The Black and White of a Gray Existance

I love the words YES and NO. They are very absolute. It’s hard to defy the resounding stance of a person who is saying NO…..No means No! haha. But we don’t live in an existence where Yes and No are what they used to be. Now we have the descriptors of Maybe, Sorta and Ummm. Maybe it’s because were indecisive or just don’t want to offend, but it lets us participate without responsibility. Am I guilty of it? YES. See that wasnt that bad. Now we all do our little things that gray the line between yes and no…sometimes to prevent conflict, to appease, or even resolve. If you want a prime example of this you need to come to a bar. I’ve spent many a night writing about the dynamic of the local watering hole. Theres something to be understood about the humbling experience in a bar. At 5 in the afternoon you get to see a collection of people and their entourage that you get lost on the complexity of the gray. If you try to figure out the whos and whats, you end up more confused than anything, the key is to try to bounce from point to point in their conversations because there are subtle hints to the fluidity of them. Sitting here I’m listening to a conversation about a gent and his new girlfriend…speaking closely and underbreath…while not mentioning that he has another girl on the side. Thats the Gray. It may not be the most honest thing a man can do, but there’s no honor among thieves. And don’t get me wrong…there are women down here doing the same thing. It’s a game of sorts….a gray game.

I guess what my point is here is that we don’t live in a society of the absolute anymore…no more John Waynes or Sterling Haydens. We live in a dumbed down existence of grilles for your teeth and Toddlers and Tiaras. We dont have those stoic hardheads of the days of old. A hardhead is defined as a person that is stubborn and will not concede….but why is that a problem so much? What does it say about a persons resolve if they stand by something outside of the idea that “we all have to get along”. I want to bring back the idea that it’s ok to stand behind who you are, and screw the majority for the gray! Seriously…wouldnt it be better if you knew the confines of what you were told…and then decided to go beyond it? Thats what spawns innovation. Now that last comment may seem hypocritical, but in all reality it’s not. Being told Yes or No has inspired people form time before antiquity. Why? Because they wanted the YES…or defied the NO. There wasnt this …Gray…where they put on facebook how p.o’ed they were but did NOTHING but bitch about it. See my reasoning? We all have the ability to be great and inspiring persons…but we must deny that gray and understand whats important in our own development….either that or submit? And I will never ever submit.

February 29, 2012 1

Elvis on velvet

I remember when I was younger my mom would take me to this Mexican place near downtown Pontiac. There where hardly any windows and the ones that were there had thick black bars covering them. If I remember it right the place was like this faded green with yellow trim. It had one of those flashing signs outside that listed the daily specials. What was the most interesting thing about the place was the decor. It was a dark and cool place. It seemed even in winter it was a constant 64 degrees. It smelt like old salsa and spilt beer, just that smell of a business that’s been there maybe a little too long and was slowly on its decline. The biggest thing for this young boy were the magical paintings. The black velvet paintings with images of bullfights, mariachis and the latina women doing spinning and dancing. This was in the “dining section”, everything pretty tasteful…maybe a little more revealing than what Mom would approve for a boy of 7, but still a little more cleavage than what she found appropriate. What was magical about the place was the bar. The huge fish tank with snails and angelfish, the old men setting at the bar drinking cheap drafts and listening to Hall and Oates on the old jukebox. What amazed me, and drew me to that area was the beautiful woman who adorned the walls. I guess in the early 80’s the latino community was a tad bit progressive in the area of sexual freedom and expression. These black velvet ladies, with large breasts and hips to match…straddling a tiger or on a horse. Each one a sultry smile and a “come hither” look. This was my first experience with ladies in Art…and I was hooked. One of the biggest ones…the ran almost half the length of the bar was an intertwined lovers…the girl laying back, breasts heaving, back arched while the 80’s hirsute male (mustache included) was obviously on the upstroke. Their midsection covered by a few strategically placed sheets. Below the two lovers, the Siente la Pasion. I had no idea what it meant, but I’m sure it was naughty. Now looking back and my broken understanding of Spanish…I figured it out.

For years I’ve been entranced by that velvet vivacious visual vixen. I could never figure out why until, one of my Ebay searches brought up an Elvis on Velvet. Instantly the memory shot back to me and I felt naughty. I started searching ebay…velevet paintings. There, amongst the burros, the bullfighter and other mexican novelty paintings where the ones I remember from that Mexican restaurant. No ” Siente La Pasion” but still, women painted to reveal their most intimate moments. There were ebony beauties with Afros and the black power fist held high. A milky skinned redhead atop a white tiger, and a collection of latin women all sprawled out in intimate poses. Why did I keep looking? What was the allure? I guess it comes down to this, it was the reality of it. Black velvet gives this depth to the picture, a warmness to their smiles, a vitality. It was nostalgic.

