010
Bitten and Beauty
Terribly inflamed mosquito and flea bitten legs. Would love to be outside as Ari prepares dinner but I approximate' having had about 5 mosqitos on my body at one time.
Many reasons this trip has become as if ruled by destiny. Living in a specific random place in Mexico--choosing it all myself of little knowledge prior.
I´ve met someone--Ari--(spiritual name Krishna) a free-spirited and beautiful person whom I´ve been spending my days with.
Many reasons this trip has become as if ruled by destiny. Living in a specific random place in Mexico--choosing it all myself of little knowledge prior.
I´ve met someone--Ari--(spiritual name Krishna) a free-spirited and beautiful person whom I´ve been spending my days with.
Morning Meeting
9:30am
To paint the gallery, weed the front area, mend the hose. To look for new weed to make earth. To make compost. I want my job to weed the stage/performance area, to paint the exterior of the gallery, to make compost.
I sit here listening to the Amelie soundtrack, smelling the food Krishna makes. Watching Sheyla order the sees--she studies, smells, touches, nurtures. Claps everytime a song finishes, `que lindo!´
Taught a yoga class on Renato´s roof at 7am for the new volunteers. I´ve never taught a yoga class before but ´thought why the hell not and lead the exercises. So much fun--realizing how much I desire to teach and do yoga everyday. Could there have been a better place than the roof atop and handcrafted made house overtop the jungle treetops?
To paint the gallery, weed the front area, mend the hose. To look for new weed to make earth. To make compost. I want my job to weed the stage/performance area, to paint the exterior of the gallery, to make compost.
I sit here listening to the Amelie soundtrack, smelling the food Krishna makes. Watching Sheyla order the sees--she studies, smells, touches, nurtures. Claps everytime a song finishes, `que lindo!´
Taught a yoga class on Renato´s roof at 7am for the new volunteers. I´ve never taught a yoga class before but ´thought why the hell not and lead the exercises. So much fun--realizing how much I desire to teach and do yoga everyday. Could there have been a better place than the roof atop and handcrafted made house overtop the jungle treetops?
Friday, May 28, 2010
3 days--mas o menos
Lily is a mix of a free Hippie and German drill Sergreant. She´s got a lot of common sense that I admire and a keen naturalistic intelligence. When attempting to pour the large jug of water into my small water bottle (which was, granted, a pretty stupid way to go) she sharply barks, ´no no no-- that´s a waste of energy and water.´ Her in the room keeps me on my toes.
Two more travelers arrived today. A couple from Belgium on a macrobiotic diet. I find it funny that eating tough meat all day is considered a balanced and healthy diet in the Macrobiotic way--if you´re an eskimo in Alaska, for instance and all there is is meat. Summed up by Bert (one half of the couple) ´seasonal, local, organic (if possible). Their travel experience--terrain to terrain--each a different diet.
I opened my schedule for the first time in 10 days, read the quotes inside the binding ´´life shrinks or expands according to one´s courage.´ When I return home, I want to spend a tremendous time with my family. --take Morgan out, eat good food qith Joe, listen and learn some guitar from Jacob, spend nights sprawled in front of the chininea with my parents listening to the sound of our pond in the back ground. So many reflections from here to there that bring me comfort. Renato drinks a cold beer after a hard day´s work--My dad always cracks one open just the same. Always working and improving upon the property. So many reflections that I think, could my trip to Mexico have been fueled by a profound longing for home? Home away from home?
I hope my family knows that I love them and that my home is the most comforting place of all.
It´s true though--´life shrinks or expands according to one´s courage´ fear is a chain that keeps us. It does not suit us, for only to strengthen oneself to encounter, break, and expand upon the boundaries of the chain. All of life is free.
Two more travelers arrived today. A couple from Belgium on a macrobiotic diet. I find it funny that eating tough meat all day is considered a balanced and healthy diet in the Macrobiotic way--if you´re an eskimo in Alaska, for instance and all there is is meat. Summed up by Bert (one half of the couple) ´seasonal, local, organic (if possible). Their travel experience--terrain to terrain--each a different diet.
I opened my schedule for the first time in 10 days, read the quotes inside the binding ´´life shrinks or expands according to one´s courage.´ When I return home, I want to spend a tremendous time with my family. --take Morgan out, eat good food qith Joe, listen and learn some guitar from Jacob, spend nights sprawled in front of the chininea with my parents listening to the sound of our pond in the back ground. So many reflections from here to there that bring me comfort. Renato drinks a cold beer after a hard day´s work--My dad always cracks one open just the same. Always working and improving upon the property. So many reflections that I think, could my trip to Mexico have been fueled by a profound longing for home? Home away from home?
I hope my family knows that I love them and that my home is the most comforting place of all.
It´s true though--´life shrinks or expands according to one´s courage´ fear is a chain that keeps us. It does not suit us, for only to strengthen oneself to encounter, break, and expand upon the boundaries of the chain. All of life is free.
Feelings and such
I miss the city life. There i have the ability to check my email instantaneously. I know every tweet, facebook event invitation and wall post. Here.it´s quite difficult--being scooped up anyway by the currents of I feel so distant sometimes. Lonely for home. Wondering about my friends, family, what´s going on with them. I resist the feeling of guilt'--but sometimes can´t when my grandmother asks every time I call, ´when are you coming home? Everyone misses you.´ I feel selfish for choosing to travel. But the more people I meet, the more I understand how much I have in common with these wanderers in search for meaning and consciousness.
