so i was right: i had to take that last post down, too. i thought it was vague enough but no dice. this post is for the artists in play.
i’ve rested up today after sobbing all morning. i wasn’t yet ready to sell James’ motorcycle, but the perfect buyer came all the way up from salinas to test it and get it. he’s baby young with a lovely wife who JUST found out she’s pregnant and they’re so in love! i couldn’t be more tickled because i wanna hold onto EVERYTHING of James’, leave it all right where it is, but i must let go and James would be so happy it’s going to a young capable adventurous young regular working class man who knew how to put the motorcycle up on his little truck all by himself with a ramp. it’s a heavy bike so he accidentally dropped it on the prius in front of my driveway but Sam’s a welder and will probably shrug off the note dear Joshua left. who does that anymore? i love it. and he was all excited as he was looking specifically for a 2001 FZ1, and was all excited about it having a carburetor. it’s 1000ccs and way too big for me, although i tried.
anyhow, i’m tired and don’t want to write on the computer but i’m in play and for those who’re watching, i am taking this moment to let you know this is the part of the 80s movie where we wash the pig blood off and start our own breakfast club.
i’ve been doing this outlandish (to others) “ME” thing since i was little. at first it was unconscious and occasionally adults would come up to me and tell me deep things then LEAVE. now i do the same to others because we “see” and find each other and must help foster the next outsider superfreaks so they won’t waste their talent on the little defiances.
my aim is to not waste all i know and yeah… try and change the world. i’ve done it before. i’ve seen it done before. my parents are masters and i’ve grown up during all sorts of underground secret movements.
coming here to san francisco was one. my friend from Pa Academy of Fine Arts, he told me not to tell anyone when he told me all that was doing on in san francisco in the nineties after the earthquake. we all tell each other. and then everyone knows and blah blah blah.
so that’s one thing i wanted to say. i learned how to start a WRITING thing when i first moved here and learned at Kris Kovick’s knee.
in the last couple of weeks before everything went even more tits up, James had a premonition after i’d said i wanna take care of old and dying people, he nodded absently then snapped his head at me and looked me directly in the eye and with a clear deep voice he said, “NO. YOU WILL WRITE AGAIN AND BE DOING TOURS AND BE PERFORMING AND HAVE EVENTS AND PARTIES AGAIN.”
I wanted to laugh because it feels like that’s dead that no one’s gonna ever go see live store front theatre or go to daring live readings ever again, but i …i KNEW HE WAS RIGHT.
i wasn’t seeing it but there is already an underground renaissance of thought, and that’s where its starts. then music helps it find its beat… and theatre and so on.
so things are dying and about to get a lot worse and real estate is gonna crash. and that’s where it’s gonna pop.
i learned from Kris Kovick, who used to live upstairs, here at 1383A Hampshire.
so with all the bad news i’ve been posting, it’s real but it’s also … it is what it is.
there is always a really bad beat down before i’m propelled into some other bigger better story or different hemisphere. it’s a “thing.”
every time EVERY TIME i got beat up for dancing, i ended up falling into a whole other magical world of people that i never knew existed, people who are the outsiders of society or faking belonging well, and they see you and find you and something good ALWAYS happens because they’re Your People and will be like the magic beans or the lizards who turn into your army in real life and take care of you in a way no one else will. the beat downs are theatrical and there’s an audience and so when i can take a punch and twist OUT OF IT on my own (with God because you have to look over someone’s head as they’re trying to kill you. it’s a weird skill i learned) and that’s how the magic people find me.
i say this because what i’m going through actually means something much grander is about to be birthed. it’s commensurate with the pain and how much i answer it from different fighting defiant but true and vulnerable angles.
i’m saying don’t cry for me, Argentina.
whatever happens i KNOW i’m gonna be alright. i always am. even when my luck runs out and i die, i’ll be alright.
but for how i am, how often i’ve done this and been around similar energy, something is being born on the low and i aim to do my part and blow life into it.
i just needed a day off to cry and sell one big thing. i wanted to keep everything of James’ where it was so that when i was done with all this distraction, i can turn back to him and ask, “okay, you have my attention now. what were you trying to tell me?”
but this morning i realized he’s not coming back.
but He’s with me. and this all hurts right now. but i can take it. i’m willing to take it. it’s the price the cost for being different like this in this world and i’m not a victim. it’s a lesson. i’m open with the process because sometimes it’s not about winning “their” wins. sometimes God works that you win something you never even imagined was possible.
that’s what James was. i never knew to even ask for one of Him and all we had!
so know that i always come out ahead. i’m an artist. and my defiance is …you can imprison my body but my soul will always always fly free and giggle until my face hurts.
that’s quite a magic trick. in the real world there are corners chains and ridicule everywhere.
i only want to see pretty things. i make my world. James taught me how to bypass the pretty pictures behind sofas and make us beautiful.
i’m ahead. don’t cry for me, argentina.
i’m not pollyanna. i’m okay. i just needed a day off and i’m back in round 115. i’m strong. i can take it. because i must. it’s how we have to find our way to build a new world. alongside theirs… and funny thing is that they won’t even see us. we hide in plain sight.
we still look at eyes.
so know it hoits, but i KNOW from being attacked before, it’s also kind of sign you’re doing something right and need to be somewhere else where you may be of service to what new is being birthed and needs midwiving.
i’ve been here before. the dark doesn’t scare me like it used to.
it’s gonna be okay for those of us with souls.
we have to laugh and dance again and not worry about saying wrong words or fucking up. the more you fuck up the more fun it is because you’re TRYING. it’s like how awkward or bad sex can end up being the most fun because you giggle when you fall off the bed.
real estate crash is coming so just hold…hold…but plan what you’d wanna start up locally. it’s all about local next. eyes. laughter. sweat. inappropriateness. questioning. arguing without hate. fun stuff like drinking yeungling porter at mcglincheys.
Gen X not done. that was a premonition i got when i lost everything and went insane and wanted to die back in 2011: “GEN X NOT DONE.”
so time to get back in shape so that we may find each other once again…
now to sleep.
x
erika