Showcasing and inspiring creative living in Washington, DC (more)
Wednesday, July 30, 2008
Creative DC Links of the Week
So this is a new feature I plan to do each week from here on out - a roundup of links to interesting articles and sites that I stumble across in my Web travels, and think would be of interest to you, my creative brethren:
From NPR: Using discarded grocery lists to come up with characters for performance art (hat tip to Letty for sending this my way)
backdoorjobs.com, a directory of "short-term job adventures" (categories include 'mind, body and soul quests' and 'sustainable living and farming work'), found via the Escape Artist blog (its tag line: "The Creative Liberation of an Ordinary Wage Slave")
Dinner. Saturday night. My friend whips out her cell phone. "This guy cut me off," she says; "this one wouldn't let me merge."
She's showing me a series of photos on her phone, of cars that have "pissed her off." This is her new tactic for road rage management: don't get mad, just whip out your phone and ready, aim - click. "It really freaks people out," she tells me, grinning.
I'm reminded of the movie Smoke, in which Harvey Keitel's character takes a snapshot, every morning, of the intersection outside his smoke shop. It struck me at the time, and has stayed with me ever since - what a way to mark the day, and all the days of a life.
So Sunday morning, after my husband had performed his weekly ritual of making a colossal bagel sandwich, and its Bloody Mary sidekick (filled with all kinds of fixins and spices - no simple mix-plus-vodka, no siree), I whipped out the camera, and plan to do the same for every Sunday to come.
The view from your front porch, the bus stop, the sink in your office kitchen... what can you chronicle in photos? And how does the act of capturing your environment in images change your relationship to it?
Three cheers for Kate and Laura for the wonderful features they contributed while I was away - an essay on mining our dreams for ideas, a film review/meditation on what constitutes a "real" cultural experience -- and, of course, an interview with the one, the only, Jeff Krulik, who reminds us that the DC area is so much more than the bland stereotypes represented in its mainstream depictions.
I hope they'll come back in the future (in fact, I think Kate is already working on another interview), and if anyone else out there would like to write a guest post, or has a story idea, please let me know! I'd love to have more CREATIVE DC readers become contributors.
While I was at the beach, I realized that I, Amanda Hirsch, am an Internet Addict.
My name is Amanda Hirsch, and I am addicted to the Web.
It started out innocently enough. I thought I wanted a tech holiday, and said as much on this blog. I loved being completely unplugged when I was in Vieques last month, and have gotten into the habit of taking at least one day off from my laptop (and the Internet) every week - I've found this is critical to keeping my creative juices flowing. But there I was, surrounded by ocean and sand, and a little voice inside me said, darkly, "give me my blogs." (I wanted to check the dozen or so blogs I read on a regular basis - a subset of the longer list of blogs to which I subscribe.)
My inner dialogue proceeded as follows:
"No! You're at the beach. You should relax."
"But - "
"No! Don't open that can of worms. You'll get sucked in and miss this beautiful day."
"But what if I really want to read blogs? Why is that so different than reading a novel? It's not like I'll be surfing aimlessly. "
"Well...maybe...I guess that makes sense."
Then, approximately 15 minutes later: "Oh, it was so much fun to read my blogs, I think I'll check a little email..."
"Alert! Alert!"
"I know, I know, it sounds bad. But I won't check work messages - just emails from friends."
And so it began.
Now, reading back over this, I realize you may think I'm making Something out of Nothing. So I logged on for a bit - I thought I wouldn't want to, but I did. What's the big deal?
But look at the language I used. This is not an exaggeration of how I think: I have gotten into the habit of considering the Internet a villain, like the ghostly devil on an Absinthe bottle...a persuasive demon that whispers, "I'll just check my email," then traps you in its flourescent glare until finally, hours later, you claw your way back to daylight and The Real World -- the birds chirping, the breeze in the trees, your dog at your feet. You got out -- but will you be as lucky next time?