The land here is fresh. Not all of Mexico. It´s in fact somewhat messy and disorganized. Speaking to the 2 new volunteers that arrived (a couple from Belgium), most of Mexico is lacking in organization in the WWOOF Agency. They say, ít´s the Mexican way.´
But here on the farm and essentially, despite trash scattered here in there (which we also have in the States), the land is indedibly special in the Jungle and Coastal region. The water is warm and for the most part, you can see right down the the bottom.
The land here is fresh. Not all of Mexico. It´s in fact somewhat messy and disorganized. Speaking to the 2 new volunteers that arrived (a couple from Belgium), most of Mexico is lacking in organization in the WWOOF Agency. They say, ít´s the Mexican way.´
But here on the farm and essentially, despite trash scattered here in there (which we also have in the States), the land is indedibly special in the Jungle and Coastal region. The water is warm and for the most part, you can see right down the the bottom.
Interview next week
Questions for Renato: Interview next week!
What is the vision of Aldea Organica (organic village)? What is your vision for your art on the organic village? How many volunteers are you looking for in the next few years? Your ideal vision--unbridled. For life here on Aldea Organica.
What is the vision of Aldea Organica (organic village)? What is your vision for your art on the organic village? How many volunteers are you looking for in the next few years? Your ideal vision--unbridled. For life here on Aldea Organica.
Love surrounds
Love surrounds. Beauteous bath of nature. entrenched, engulfed. Sunken Submerged inside chores--requiring horse manure,inflamed mosquito bitten legs. Amongst--the muse of sacred grounds, He says, ´read me your poems! Sing me your songs! Another. Another. ´be the muse you are´ blessed in sunlight. ýou´ve entered a very special place. ´what do you want? what do you want in life?´ cerra los ojos. Now, envision it. Blessings on my forehead. You´ve got it.
Wednesday, May 26, 2010
There is some unbelievable magic about this place that I dón´t quite know how to explain.
Yesterday: fertilized the plants with the ¨tea¨ (horse manure and weeds), surrounded by the visionary genius of Renato´s scuptures.
Never a chore list or something like that in the morning. That´s a little frustrating for an American or maybe just for me. I like atleast an outline for earning my keeo but I´m expected to know how to take care of everything. I´m catching on but, I feel like I always should be doing something. It´d taken time to let that go a little and just relax and sort of...feel what needs to be done.
Cool and warm movements of water in the sonata. Electric green and black iguanas climb the branches of my tree.
He brings me a flower every morning. ¨Tu rres mi destino¨ Oh, do I have stories.
Goyo´s last night. A place of healing and relaxation. Goyo is gone for 3 weeks but Krishna and Joe are staying on the property. These people have become my family in a short week I´ve known them--is this what commune´s are all about or are these just cool people.
Yesterday: fertilized the plants with the ¨tea¨ (horse manure and weeds), surrounded by the visionary genius of Renato´s scuptures.
Never a chore list or something like that in the morning. That´s a little frustrating for an American or maybe just for me. I like atleast an outline for earning my keeo but I´m expected to know how to take care of everything. I´m catching on but, I feel like I always should be doing something. It´d taken time to let that go a little and just relax and sort of...feel what needs to be done.
Cool and warm movements of water in the sonata. Electric green and black iguanas climb the branches of my tree.
He brings me a flower every morning. ¨Tu rres mi destino¨ Oh, do I have stories.
Goyo´s last night. A place of healing and relaxation. Goyo is gone for 3 weeks but Krishna and Joe are staying on the property. These people have become my family in a short week I´ve known them--is this what commune´s are all about or are these just cool people.
Saturday, May 22, 2010
Working like an Immigrant
Woke in the morning to the sound of birds. Worked all day clearing out this huge dirty room to set up the gallery for Renato's show. I thought I'd be organic farming? Turns out I'm probably performing tomorrow. Speaking to Lily, this is exceptional for the event. Mexican's are HARD workers--or maybe it's just these people but they certainly put in a good day's work. Connection to the construction and garden work Latino and Mexican people do in the states? They truly have a gift for getting hard labor done. Check out Renato's work www.RenatorDorfman.Com
I'm living in paradise here--a rugged paradise ;). I wake up in the morning to the sound of trees nature surrounding me. To the scuptures set up all around the garden. I eat food as much off the land as I can get. Everyone is off doing something creative whenever they get the spare chance or in their daily lives. I am such a city girl--bought fruit today while Lily buys everything she needs to cook delicious meals with. I am lost in that department having spent 4 years in Boston on my school's campus.
Went to the ocean today--the water is clear and blue and warm. I walked in. Rarely any waves. Could've spent hours in there. I floated, played, swam. I sang and thanked the ocean over and over for this moment. My subconscious keeps asking for nature to heal me. As it asked the ocean. I remember my surf instructor 2 years ago. I took one lesson from him. He was extremely goodlooking --a lovely day spent falling face first into waves-quite without grace or poise. I remember him looking out into the ocean, saying, "I feel closer to God when I'm in here." At the moment, I hadn't the clue what he meant though it did make him sound sexier in the moment. Now, I got it.
