On modus operandi

Ha!
Engaged to his art he was, so wrote the chokehold cajoling poet...

I'm on my last hours in Tábor-- roughly 36 of 'em left, it's two in the morning, and damn... yeah, should I return home? Were for it not the nag of filling the vault with bullion, I'd seriously have to consider that initiative. Life throws one miracles, certainly. I cannot explain the life I've been given; and I choose not to question this with any great depth. Yet?
Yet, yet, yet... I know the force of optimism. I also know some of the of lives I have lived simply MUST be left behind. Tábor represents something l never want to leave. It's been no picnic, yet (yet yet yet) it's been huge, mind blowing... I've discovered strengths and methods in patience I'd failed to see, allow, or understand myself capable of. Returning home in a week, I can only hope that this rejuvenation will furnish me with future adventures. Time will tell and the time is late, so I should schlep off to bed.

Postscript. I wrote this last night and decided to sleep on it... you know, see if those words had any currency in the waking light. It turns out that they do. I still question the giddy optimism I feel, finding it to be such a contrast to another world-- the world called home. It's not home per se, but who I'd allowed myself to become there. Filing the application to CESTA was me putting blind faith into processes I knew I had but also knew the person I was at that time wasn't up to snuff. And so?
The words will remain.
Damn straight.

(eyes used for tooth support)

I haven't forgotten solhushfandango

matt...are you...engaged? do tell.
also, when are you coming home? we have extensive plans in place for your homecoming.

let's try something...

remember how we chose the name for this blog - each putting in a different word, then combining them?
let's do that again, but write a poem together, line by line. what do you think? I'll start.


"on mornings like this, when the rain comes down..."

Gush

Gush
Gush again
Gush, gush
Gush again
Gush
A few more gushes
Then you're done!


(eyes used for tooth support)

Six and six

Is twelve.
Enough said.
The mystery life and wife of abstaining from full mental conduit has been a' running and a' mucking. The proverbial moon honey is still sticky, for sure, but wedged in bald tires somehow doesn't make for the best hard street curves and grinds. Not so tough a day as expected... I realize persistence with art practice-- even if it's the last thing you wanna be doing that day--isn't such a bad thing; even doing th' stuff when you don't have any desire to be doing it is still better n' going on accepting a deadening life of keeping up with all the suckerfish. I hold tight to my breath and dreams these days. Today, Jérôme and I set to rehearsing our opera with electronics; earlier, Rhys and I get a shitload of material runs done, not to mention a few tweaks to the installation. I'm also preparing for my own workshop tomorrow on mic-building, so a batch of cables get their skins stripped and readied. After dinner, it's a fun workshop on impromptu songwriting and diggit: choir! After that, some quick video footage grabs, tech discussion (we're pushing 11pm at this point), and now a moment to drift... did I mention the wedding I'm presiding over on Friday? Ooeesh!
I need a week to assemble the ass end detail minutae; saving the conceptual overhauling (the nitty gritty teethsinking) for last. It's the best part, the Oreo vs the afterdinnermintonyourpillow. Port vs a crappy gin drink. I detest gin anyway, so no lost battles. But it's the conduit: this week is workworkwork. We'll get it done in one form or another, fingers crossed, eyes tied!

(eyes used for tooth support)

"pioneer" (cause i said i would..)

the paling light is familiar, but it is a liar. it forces one to think of this time, which occurs and passes each day, as constant, but it is a liar. the creamy, orange glow is earlier than yesterday and, in turn, will sneak upon us, charms and all, even earlier tomorrow. i trace the lines of barely visible clouds... its 6:54PM, the day is ebbing and, with it, thoughts are pulled outward by some strange yet powerful undertow. i am told to seek shelter, build a fire, wrap and warm the young... but i don't - i can't. i, like this day, am fighting against an end that is aware of me before i even see the beginning -- i am man, modern, sleek with satellite thoughts and power-steering. i look up, down and blink and the creamy sky has passed and now a milky grey exists -- milky white like a aged wedding veil, one kept for a thought, a tear-jerker, a memory. i press my face to the window and feel the warmth that exists outside and probably will for hours, if not days, to come. my breath fogs up the glass, it turns a similar shade of milky white as the back-drop-sky... milky white, like a memory.