Does this sound like someone who has a normal relationship to using the Web?
--in case you're hesitating, I'll answer for you: No. No it does not. It sounds like someone who is terrified of the Web's power. Of the power of an invisible (to her) network of tubes that connect her to information through her teeny tiny laptop computer.
This fear is why I've been doling out Internet Time to myself in pre-determined chunks, and taking breaks from it, like an alcoholic weening herself off the sauce, proving to myself that I, not the computer, am in control - but at the beach, as my fingers crept towards that shiny silver Blackberry, I suddenly realized: the fact that I put so much mental energy into whether or not to log on is a sign that something is Seriously Wrong. Hating - and fearing - the Internet is not rational.
And here I thought I was a well-balanced artist who was just a bit of a Luddite.
So why am I "afraid" of the Web - or, more specifically, of 'losing time' online? I think maybe it has something to do with the physical experience of using the Web - I get sucked in, like a child staring at the television (it's terrifying to see my 9-year-old nephew when the TV comes on - he goes from scampering about to frozen in space, an automaton with glazed-over eyes); my shoulders hunch, my neck gets stiff, I sit in the same position for hours, and it's like my senses shut down: when I emerge from the spell, I remember, 'oh yeah, my dog is right there,' or, 'wow, I really have to pee.'
This is not good.
But even when I'm not in full-on Internet automaton mode, the fact that almost all of my work, and my writing, is conducted on this little electronic machine, kind of freaks me out. The drama queen in me wants to say, "My whole life is typing!" Which is of course an exaggeration - while many of my days are spent at the laptop, my evenings are spent with friends, doing improv, watching movies; and my days themselves are broken up with meetings, yoga, errands, etc. So why does it feel like 99% of my life is conducted through my laptop? And why does that freak me out so much?
I don't know. But here I am, on my first day back home, sitting on my porch, typing.
Let's start this out right with what may be everyone's favorite clip:
Heavy Metal Parking Lot is a highly addictive short film about heavy metal fans tailgating in the parking lot of the old Capital Centre in Landover, MD, before a Judas Priest concert in 1986. Jeff Krulik and John Heyn are the local filmmakers behind the documentary and have a flair for capturing unique stories in the DC area. Jeff hails from Bowie, MD, and John from Pikesville. I recently had the opportunity to ask Jeff a few questions about the work he and John did on the parking lot series, as well as his own work.
How did the parking lot series come about? Where did the idea come from? (I can't watch Heavy Metal Parking Lot without having hilarious, late-80s high school flashbacks. Hell yeah.)
Jeff Krulik: Hell yeah! Well, John and I met in 1985 and we immediately hit it off; we shared many of the same sensibilities and interests, and I was duly impressed that he had been a production assistant on John Waters' Polyester. So we started collaborating and hanging out at the public access community tv studio I was running at age 24 (Metrovision in Southern Prince George's County--that's another story).
John came up with the idea to use my professional TV equipment to tape heavy metal fans at the nearby Capital Centre before a concert; it seemed like a no-brainer since that scene was mighty colorful, and even though we weren't metal fans we knew what was going on from our own concert going experiences.
We both love documentaries and weird American pop sub-culture, so it seemed like a great idea and easy enough to just show up in the parking lot before an upcoming concert, pay admission, wander around and see what we come up with. It could have been any heavy metal juggernaut band rolling through town, but we were very fortunate that we picked a bright Spring Saturday with Judas Priest--their music still holds up 22 years later!
Anyway, we spent two hours in the parking lot, and then went back to my studio to screen the tapes and I immediately came up with the title Heavy Metal Parking Lot. We had a few local DC area screenings, then shelved it in 1990, but tape trading and word of mouth has helped turn it into some sort of cultural touchstone. And we're very grateful.