I'm missing home a lot and Mid May at this time of year. The unknown is thrilling but tiring after a while. Or maybe, I just need to strike a balance within myself so I can be in tune with it. I wish I had more time to write but internet is difficult here...and awkward.
I'm living in paradise here--a rugged paradise ;). I wake up in the morning to the sound of trees nature surrounding me. To the scuptures set up all around the garden. I eat food as much off the land as I can get. Everyone is off doing something creative whenever they get the spare chance or in their daily lives. I am such a city girl--bought fruit today while Lily buys everything she needs to cook delicious meals with. I am lost in that department having spent 4 years in Boston on my school's campus.
Went to the ocean today--the water is clear and blue and warm. I walked in. Rarely any waves. Could've spent hours in there. I floated, played, swam. I sang and thanked the ocean over and over for this moment. My subconscious keeps asking for nature to heal me. As it asked the ocean. I remember my surf instructor 2 years ago. I took one lesson from him. He was extremely goodlooking --a lovely day spent falling face first into waves-quite without grace or poise. I remember him looking out into the ocean, saying, "I feel closer to God when I'm in here." At the moment, I hadn't the clue what he meant though it did make him sound sexier in the moment. Now, I got it.
I'm missing home a lot and Mid May at this time of year. The unknown is thrilling but tiring after a while. Or maybe, I just need to strike a balance within myself so I can be in tune with it. I wish I had more time to write but internet is difficult here...and awkward.
Friday, May 21, 2010
Synergy
Every moment I've had so far has been remarkably synergistic (If that's a word).
I've been eating raw and vegan food on the farm for 2 days--mixed with the food I've eaten in town. Yesterday, Renato was no where to be found and I, a city girl un-known to the life of organic farming walked around aimlessly and asked Julien if there was any work to be done. "Ah, you could do whatever you want. You could read if you want." So...I went into town to snorkel. Fears in the back of my head: I could be drown in the middle of the ocean and no one would know where I was. I decided to stuff my fears and chill out--excepting where my search took me. I was on the boat with who I learned later were 4 Barcelonian doctors on a conference. The reef was remarkable. The instructor was kindof nervous--"este lado porfavor!) Which means this way. I was up there the whole time while the doctors were lagging. Made me feel a little proud. I've always been a very strong swimmer--pushups are a different story. Afterward, they all invited me out for lunch--such great people.
The energy on the farm in magical. These are people all on a quest for some new demention--to vibrate at a higher frequency. I wish I had the time and capability to write long profile descriptions of each person and the insight they have to share. Perhaps in the future...
I've been eating raw and vegan food on the farm for 2 days--mixed with the food I've eaten in town. Yesterday, Renato was no where to be found and I, a city girl un-known to the life of organic farming walked around aimlessly and asked Julien if there was any work to be done. "Ah, you could do whatever you want. You could read if you want." So...I went into town to snorkel. Fears in the back of my head: I could be drown in the middle of the ocean and no one would know where I was. I decided to stuff my fears and chill out--excepting where my search took me. I was on the boat with who I learned later were 4 Barcelonian doctors on a conference. The reef was remarkable. The instructor was kindof nervous--"este lado porfavor!) Which means this way. I was up there the whole time while the doctors were lagging. Made me feel a little proud. I've always been a very strong swimmer--pushups are a different story. Afterward, they all invited me out for lunch--such great people.
The energy on the farm in magical. These are people all on a quest for some new demention--to vibrate at a higher frequency. I wish I had the time and capability to write long profile descriptions of each person and the insight they have to share. Perhaps in the future...
Thursday, May 20, 2010
Acclimation
I ate such a delicious dinner last night at the farm. ´´Krishna´´ made it while we all helped him. When I arrived at the farm the first work I did was clean the kitchen. Everything is outside here--the kitchen is like a screened in patio. Throughout the night I met Lily, Joe, Krishna (a Hare Krishna who looks only about 27), and Susanna. Susanna´s German but lived in Spain for a year or 2, the states for a few, and then consistently back packs all over. These people look so young but I learn they´re all about in their 30s. I sit crosslegged after dinner and listen to Lily´s story. I ask, ´so where do you come from?´ Joe answers, ´´This one?´´ referring to Lily. ´´She´s a talented musician!´´ Lily smiles lightly as if she´s heard that description many times before. She reaches over across the room to grab her CD and shows me the jacket. The lyrics are all about her struggle for freedom as she travels throughout the world. ´´I wasn´t happy in the city of Berlin and the plenty of exams and papers I had to write at the University. So I left in my early 20s to live a life in nature and in various places all over the world. ´´In Germany, I´m a nobody´´ she says. ´´I´ve detached myself from society so I can live closer to the earth. I don´t know. I couldn´t stand the titles--always being something to someone, living out certain parts of myself. It was too much to balance. So I threw it all away so I can be only myself.´´
I understood her completely. Though it made me think of her family and all the people she meant to in her life. Does she still speak to them?