(lunch break memories...)

someone had to...

Amidst the chaos, there's this...

100 euro fine for getting caught putting up a flyer!

(update!) Mama, Mama, many worlds I've come since I first left home

'94 Ecuador
'96-'97 Ecuador
'99 Spain
'99 Grenada
'99 California, Oregon, Washington
'01 Scotland, England, Wales, Ireland, N. Ireland
'01-'02 England, Germany, Switzerland, Austria, Holland France
'02 - '03 Belgium, Luxembourg, France, Germany, Holland, Switzerland
'03 - '04 Switzerland, Germany, Belgium, Hungary, Austria, Italy
'05 France, Germany, England, Wales, Ireland, N. Ireland, Scotland
'06 France, Spain
'06 Ohio, Indiana, Illinois, Kansas, Colorado, Utah, Nevada, California
'08 Arizona, New Mexico, Texas, Oklahoma, Arkansas, Tennessee, North Carolina
'09 Ireland
'09 Switzerland, Finland, Estonia, Sweden, Norway, Hungary, Slovakia
'09 Ecuador

to be continued... (but of course!)

And on some in...

And a little Prague, while we're at it...

Horns and porpoises

When in Rome, get naked.

The wifi signal fortunately stretches to the back garden here, and so, with a sudden burst of sun, I can simultaneously get vitamin D and prattle on about the usual non sequiturs that seem to have become regular clientele in my life this past month or so...

The group I've been assigned to is fucking amazing. In fact the entire batch of international artists an' peeps here are as such... a lot of strong personalities, ideas, points of view; and it's wonderful to mix us all up in a communal living arrangement. Thus far? We've all done a heap of bonding, trying to figure out which-exact planet it is that we've all landed on; now it's the next two weeks to blast out our smaller group projects.

My particular clutch features an opera singer and two installation/video artists... the dynamic is electric! It's been a busy afternoon hatching the actual physical plan for our construction: basically building an installation that incorporates live video feeds on top of performance-- a little hairy from the onset, but there are four of us working, vs the one-man shows I'd been doing in Leipzig. Shit should happen, otherwise? Heh heh... who knows! All I know for sure is that this is a passage of give and take; see where artists will be able to bend with their ideas and egoes. It's interesting in that Cesta (the headquarters here) is SO inviting, warmly welcoming its artists under an umbrella of enthusiasm and high hopes. The funny human dynamic enters in when you start to come up with an actual GROUP participatory project: learning to listen, respond, and welcoming the fact that yr precious concepts, well? Might not be so precious afterall! Rule one: jump on in. Rule two: learn to adapt! Rule three: ignore Rule two! Rule four: forget where you are. Rule
seven: don't forget six and five. The other rules that follow? Hee hee. Did anything really matter to begin with? Mix well and repeat.

(eyes used for tooth support)

renewal

well, it hit me. it was in the mail - not sure if it was posted prior to my trip to ecuador or not... but it hit me. maybe it was the 3 different continents, the 8 different time zones or 8 different countries, the 9 different flights, or the elevations ranging from sea level to + 462 meters, to sea level to +2,850 meters, or perhaps it was traveling from 43°54′47″N 69°57′13″W to 47°22′N 8°33′E to 71°1′8″N 25°47′50″E to 0° 15′ 0″ S, 78° 35′ 0″ W... maybe it was the diet (and water!!) shift from stale bread, pasta and cheese to soups made from locally grown veggies with quinoa, rice and beans ... whatever it was i fell asleep and didn't wake up for a day. (OK, i awoke to have some of annas rockin' chili!) in all honesty i think it was finally the realization that it is over (for now) and that i'm home. i was back at work so quickly that i was still in some sort of partially removed, dream-state in which i was executing actions but wasn't here or there or anywhere. it has happened before, but i think that my voyage this summer was quite different from previous adventures. i feel full - satiated. this, of course, is not to be confused with content (which i am!) but i am currently working on a winter get-away. i use the word full in the sense of volume or mass... that i have been rinsed and replenished -- maybe it is spiritual. heading to the nordkapp gave me a renewed sense of self and independence; that, more or less, "its me, here and now and thats it and its grand!" mentality. i could feel it creeping up on me during those long, sleepless nights coated thickly in a non-stop solar buzz and journal ramblings that still leave me winded and baffled. ecuador (even more so the beautiful mystics and unearthly natives at yachay wasi) took that new (or renewed) sense of self and guided it further down the rabbit hole -- (evidently that hole runs from the tip of europe to a small andean nation... ) they introduced me to a better sense of self, faith, community, hope for tomorrow, pride in today and the ability to regress to a childlike state when it comes to believing in dreams. so, is it spiritual? is that all that exploration is -- a prolonged glimpse into ourselves wherein we discover strength, wisdom and.... (dare i say?) god? i guess the true beauty is that it is all individual. what i consider bliss is someone elses agonizing 2-hour wait on the tarmac of miami international. what tastes of sweet enlightenment in my mind is anothers sleepless night drenched in whiskey, sun and frigid winds in the back of a van en route to the end of europe...