Now don’t lump me into a category of velvet painting pervert I dont have a secret room that is adorned with velvet art. Actually I find it wonderfully tacky, and I would love to have a couple of hanging strategically placed around my home. I think they speak to a time past, I think when I saw Elvis adorn the rhinestone cape on velvet that my true appreciatioin for it was tainted. You then realize how silly it is. I guess we all get like that at sometime.

I don’t know why I felt this was so important to remember, but I guess maybe someday I will get some velvet and write these words down on the canvas. Perhaps someone will read them…their raised deep fuzzyiness, and perhaps grow to appreciate a lost art. For those of you who may have one of these kicking around your house…well…if it needs a home.

February 8, 2012 1

My Sisters Trapper Keeper.

We are all creatures of nature. We are also creature of nurture. So here we go on the longest going darwinian argument ever…or getting into a pavlovian digression. We are people with different experiences and lives. I don’t believe for a second that the woman paying 50,000 dollars for a cloned pooch she had for years before is going to be the exact dog other in the physical form.. Why? Well that argument is obvious. Experiences. The sum of ones life is the experiences we have and endure. Why am I talking about this? It’s because I had lost touch with the reality that many people live with. The pain of loving someone who has interpreted their experiences in a different way than we have. We may be from the same ilk, the same genetic code, the same lifestyle..but those interesting little synaptic firings and our processing mechanisms totally make a mishmash of it. I think the closest one can get, and this is a leap, is in the case of twins. Perhaps they could process things similarly, but still…they are individuals (unless they are connected like simease which just makes this a really odd convo to have)

So here I am with this big deep intellectual conversation and still…what is my point. At some point we look at a situation and try to do our best to process what is right and what is wrong. But….it’s what our perception of it is. You can lead the horse to water..yadda yadda yadda. What I, we, you all have to realize is that we can only protect those who want to be protected. We can only advise when our advice is wanted. Too many times we find out, that we end up being “the problem” in the persons eyes. Just ask any rebellious teen about the iron hand of a parent. No one wants to be the asshole, but sometimes we have to be to keep back the shit. And to justify that descriptor I am going to elaborate. The “shit” that I speak of is the stuff we all have gone through and dont want the people we care about to have to experience, of if they must do it…not to get the peanuts and corn of bad shit.

I had the chance to witness this last night. A friend trying to protect someone, and in the end, feeling helpless because all the love and caring they were showing went on deaf ears and a searching heart. Alcohol is the great equalizer….the great empowerer…. envigorator of the spirit and…the anchor that will take you to the depths of your soul and leave you feeling like death himself just walked over your grave. So how does the pertain to nature and nurture? Well…my nature is to be a pretty mellow drinker–lovey dovey almost. I just want to have some fun…forget about life for a bit…and try not to get the anchor I spoke of earlier. I tend to hang with the same type of people, easy going…perhaps a little wild at times, but all in good fun. Each experience nurtures the next, it keeps it…enjoyable. I guess you could say…limited drama. Then there is the flip side of it…people who find someone else in the bottle. Sorta like that potion that Jekyll and Hyde took. Theres a point where the person changes into something unrecognizable in comparison to the one we know. I think we all have seen it one way or another. And thats what I saw last night, and no matter how much pleading and trying…you are not going to change them unless they want to. Until they look inside and see why all that anger and sadness boils over and comes out….usually in this beautiful train wreck mess…. and we are left to pick up the pieces of them. In the morning come the “sorryies” the ” I was drunks” and the ever popular ” I’m not drinking anymore”. These I have had, on occasion, to use myself. But soon enough….the beer flows, the vodka pours, the shots are consumed….and we find ourselves right back where we were…hoping that this time….this is gonna be the time that it doesn’t happen…but as much as we nurture….the nature of the person comes out.

So I say to you….persons who have travelled that path and come out stronger. Who know the depths of the bottle and the devils and angels that live within. I say to you, know that you can only chastise yourself so much. The choices of others are, their choices. Their experiences. Their lives. Until they want to change, until they take responsibility for their actions, it is a losing battle.

We are all searching…looking to fill something inside…the sadness comes when we don’t know what it is, cause we throw everything in that hole within trying to fill it. The only problem is that we are so desperate to feel loved, wanted, blah blah blah…that we don’t even care if we try to fill it with garbage….and more so…human garbage.

Thats all I got to say…

February 4, 2012 0