Joe and Krishna argue in very broken Enlish--something about Mayan ritual versus Hinduism. ´´Hinduism is all about devotion. ya ya ya--it´s great but it takes too long. The Mayans believed that we were Gods already.´´
I´ve always wanted to learn about Mayans and I found myself in the perfect place for doing so. There are Mayan ruins all over this area. I´ve named that one of my quests. ´´We are all so powerful. Look around, we´ve created everything. We are just vibrating at the same energy and that´s why we see eachother here. We are all energy and all we see here is the energy frequency we are vibrating.´´
Slept in the dorm in a cot next to Julien--a German Frutarian. He only eats fruit. A dinner we ask if he wants anything. He resists. I ask him about the ethics of only eating fruit but, I´m still working on getting an answer. He´s a soft spoken guy) but quite helpful. He showed me where to get blankets and where to get food in the morning.
I understood her completely. Though it made me think of her family and all the people she meant to in her life. Does she still speak to them?
Joe and Krishna argue in very broken Enlish--something about Mayan ritual versus Hinduism. ´´Hinduism is all about devotion. ya ya ya--it´s great but it takes too long. The Mayans believed that we were Gods already.´´
I´ve always wanted to learn about Mayans and I found myself in the perfect place for doing so. There are Mayan ruins all over this area. I´ve named that one of my quests. ´´We are all so powerful. Look around, we´ve created everything. We are just vibrating at the same energy and that´s why we see eachother here. We are all energy and all we see here is the energy frequency we are vibrating.´´
Slept in the dorm in a cot next to Julien--a German Frutarian. He only eats fruit. A dinner we ask if he wants anything. He resists. I ask him about the ethics of only eating fruit but, I´m still working on getting an answer. He´s a soft spoken guy) but quite helpful. He showed me where to get blankets and where to get food in the morning.
Wednesday, May 19, 2010
Day 2
I am in Renato's house he made himself on his computer with him in the room. This is weird. This is great but, wierd.
It's been pouring rain here almost the whole day. "and we're in the middle of the dry season," "why's it raining," I ask. "It's called climate change. " Renato talks about doing farming by the natural cycles but the coming years have brought unnatural cycles and no dry seasons.
I ate a delicious and very filling meal that Ari made.
I am in the middle of nature. The after dinner conversation was all about the Mayan civilisation. Joe was successfully able to mesh the philosophies of Christianity, Hinduism, and Mayan.
"Blessings"--more tomorrow.
It's been pouring rain here almost the whole day. "and we're in the middle of the dry season," "why's it raining," I ask. "It's called climate change. " Renato talks about doing farming by the natural cycles but the coming years have brought unnatural cycles and no dry seasons.
I ate a delicious and very filling meal that Ari made.
I am in the middle of nature. The after dinner conversation was all about the Mayan civilisation. Joe was successfully able to mesh the philosophies of Christianity, Hinduism, and Mayan.
"Blessings"--more tomorrow.
Tuesday, May 18, 2010
Freakin' out and an Unexpected stay
I've arrived in Puertos Morelos. Stories stories. Alright-I am sitting here using free internet at a bar. The locals sit outside--a man named Tree gave me in ins and outs of everywhere--I received 5 sets of directions to the cultural marquee where i can take yoga classes. I had 2 beers and 4 small quesadillas--not sure if I was going to eat tonight.
I got into a cab from the airport, almost jipped at the price. I bargained for 500 pesos. I figured a pre-paid taxi would be safest than a bus and taxi at whatever stop drops me off. So the taxi driver named Freddie and I have a Spanglish conversation throughout the drive to the farm address. The street--calle 8 is made of gravel with an immense amount of puddles we're driving over. He looks at the rear view mirror at me and says, "ay ay ay amiga."
So, this place does not exist. Atleast, nobody on the street know who Renato Dorfman is. I start to freak out and cry thinking, "I'm going home tomorrow. This is the most stupid thing I've ever done." Freddie touches my ankle, "relax madam, I'll help you." Which is extremely helful--though I know the more he helps me more I'm going to have to fork over.
We just can't find this place until one of the people in a home on the street says, "oh, Renato lives there." Thank God--nerves start to relax until Freddie rings the bell countlessly and nobody is home, granted there's even a red jeep in the driveway. He says "I'm sorry madam--but this is your destination." I again start to cry. Here's to street smarts in a foreign country.
Freddie's great though. He takes me to a hotel in the center of town. The hotelman says,seeing my imability to control my nerves,"the most important thing is to relax. Everything will be alright." he's from the States, which was also comforting. I need to get cash for a room and walk to the cash machine. I run into a Mexican man named Noah. I'm fully aware of relaxed tone of these people. Noah made me feel so much more comfortable. I ask, "is this town safe?' He says, oh yes, you can't get safer than this town." I open my eyes and look around to see actually a very relaxed and charming atmosphere. I'm calmed slightly but still genuinely scared shitless. Where wil I stay? Where will I work?
I enter my hotel room. It's clean but humid inside. I tell the hotelman my situation. He says, "well the msot important thing is to remain calm. That's most important. Otherwise, I'm sure we could work something out. You could even do some reception work here if you'd like." I run into a Canadian woman who again assures me, "I've traveled along for 21 years, this place is one of the safest I've ever found." The woman is so cute and helpful, she leads me to the bar in town where I've eaten, drank, am speaking on internet now, and have met basically all the locals in this small sitting. Are they CHARACTERS. From my understanding, they've come down here because it's paradise. We'll see about that in the next few weeks.
