I was thrilled to be asked by Debbie Millman to be one of 75 designers creating an original print commemorating the 75th Anniversary of Print Magazine. I collaborated with Nick Sarno, owner of Press: Works on Paper, a nifty shop for print & ephemera in my ’hood. We worked with two constraints: we gave ourselves one hour to complete the project, and we were limited to using only materials available in the store. The N is formed from two notebooks, and the R from Richard Avedon’s Portraits. The eyes in I all happen to be female, and the dot at the top is the eye in the wooden sales counter.
Beyond words.
A few weeks ago I had the maximum pleasure of attending an evening conceived of, curated, and hosted by James Buckhouse — called Sensorium. Prior to the event I’d only seen two dance performances in my life — one traditional ballet, and one at Jacob’s Pillow, which featured Stephen Petronio Dance Company. It was seeing the latter company together on stage that — for a moment — I saw the dance, not the dancers; I saw every body moving as one unit. But even that slight reorientation didn’t prepare me for Sensorium. In increasing order from most traditional to most modern, Buckhouse’s movements were intentionally interspersed with moments of pause. There was his intro, his personal story about being first moved by dance, delivered in a very Laurie Anderson cadence. Then, a moment to tweet about and share our impressions of the evening using #HopeCadenza. The final moment was a nearly 20-minute powerhouse piece, Hummingbird, beautiful to hear and see and behold. Colors and light were as minimal and intricate as the accompanying Glass score. (Philip remains one of my favorites — it’s deceivingly simple.)
What moved me beyond words was the narrative expressed through the body. What moved me beyond words was how that narrative was translated through the body and through space and time, how the story was expressed without using words. Two sets of main characters (as I saw them, identified through their clothing) moved together and moved apart. They were intimate and connected, feeling each other’s presence (lifting each other up), and then they were not (pushing each other away). Supporting characters (again, different clothing, and more of them) interacted and entwined, then drifted. I thought about my love in Brooklyn, about his body and how he moves through space, and moving through space together with him. I thought about how he and I originally connected, and how years later our paths crossed again, and are crossing, still entwined.
James’s hypothesis was that after seeing dance, we would express taking it in with shaking it out — so he booked a DJ to spin in the basement (I caught several songs with dance in the title or lyrics, but couldn’t stay for the length of the party). I had the opposite response — I had to go rest my body, yet my mind was spinning about the evening until 2am (rare for me to be up that late, but I was moved and parts of me still moving).
Bodies are false boundaries. Ultimately, we are all made of light and return to light. One masterfully curated evening has made me (re)consider how bodies are (and aren’t) subject to gravity. And it made me love dance.
More on James’s creation of the event here.
Nom Chompsky (a post-modern pop-up bistro)
With Michael Schuler.
Poem, 1/12
cord of black pigeons
on a gray building, gray sky
fog city morning
Trekkin’
Thanks to a friend’s post on Great Circle, it calculated that I trekked nearly 60,000 miles in 2014.
Poem, 1/3
falling folds of gray
careening off a building
newspaper pigeon
Poem, 11/17
California gets
all of the light from the day
accumulated
Where we speak from
When we move through our own constructs, when we speak from the heart and not our thought-ideologies, we create joy for each other. We present our true selves. It is from this space we can truly love one another. When you see or feel this, express it. Share it. Be it.
Poem, 11/6
[with Jim]
Amazonian
toenail polish like headlights
talons blind mine eyes
The week in gay
It’s been a banner week.
I curated and hosted a panel of creative LGBT entrepreneurs at SVA. It’s called Designtrepreneurs, and this was the third in the series (and the first in New York) after two successful events in San Francisco. With almost 100 in attendance, moderated by the incomparable Debbie Millman, and featuring panelists Ben Watson, Executive Creative Director at Herman Miller; Mary Taylor, founder of Salt & Olive; Thomas Page McBee, author of Man Alive; and Ryan Fitzgibbon, Founder & Publisher of hello mr., I was thrilled that they participated, and that so many connections were shared across their individual experiences. Common themes were: living with vulnerability and courage, aligning head with heart, and having faith in your own life.
Two days later, the news of Tim Cook coming out as the first out CEO of a Fortune 500 company — let alone the most valuable company in the world — made me cheer at my 7am Twitter feed. I immediately texted Jonathan Lovitz, spokesperson for StartOut, and other leaders from that org, that we were +1, to a total of 3 out CEOs. Because Tim’s doing it, that sunlit path got a lot sunnier for others to follow suit.
And if all that weren’t enough, I launched an updated landing page for my new biz, and got a fantastic new apartment in the newly minted Potrission (Potrero + Mission) hood.