matt, i am glad that youve arrived at your new home for the next month. are you settling in? getting the feel for the place? i think i asked you, but what was your project proposal? did you have to submit something in writing or is that worked out upon arrival? i hope that you return with a similar feeling and sense of renewal that i've been graced with, my friend! (i hear you're the front man for "master destroyer" with ryan and me! save your lungs, you'll need 'em!)

molly, looks like we are working together next week... weird, eh? cant wait to sit and share stories of adventure and discovery! i wish you a safe journey back! as i'm sure you already know, reverse culture shock can be an amazing thing! buckle-up! :)

i want to have a sol-hush-fandango party when we're all state-side! i think a re-watching of "euro trip" is a must! :)

miss you both!

Land Gauge Barrier

Friendlies.

Arrived in Tabor, CZ today, where I'll be pouring soul into sessions for the next month. Oh yes, and the opening night in Leipzig was utterly delicious, by the way... so good, so perfectly silly. Alas the video (which sums things up best) is too large to upload to youtube. Gah! I'll show you 'pon return. 

Anyway. Tabor. 

No inkling what to expect!

I've landed, after a spectacular trip across the rolling dark green of central Czech with the train window down and the entire cabin to myself, just laughing, really! I can't explain it other than that any previous trip I've made has never really had a DESTINATION. Crossing through lovely lush pine forest and wheat fields and ponds, I found myself suddenly without a care in the world for my previous senses of hesitation (long story). I felt as though things were strangely young again, reversal of selves to the younger me, flying blind en route to or from maybe Bratislava or Istanbul or Calama, yet tuned or tethered to stronger senses of purpose. Funny how a train ride can occasionally have this paradigm shift. 

Upon landing, I'm greeted with a  big hug from CESTA director and my project coordinator, Hilary. Thereafter, hugs from Rhys, Mel, George... and meeting all these other artists from here, there, everywhere, soon to number twenty six in all. I haven't seen the full space yet, nor the actual surroundings, though I know it's miles of green and stucco tiled roof and chickens running about and well, sorta' this art camp, for adults. I mean shit, we even share sleeping quarters... dorm style, in the top of the building (which I gather was at one point a mill of sorts). Hilary laughs and assures me that "we're not (expletive)(expletive) hippies"; as while there's a sense of communal cooperation and shared responsibilities (cooking, cleaning, etc), she also tells me she's looking forward to the anarchism I'll bring to the residency. Secret's out! She knows!

So?

Tomorrow is arriving all too soon. But to tell you that I've landed is understating. Wednesday I'll take some time to suss out the lay of the land and get the official roster of things to-do as well as what's expected. George, the other coordinator (and friend) has already filled my head with the possibilities as well as the somewhat comedic dramas that have transpired in the past (shove a number of potentially single, horny artists into a dorm-style situation? You figure it out). Overall, the prospect of this being an odd little petri dish for all types of incubation has me smiling and wondering what the hell's going to happen. Eh? We'll see. Creativity's musty fostering! Eww...