5 people sit around the bar--that they call a restaurant, not a bar. A woman named Sarah--a beautiful woman, off to New York City tomorrow gave me Renato's phone number. She called for me, telling me he is such a great guy and great artist. I had the chance to speak with him. He sounds nice and agreed to pick me up tomorrow. I had no idea I'd be here...and while all I wanted to do is find the farm, maybe I want to stay in this place for a bit. 2 hours ago I had no where to go, now i have options. In the strongest Canadian accident you can imagine, Jusy says "Well now, isn't that just somethin'"
I haven't an idea where I'll head to next. My goal is to live and work somewhere for free in exchange for work so I can tour the town and do my work.
I got into a cab from the airport, almost jipped at the price. I bargained for 500 pesos. I figured a pre-paid taxi would be safest than a bus and taxi at whatever stop drops me off. So the taxi driver named Freddie and I have a Spanglish conversation throughout the drive to the farm address. The street--calle 8 is made of gravel with an immense amount of puddles we're driving over. He looks at the rear view mirror at me and says, "ay ay ay amiga."
So, this place does not exist. Atleast, nobody on the street know who Renato Dorfman is. I start to freak out and cry thinking, "I'm going home tomorrow. This is the most stupid thing I've ever done." Freddie touches my ankle, "relax madam, I'll help you." Which is extremely helful--though I know the more he helps me more I'm going to have to fork over.
We just can't find this place until one of the people in a home on the street says, "oh, Renato lives there." Thank God--nerves start to relax until Freddie rings the bell countlessly and nobody is home, granted there's even a red jeep in the driveway. He says "I'm sorry madam--but this is your destination." I again start to cry. Here's to street smarts in a foreign country.
Freddie's great though. He takes me to a hotel in the center of town. The hotelman says,seeing my imability to control my nerves,"the most important thing is to relax. Everything will be alright." he's from the States, which was also comforting. I need to get cash for a room and walk to the cash machine. I run into a Mexican man named Noah. I'm fully aware of relaxed tone of these people. Noah made me feel so much more comfortable. I ask, "is this town safe?' He says, oh yes, you can't get safer than this town." I open my eyes and look around to see actually a very relaxed and charming atmosphere. I'm calmed slightly but still genuinely scared shitless. Where wil I stay? Where will I work?
I enter my hotel room. It's clean but humid inside. I tell the hotelman my situation. He says, "well the msot important thing is to remain calm. That's most important. Otherwise, I'm sure we could work something out. You could even do some reception work here if you'd like." I run into a Canadian woman who again assures me, "I've traveled along for 21 years, this place is one of the safest I've ever found." The woman is so cute and helpful, she leads me to the bar in town where I've eaten, drank, am speaking on internet now, and have met basically all the locals in this small sitting. Are they CHARACTERS. From my understanding, they've come down here because it's paradise. We'll see about that in the next few weeks.
5 people sit around the bar--that they call a restaurant, not a bar. A woman named Sarah--a beautiful woman, off to New York City tomorrow gave me Renato's phone number. She called for me, telling me he is such a great guy and great artist. I had the chance to speak with him. He sounds nice and agreed to pick me up tomorrow. I had no idea I'd be here...and while all I wanted to do is find the farm, maybe I want to stay in this place for a bit. 2 hours ago I had no where to go, now i have options. In the strongest Canadian accident you can imagine, Jusy says "Well now, isn't that just somethin'"
I haven't an idea where I'll head to next. My goal is to live and work somewhere for free in exchange for work so I can tour the town and do my work.
Monday, May 17, 2010
Graduated...and I'm Off....
I am done---"officially" done. Commencement was this morning. I am sitting on my desk, as it was when I got here. about 9 months in this space. I'm off to far and wide and magical places--I feel it in the air. Maybe that's just Bostonian pollution.
I'm also into the introspective depths of my soul. Can't I just damn relax for a week? I'll figure it out.
Life moves faster than the speed of light. I'm aiming to soak it all up--to trust--to get all I can in every minute. All we have is one life--atleast, in this body.
I'm going to be spending a lot of time by myself on this trip. I'm going to come back a hell of a lot healthier with an earthier perspective. Rejuvenated for grantwriting and funding work for Nicaragua.
Our waiter out to dinner tonight had a french accent. He was a Black man with a fun loving smile--professional fine dining server. At the end of the night, I asked where he was from--"Haiti," he answers. I say, "great! Everyone okay for the earthquake?" his smile lightly dies. "No--lost 4." I didn't have the words to express my sudden clash of reality. My tipsy hand touched his arm, "I'm so sorry," I said.
I had a french martini--pink with pineapple. That got me off to a silly little start. By the end of the dinner, I was closing my eyes to taste every morsel of my delicious food. I was tipsy for sure. My aunt put the phone to my ear to speak with my grandmother and other aunt. All I heard--"please be careful, the kids want to see you, please spend time with us we haven't seen you in so long." It breaks my heart. It breaks my heart deeply to know how much they worry about me and my travels. But, I also have this free-spirited explorative nature. How can I feed both? "Nurture relationships" my good friend and tarot reader says. I am trying. Sometimes, particularly this weekend, I've felt so selfish about all my drive to travel and explore. I hope my family knows just how much I love them. I assure them I will be back. I need to go out, explore, do this.
It's 1AM and I'm still awake, uploading videos from the recital. I need some sleep to get up in the AM--leave at 6:15AM...boarding a plane at 9:28AM. So exciting--liberating--and nerve-wrecking. C'est La Vie.
