About

Strange times.

All about being able to breathe.& interact - move with the world, with each other & nature. .

Too many are dying at the hands of authority unable to breathe. Air purifiers are flying off the shelves. A new entity, more android than creature, can hijack our cells and make it impossible for us to breathe. .We live in different societies. Cut off, before and after the pandemic

The rain forest, the earth’s lungs is under attack.

We breathe. All the time. Yogi or not. The earth needs to breathe too.

Air. Circulation. Refresh. Change. Move. Breathe.

All the lines and boundaries are changing. Somewhere in the mix I find life’s new shapes, the new forms life takes. Letting it all reassemble.

There’s impossible & then there’s ‘I’m possible’.

I’m working on the latter.

It all started when…

We returned to my mother’s island when I was 2. The one with the tall Green Woman, always in deep water, always with a torch. My senses popped open. The passersbye were tropical fish. My mother had a book cart. We sold art on the street.

And there in the circulation system of people from everywhere, NYC, we made our way..

I drank and bathed in all the colors & movement, the mixture of people from every country, the litany of languages, the normalcy of diversity. A fantastic world where our treasures came from nighttime dumpster diving shopping trips, where dangers lurked, and were countered. We lived in a mermaids cave of antique books & art supplies.

We were gypsies. Within the beating heart of a vast civilization, but also outsiders. Sometimes battered, sometimes stronger for it.

Learning to look was my power, my sense of ownership. We had no money, so life was always looking, but not buying. Our true wealth was experience, street music, seeing what was around us, remixing it, transforming it using our own ideas. My mother insisted we act out our days as stories at dinner. We were our own television. The game was to look, not with longing, but with appraisal, scrutiny, perception. To have our own ideas. We were there to see, not to acquire. We were rich in the powers of our own discernment.

I still wonder why I need to create images; moving liquid around, playing with sights and sounds, looking for what happens next, what new combinations might occur. It’s simply how I process reality. How I find out what’s going on. Inside and out. How I evolve. It’s always some sort of mix, some sort of liquid transfusion. A pursuit of finding out what’s up beneath the surface, beyond the obvious. That’s what drives me.

In this day and age, it’s more than ever about finding out what matters, what we really need: individually & collectively, to exist fully with all of our feelings, talking - to us & each other. Leaving behind the imbalances of exchange, the loss of discernment, the overproduction of meaninglessness, that capitalism in it’s rawest form requires.

I’m interested in other reciprocities. Different synergies. Different movements of goods and goodness. Better currencies.

I also grew up with a father damaged by war, a mother traumatized & radicalized by shock treatments administered to cure teenage female rebellion & because of their non-conformity the absence of a safety net. So, yes, while we were surfing waves of discoveries, splashing in stories & refusing to be victims of circumstance, my mother who worked for Shirley Chislolm’s campaign when she was twenty, wore combat boots, took in runaways, was also trying not to drown.

As so many others were also. And looking, I saw them everywhere. People who were over-looked, devalued, not treasured at all. On the subways, in hte parks, in offices, on the streets - and I wanted them to be seen too. Showing & treasuring what goes unseen, showing it’s beauty, is also a necessity for me - because I know what an unseeing world really costs.

So I have to believe it matters. Seeing matters. Seeing more than the obvious. Continuing to imagine. It is all we really own, A currency which transports us into the deeper, more genuine realms, of ourselves & the world, and towards how we can transmit that into what sustains us. A currency of waters within the permeability of movements. A currency electric, running through our brains, through our bodies & our world. A currency of what is happening now, what is really moving through us, active & essential. The currency of exchanging what is vital rather than what is assumed. The currency of sight, moving us forward, powering better stories, transporting us anew.