I love the quirkiness of the stories on your YouTube channel, Jeff, from "The Legend of Merv Conn" (The King of the Strolling Accordionists) to "The King of Porn" - Ralph Whittington- a retired Library of Congress curator who amassed a monumental porn collection in the home he shared with his mother outside of DC. (Ralph's 4-inch high heel pump telephone was a nice touch.) Where do you find your stories?
Jeff Krulik: I've always been a big fan of weird stuff, ever since I was little. I have no idea how it started, but as a young adult my friends started to refer to me as a Nut Magnet. I always liked that title, and wear it as a badge of honor. I used to love hanging out at magazine stands, and the library periodical room, poring over the oddball selections and being particularly riveted by the classified ads in the back of Field and Stream, Popular Science, wrestling magazines and comic books. I once announced to my parents that I was going to correspond with prisoners who advertised. They flipped out, and needless to say, I didn't. But I was just always a curious kid, and when I got a camera and could start documenting what inspired me I didn't miss a beat. And I haven't stopped.
The Theater Dark short is beautiful and a bit sad (and I happen to work in the now restored Tivoli Theater). It seems that you both have an interest in local culture, and capturing unique personalities and periods of time. I love it because you're telling stories that we don't really hear a lot of in DC. (Or at least I don't: It's easy to chalk the town up to its bureaucratic side.)
Jeff Krulik: I absolutely love what John did with this; and we immediately clicked over our interest in these fabulous buildings, most gone from DC, MD, VA and beyond. I also made a documentary in the mid80s called Twenty Five Cents Before Noon celebrating the same thing, but John really nailed it with just music, trailers and lovingly shot 16mm film.
What are you working on now?
Jeff Krulik: I always have tape in my camera and I'm rarin' to go; my shelves are sagging with upcoming projects including Heavy Metal Picnic (a nostalgic look back at Md partying), Billy Luck (a chronicle of local DC livewire Chris 'SkyPilot' Earnshaw), Maryland's Woodstock (charting the rise of concerts before corporations took over, focusing on the Laurel Pop Festival one month before Woodstock), and The Most Famous Stamp in the World (a tribute to my Dad, the stamp collecting of my youth, and the famous upside biplane stamp).
Plus, there's the never-ending video flotsam and jetsam that will wind its way on to my YouTube channel on an ongoing basis.
Jeff, you mentioned that you are updating your YouTube channel frequently. With more people consuming media online, have you had to change the way you work? Is it easier to reach your audience online? Or just different?
Jeff Krulik: YouTube is sooo easy to do, but it's incredibly hard to get traction and interest when the online universe seems to be flooded 24/7. The means to create online video is so accessible that anyone can do it. But the competition for eyeballs just keeps getting harder and harder.
I'm curious, how did the Ernest Borgnine road trip and documentary happen? The bus looks fortified - impressive!
Jeff Krulik: Working with Ernest Borgnine was one of the great experiences of my career; we completely hatched the idea in the years right before 'reality tv' became a 'reality!' Nobody knew what the hell I was talking about, when I pitched it to every network and suit I could. It was originally called ERNEST BORGNINE ON TOUR and we hoped to create a whole tv series. I actually had the Conan people ready to put Andy Richter on the bus, but that would have taken it away from me and our vision. But in hindsight, that might have been a better career move for co-producer Brendan Conway and myself. But you never know.
It started as a dare between Brendan and myself as we sat in our cubicles at Discovery Channel, but a year later we were in Milwaukee on the bus with Ernest Borgnine, driving across the Midwest. It was such a blast; he was in virtual retirement driving his enormous RV (a 40-foot bus he called The Sunbum) and we just tagged along asking him questions about his career and watching him mix it up with civilians. When the tv series idea failed, we at least had enough for an hour documentary called ERNEST BORGNINE ON THE BUS.
-------------------------------------- Jeff has been chronicling quirk in the DC area for years. You've probably already seen some of Jeff and John's work before (the parking lot sequels, Neil Diamond Parking Lot, Harry Potter Parking Lot), but if aren't familiar with their work as individuals or partners, best catch up and support your local filmmakers. If you can't get enough, like me, check out: The Official Site of Heavy Metal Parking Lot Krulik's YouTube Channel JeffKrulik.com
So what say you CreativeDC? Do you have a favorite moment from HMPL?