I'm also into the introspective depths of my soul. Can't I just damn relax for a week? I'll figure it out.
Life moves faster than the speed of light. I'm aiming to soak it all up--to trust--to get all I can in every minute. All we have is one life--atleast, in this body.
I'm going to be spending a lot of time by myself on this trip. I'm going to come back a hell of a lot healthier with an earthier perspective. Rejuvenated for grantwriting and funding work for Nicaragua.
Our waiter out to dinner tonight had a french accent. He was a Black man with a fun loving smile--professional fine dining server. At the end of the night, I asked where he was from--"Haiti," he answers. I say, "great! Everyone okay for the earthquake?" his smile lightly dies. "No--lost 4." I didn't have the words to express my sudden clash of reality. My tipsy hand touched his arm, "I'm so sorry," I said.
I had a french martini--pink with pineapple. That got me off to a silly little start. By the end of the dinner, I was closing my eyes to taste every morsel of my delicious food. I was tipsy for sure. My aunt put the phone to my ear to speak with my grandmother and other aunt. All I heard--"please be careful, the kids want to see you, please spend time with us we haven't seen you in so long." It breaks my heart. It breaks my heart deeply to know how much they worry about me and my travels. But, I also have this free-spirited explorative nature. How can I feed both? "Nurture relationships" my good friend and tarot reader says. I am trying. Sometimes, particularly this weekend, I've felt so selfish about all my drive to travel and explore. I hope my family knows just how much I love them. I assure them I will be back. I need to go out, explore, do this.
It's 1AM and I'm still awake, uploading videos from the recital. I need some sleep to get up in the AM--leave at 6:15AM...boarding a plane at 9:28AM. So exciting--liberating--and nerve-wrecking. C'est La Vie.
Sunday, May 16, 2010
Squirming Nerves in Prep for Mex
Around the table--conversation on Japanese dogs. Sheeba. I drink my second glass of red wine. Classmate's father sits next to me-we converse. He has the widest eyes and utmost enthusiasm in expounding the intriguing history of the primitive and protective Sheebas. If there's anyone who's a dog person, it's him.
The Saxaphone plays. The Cello. Suits, dresses, ties, glass clinks, sparkling silverware.
Pondering upon my overwhelmingly misdirected nervous system--channeled toward the insignificant-- "Are all my residents checked out?--I leave my term as a Resident Assistant at Emerson College for the final semester. My job is done--when will it fully sink in?
Around me--families in ties and fancy dresses are sipping wine, laughing, small-talking, and dropping the belovedly terrifying question, "so...what are your plans after graduation?"
An immense amount of food. I don't know if I'll have any in 2 days--organic farm in Mexico, here I come. Will I get killed by the imfamous crook cab drivers? Will I be mute?--consequencial of my lacking in Spanish practice for the past year? Will I be entirely bored at the farm and drive myself crazy? No time to detox--stuck in Mexico-no friends.
Who the hell will I be when I return? What will I learn? Will I learn more about sustainable living as I hope? Will I get the chance to breathe and write and paint like I want, like I need?
The Saxaphone plays. The Cello. Suits, dresses, ties, glass clinks, sparkling silverware.
Pondering upon my overwhelmingly misdirected nervous system--channeled toward the insignificant-- "Are all my residents checked out?--I leave my term as a Resident Assistant at Emerson College for the final semester. My job is done--when will it fully sink in?
Around me--families in ties and fancy dresses are sipping wine, laughing, small-talking, and dropping the belovedly terrifying question, "so...what are your plans after graduation?"
An immense amount of food. I don't know if I'll have any in 2 days--organic farm in Mexico, here I come. Will I get killed by the imfamous crook cab drivers? Will I be mute?--consequencial of my lacking in Spanish practice for the past year? Will I be entirely bored at the farm and drive myself crazy? No time to detox--stuck in Mexico-no friends.
Who the hell will I be when I return? What will I learn? Will I learn more about sustainable living as I hope? Will I get the chance to breathe and write and paint like I want, like I need?
More to come..
Thankyou all so much for coming to the recital yesterday! I had so much fun presenting my work to you.
It's the strangest feeling--graduation, moving on. My dorm is filled with more and more stuff. What the hell do I do with all these paperclips? Thumbtacks? mismatched socks? Is all the shit we have honestly necessary?
It's the strangest feeling--graduation, moving on. My dorm is filled with more and more stuff. What the hell do I do with all these paperclips? Thumbtacks? mismatched socks? Is all the shit we have honestly necessary?
Wednesday, May 12, 2010
SeekExploreCreate Expose'
SeekExploreCreate Project Expose' this Saturday 11AM 3rd floor of The Steinway Building!
Hope you can make it!
Some pastries, some songs, and my self-written monologue piece.
Hope you can make it!
Some pastries, some songs, and my self-written monologue piece.
Sunday, May 9, 2010
Marblehead
I went to Marblehead Massachussets today to meet with a lovely couple whose house I am renting the last two weeks of summer. After spilling the big SeekExploreCreate vision to former scene study professor, friend, and mentor Dossy Peabody she asked "where will you reside and do your work?" Hm--she had a point. I hadn't quite thought about it...
