Brothers and Sisters and MotherFuckers

Which one are you?

On Wednesday night I attended Brothers and Sisters and MotherFuckers at PS122, an original piece created by Dynasty Handbag, AKA Jibz Cameron. After taking her persona class at NYU, and talking about family, persona types and trauma, I wanted to see the work she had put so much time into.

The show was ambitious-- Dynasty played all four characters in the show! The protagonist, the bratty younger sister, the miserly, overly talkative and concerned older sister, and the well intentioned, "good guy" brother. The three siblings were all performed via video, and Dynasty acted with them in real time, creating an interesting dynamic of real and recorded. Her timing was impeccable, I almost forgot we were watching videos at some point.

As stated in the show at the beginning, "This is a story that has been told a million times....". However, the irony and compelling characters make it worth watching and a perfect holiday show to remind you exactly why you don't want to go home this year. The show's insight into familial banter at the dinner table during the holidays is keen and witty.

I have so much respect for Ms. Handbag and her ability to pull off such an incredibly monstrous performance feat. You can definitely see how much work and tireless effort was put into the show.

I am left with trying to match my family to the characters....and who am I? I am an only child, so I'm not a brother or a sister....but am I.....?

Crave me together

Desire with no where to go, festering inside these organs that just sit here, doing nothing. Movement amongst the silence, taking upon the qualities of madness, for my lover, 3000 miles away, is fading from my physical memory. I am ready. Take me. But don't leave. I will fall apart.

Creation

Temple

Love

sacrifice

joy

money

debt

doubling

dying

finding

exacting

cutting

looking

feeling

tension

hands

fingertips upon writing me into poetry

gaze always follow from the male's eye

follow follow

find

is

another

word

for

dis(cover)

me

Grasp

Our bodies stayed silent, while our hands said everything.

Forgiveness

I am asking for forgiveness. To clear the air. To get rid of this muddled, tainted feeling that is relentless. I have put myself out there, standing alone.

Will you meet me half way?

Hello New York

A new life, a new chapter. I have started school again. I am a student again. Broke and educated, beautiful and loving I hope this leads to something. We can all try our best and hope for the best and just work towards a goal.

I felt lonely the first couple of days. My life, my identity was stuck in L.A with everything I left. I miss my friends, my boyfriend, my family.

But I am going to define myself now....work on myself. I am going to travel to Mexico and study with Zapatistas (how rad is that?).

Finding myself in this crazy world and crazy city.....

Flames of light

I was reminiscing this week about all of the people that have come into my life and then gone. Whether lovers or just friends, some people seem to be there for a certain period of your life, then vanishing as quickly as the wind that brought it there. After starting to get a bit melancholic over the situation, I then thought to myself that it seemed that everyone i was no longer with, had served its purpose during that time.

People are like little flames of light that come into your life. Some are just a spark, some are a long simmer, illuminating your world for a lifetime. But sometimes, with those ephemeral sparks, we want more and we try to create that spark again, but it is dead. The absence of light and heat is daunting, but there usually is a candle, standing sturdy in the background.

keeping the light alive and enjoying the sparks that have passed.

The title is everything, for which, in this, I have nothing

The presence of her is still here.
Our parents are not what we'd want them to be and the past is a constant reminder of the things we haven't done. The future mocks us with possibility, and we jump higher to catch the carrot.
Feed me, my love.
Package me and sell me, to the masses.
My soul covered in bubble wrap and sent to India.
You will find parts of me everywhere.
This is globalization.
Soon my thoughts will automatically be twittered into the universe.
there will be no use for these mouths, these bodies, except to suck the life out of each other, with a simple kiss, which will remind us of the simple things, the way they were before.