The heat must be getting to us all – wacky dreams, migraines, bug bites. It’s enough to make one want to go on vacation (thanks, Amanda). Anyway, after reading Kate’s dreams piece, I thought it only appropriate to continue the theme after checking out the new exhibit at the Hirshhorn, “The Cinema Effect: Realism” this past weekend.
For my first week in India last fall, I probably looked like a female version of the main character in Julian Rosefeldt’s ‘Lonely Planet’: backpack, sunglasses, looking perpetually out of sorts, sitar music making up the soundtrack in my head. But a few minutes into the film, I started recognizing the stereotypes that Rosefeldt is trying to portray: the overwhelmed tourist, the endless cubicles of call centers, the crowded streets and gats of Calcutta. And I got upset. I was no typical tourist! I met families, ate all kinds of food, saw small towns as well as big cities, and only once gave in to the lure of coffee at a western coffee shop in the land where tea created an empire. Who was this Rosefeldt to tell me I was a textbook blind follower of the Lonely Planet series?
That’s where the reality part sinks in. The film descends quickly, and you realize this character is not a backpacker at all, but a character in a Bollywood movie – playing the silly American tourist who sees only the stereotypes that Indian filmmakers think we see. It works on multiple levels.
The whole exhibit explores this concept and toys with our ideas of what is real, on film and in life. Plus, it’s air-conditioned.
I've been thinking lately about fishing for ideas in my dreams. I do a little bit of it now and again. I know what you might be thinking: who wants to hear about the dream someone else had the night before? I do. I love that my mind has conjured up images or plot lines running from the mundane (a summary of my day sifting past) to the crazy:
Charlton Heston is pushing me in a go-cart in a low-fi Ben Hur-like scene, except he was pushing me across a lush expansive lawn past a formal, curiously silent dinner party held beneath a large white tent. I recognized J.J. Abrams in the dinner crowd as Heston and I rushed past. His voice boomed. We were making a lot of noise. We sensed a victory, and I asked Heston to maneuver us by a discarded net that I saw on the lawn, calling out to him, “Let’s get the net, for the win!” We were whooping it up when I woke up laughing.
I’ve been reading a book on consciousness called The Head Trip, and ever since I started it, I’ve only had one good dream (referenced above). It’s like my mind has performance anxiety. The author, Jeff Warren, is a science reporter for the CBC. He intersperses his reporting on the subject with his personal experience undergoing tests at the Dream and Nightmare Laboratory at Montreal’s Sacré-Coeur Hospital.
One of my favorite stages of sleep that Warren describes is the hypnagogic. The hypnagogic is that first stage of sleep that we drift into, when our bodies jerk and we startle ourselves accidentally. (Have you ever sat up in bed, because you thought you heard a loud noise, or someone call your name, only to realize that you had imagined it?) This stage of sleep can last anywhere from 2-20 minutes, Warren explains, and it’s characterized by an almost hallucinatory feeling that produces vivid dreams, and associative thinking. Rational thinking takes a hiatus while we drift off in darkness and our brains light up.
Warren runs through a list of writers, artists, and inventors who have used this stage of sleep for inspiration. I was aware that Coleridge said that his Kubla Khan was inspired by a vivid, lurid dream that he rushed to copy when he awoke. (Although, I think the laudanum addiction had more to do with it, don’t you? ;) Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein was also inspired by a dream.
But I didn’t know, until I started reading The Head Trip, that people like Thomas Edison and Salvador Dali intentionally rigged systems to wake themselves after short naps so they could dredge their dreams for ideas. Edison would sit in a chair with a notebook and pen nearby, and hold ball bearings in either hand with tin plates beneath them. As soon as the balls fell from his limp hands and hit the tin plates, he awoke and would scribble down what he could remember.