Granted, this summer is packed with travel already: Mexico May 18th-June 17th to organic farm in Puerto Morelos, End of June/July New York City to visit friends and other lovely people:)....also project networking. A shit load of grant-writing in between all of this and website development.
And then for the last 2 weeks in August, I am renting a home Marblehead from a lovely couple named John and Jean whom Dossy virtually introduced me to.
An artist home...artist's studio...near beaches...kayaks....YES. I'll finally have time to relax, finish off grant writing, and spend time with family and friends.
I arrived to be greeted by John, one of the owners, at the Swampscott station. A man with grey hair and mustache. Our conversation in the car ride over centers on theatre and travel.
Jean, John's spouse with a bubbly and sweet disposition opens the door when we arrive.
After giving me the tour, she asks, "Does this home meet your needs for your work?" Absolutely--I couldn't ask for a more beautiful spot.
John asks, "do you have any more questions?" I knew that they were prepared to answer questions about the house/Marblehead/and the renting process but, I found myself loaded with questions about the both of them and the lives they've created for themselve.
"How long have you been directing?" I ask John. Jean laughs and responds, "when was he born?!" In the car to back to the train station, I ask Jean how long she's been painting. She says ever since she was little--she got into commercial painting and was a graphic designer but once computers took over that realm, she transitioned to different careers. "I liked the smell of the paint and paper. All the physical painting stuff--It was difficult for me to learn to create with mouse clicks." She answers lightly. Now, she paints bags and sells them at the farmer's market, she paints scenery for John's shows at the Salem theatre.
Jean John hands me a book his daughter wrote, "From Rogues to Revolutionaries," about Marblehead. Did you know it is ranked 4th as America's lovliest towns?
I don't know the piece I am going to have come a little less than one year from now. So, I know I will have a piece in a little less than a year from now. That's the goal. That's what I'm committing to.
Yet, I honestly have no clue what experiences the year will bring.
Originally, I planned for some outrageosly exciting story collection: Maybe like about to get get eaten by an alligator when in the perfect timing I manueveur my way away from it's clenching jaws to the shore, writing a memoir about the wild near death experience and how it's made donate everything I own to the Nature Conservancy.
Hm--perhaps some of my most fascinating stories will be inspired by life going on right in front of me.
Granted, this summer is packed with travel already: Mexico May 18th-June 17th to organic farm in Puerto Morelos, End of June/July New York City to visit friends and other lovely people:)....also project networking. A shit load of grant-writing in between all of this and website development.
And then for the last 2 weeks in August, I am renting a home Marblehead from a lovely couple named John and Jean whom Dossy virtually introduced me to.
An artist home...artist's studio...near beaches...kayaks....YES. I'll finally have time to relax, finish off grant writing, and spend time with family and friends.
I arrived to be greeted by John, one of the owners, at the Swampscott station. A man with grey hair and mustache. Our conversation in the car ride over centers on theatre and travel.
Jean, John's spouse with a bubbly and sweet disposition opens the door when we arrive.
After giving me the tour, she asks, "Does this home meet your needs for your work?" Absolutely--I couldn't ask for a more beautiful spot.
John asks, "do you have any more questions?" I knew that they were prepared to answer questions about the house/Marblehead/and the renting process but, I found myself loaded with questions about the both of them and the lives they've created for themselve.
"How long have you been directing?" I ask John. Jean laughs and responds, "when was he born?!" In the car to back to the train station, I ask Jean how long she's been painting. She says ever since she was little--she got into commercial painting and was a graphic designer but once computers took over that realm, she transitioned to different careers. "I liked the smell of the paint and paper. All the physical painting stuff--It was difficult for me to learn to create with mouse clicks." She answers lightly. Now, she paints bags and sells them at the farmer's market, she paints scenery for John's shows at the Salem theatre.
Jean John hands me a book his daughter wrote, "From Rogues to Revolutionaries," about Marblehead. Did you know it is ranked 4th as America's lovliest towns?
I don't know the piece I am going to have come a little less than one year from now. So, I know I will have a piece in a little less than a year from now. That's the goal. That's what I'm committing to.
Yet, I honestly have no clue what experiences the year will bring.
Originally, I planned for some outrageosly exciting story collection: Maybe like about to get get eaten by an alligator when in the perfect timing I manueveur my way away from it's clenching jaws to the shore, writing a memoir about the wild near death experience and how it's made donate everything I own to the Nature Conservancy.
Hm--perhaps some of my most fascinating stories will be inspired by life going on right in front of me.
Friday, May 7, 2010
Criminal for Art?
I woke in the morning to say goodbye to my mom who was in the for weekend and to run to finish my LAST assignment of my college career--a performance at Government Center for my performance art class.
Took the T to GC with a big bag of paper chains we had made the last time we met. Our concept: paper--paper and humanity. Having filled 5 large garbage bags with paper chains, we would interveave them on what we called "the midgets" of government center. We would stand on the "midget" (which is actually a thigh-high cylindrical cement stump which are dispursed throughout the large steps of city plaza) decorated with social security cards, (most photoshopped for security reasons), birth certificates, high school diplomas, resumes and other pieces of paper comprising of our paper identity. Why does humanity need paper to make its existance official?
We began setting up our project in the beating sun: interweaving the chains, posting the documents onto the cement... we're 85% done when an angry security official approaches... "What do you think you're doing?!" he assertively barks at us. He then proceed to say that we will each be fined $200 each if we don't get out of here this instant.
I'm saving up for my summer and The SeekExploreCreate project--I cannot afford to spare $200 plus jail bailout if I were arrested. So, I start cleaning up and telling my group that we'll just relocate. Then one kid from my group, quite adverse to anything but his own ideas that he can vaguely justify, says "dude, let's just do this, what're they gunna do? " "Uhm--arrest us, get off the damn midget" I say. The cop: "you guys don't seem to be moving fast enough, who's in charge?" Another guy in our group asks "why can't we do this for 5 minutes?" Cop: "and what if someone trips on it and then it's our fault?" groupmate "it's paper!"
Ahh: and then the question ensues. Are the cops doing this because they honestly want to preserve our safety? Or, are they doing this because they are afraid of getting a law-suit if something did go wrong?
Was it seriously necessary for the cop to be that forceful? Then again, there was a car bomb in NY last week--cops are on high alert. With the high security measures in this country, what happened to free speech in our Constitution?
But, what if the cop let it go and our project, hypothetically speaking, did turn out to some kind of set-up for a terrorist action?
The cops told us that next time we needed to get a permit. Okay, we can do it with a permit but it would take weeks to get a permit for a project like this nontheless find someone to contact.
Our professors said, "we would be breaking the tradition if the police didn't come at some point this class year." Apparently police visits have happened at least once every year for this class. We're artists--we like to break boundaries.
Where was the art in that project?
We relocated to the common to discuss the project. Though we couldn't do the project, OUR STATEMENT WAS MADE--we needed a permit--a piece of paper--to create this project on the countries obsession/necessity for paper.
The art exists in the contradictions of society. Where's the dramatic question if we just say "screw the cops!" do it anyway, and get arrested over it? Okay, that's a statement and ballsy but, to be honest about myself, that wasn't a battle that I had the umph to choose. Given that I did not plan on this project being a life on the limb endeavor but rather a class-project with a cool/thoughtful conecpt. So, am I a sell-out? I want answers.
You go extreme, you bomb countries. Questioning leads to thoughtful discussion that makes people think about their actions and both sides of the equation.
It's much easier to say"to hell with them," close your ears, cut the connection...
than
"I have opposing ideals but...." listen, engage, and build a connection...
Which is more effective?
Took the T to GC with a big bag of paper chains we had made the last time we met. Our concept: paper--paper and humanity. Having filled 5 large garbage bags with paper chains, we would interveave them on what we called "the midgets" of government center. We would stand on the "midget" (which is actually a thigh-high cylindrical cement stump which are dispursed throughout the large steps of city plaza) decorated with social security cards, (most photoshopped for security reasons), birth certificates, high school diplomas, resumes and other pieces of paper comprising of our paper identity. Why does humanity need paper to make its existance official?
We began setting up our project in the beating sun: interweaving the chains, posting the documents onto the cement... we're 85% done when an angry security official approaches... "What do you think you're doing?!" he assertively barks at us. He then proceed to say that we will each be fined $200 each if we don't get out of here this instant.
I'm saving up for my summer and The SeekExploreCreate project--I cannot afford to spare $200 plus jail bailout if I were arrested. So, I start cleaning up and telling my group that we'll just relocate. Then one kid from my group, quite adverse to anything but his own ideas that he can vaguely justify, says "dude, let's just do this, what're they gunna do? " "Uhm--arrest us, get off the damn midget" I say. The cop: "you guys don't seem to be moving fast enough, who's in charge?" Another guy in our group asks "why can't we do this for 5 minutes?" Cop: "and what if someone trips on it and then it's our fault?" groupmate "it's paper!"
Ahh: and then the question ensues. Are the cops doing this because they honestly want to preserve our safety? Or, are they doing this because they are afraid of getting a law-suit if something did go wrong?
Was it seriously necessary for the cop to be that forceful? Then again, there was a car bomb in NY last week--cops are on high alert. With the high security measures in this country, what happened to free speech in our Constitution?
But, what if the cop let it go and our project, hypothetically speaking, did turn out to some kind of set-up for a terrorist action?
The cops told us that next time we needed to get a permit. Okay, we can do it with a permit but it would take weeks to get a permit for a project like this nontheless find someone to contact.
Our professors said, "we would be breaking the tradition if the police didn't come at some point this class year." Apparently police visits have happened at least once every year for this class. We're artists--we like to break boundaries.
Where was the art in that project?
We relocated to the common to discuss the project. Though we couldn't do the project, OUR STATEMENT WAS MADE--we needed a permit--a piece of paper--to create this project on the countries obsession/necessity for paper.
The art exists in the contradictions of society. Where's the dramatic question if we just say "screw the cops!" do it anyway, and get arrested over it? Okay, that's a statement and ballsy but, to be honest about myself, that wasn't a battle that I had the umph to choose. Given that I did not plan on this project being a life on the limb endeavor but rather a class-project with a cool/thoughtful conecpt. So, am I a sell-out? I want answers.
You go extreme, you bomb countries. Questioning leads to thoughtful discussion that makes people think about their actions and both sides of the equation.
It's much easier to say"to hell with them," close your ears, cut the connection...
than
"I have opposing ideals but...." listen, engage, and build a connection...
Which is more effective?
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