Warren has a little system that he’s shared in his book for using the hypnagogic state for creative problem solving:
Set your alarm clock for 20 minutes.
Write about a problem you are having and think about it before you nap.
Make sure a pen and paper are handy.
Take a moment to clear your mind.
Jot down ideas or associations if you have them as you begin to fall asleep.
When the alarm goes off, immediately record your thoughts.
Look for clues, metaphors, etc.
So, what about you – do you get some of your best ideas from dreams? Want to share a crazy one? I love hearing them. Here's to a night of crazy, creative dreaming -
I am fortunate enough to be heading out for my second vacation this summer, this time at the Outer Banks. I plan to read, write, eat, drink, nap and swim -- yep, that's about it. I am once again taking a "tech holiday," but this time, I've lined up some fabulous local writers to guest blog while I'm away.
Without further ado, allow me to introduce Kate Barrett and Laura Hertzfeld (neither has a blog - egads! - so I shall link to their Flickr accounts):
Kate and I used to work together at PBS, and now she's one of my closest friends. She has a wicked sense of humor, a knack for unearthing quirky treasures, and can regale you for hours with stories about her hometown of Scranton, PA. In addition to writing, Kate enjoys knitting, photography, and this artist.
Laura and I met more recently, also through PBS (PBS, the great friendifier). She is a self-described "news junkie and vagabond" who loves to go on solo sojourns around the globe, and is reputed to be a wicked chef (when she and kthread get together, eaters in the area quiver with anticipation).
I've given them free reign to share their ideas about "creative DC," and I can't wait to see what they come up with. Be good to them, dear readers :) - and I'll see you in a week...
Kudos to two fellow performers from Washington Improv Theater, Karen Lange and Stuart Scotten, for the rockin' review of their show, and their performances specifically, in the City Paper's "Fringe and Purge" blog (all about the Capital Fringe Fest - get it?!):
...(the play) hits you like a revelation, for two reasons: Karen Lange, as a hopeful Arts Administrator, and Washington Improv Theater regular Stuart Scotten, as a hesitant meeting attendee. These two performers concentrate on creating characters — rounded, funny, utterly believable characters — and allow themselves to findthe script’s jokes, instead of lunging at them. Scotten in particular offers a master class in what offhand, unforced comic timing can do for a production; as a result, precisely 33.3% of Unintended Consequences is easily the best thing in Fringe I’ve seen so far.
Check out their one-act, part of a triplet of one-acts called "Unintended Consequences" playing at Warehouse Next Door - showtimes and tickets here.
I've been reflecting this week on what it is that moves us to finally take risks in life. I'm talking about meaningful risks - not "driving without my seat belt on," but "pursuing my dream of writing a book," for example, or getting married, or getting divorced, or whatever it is that feels impossible, but you know, deep down, is what you need if you are going to exist as your true self in this world.
At its essence, taking a meaningful risk means getting past the negative voice inside that simpers, "who are you kidding - you could never write a book. You're too old/young/ordinary/[insert adjective of choice here]." Or, "stop feeling sorry for yourself, a lot of people are unhappy. Why should you be any different?" Be on the alert for this voice, because it's often trying to talk you out of the thing you need most. And remember - that voice? It's you. Ask yourself, "Why am I trying to keep myself from doing this?" I read somewhere once that the thing we're most afraid of is our own power.
That first leap of faith is so terrifying, so we cover ourselves in band-aids - a night on the town, a vacation, a love affair. But inside, deep down, if we are honest with ourselves, we know that something just isn't right.
"...And the day came when the risk to remain tight in a bud was more painful than the risk it took to blossom." -Anais Nin
In my case, I knew I was miserable at my job, and felt this consistent yearning for something more. But I had no clear picture of what that "more" was, and no faith that life could provide it, whatever it was. Still, I couldn't shake it. After a rejuvenating trip to Costa Rica, I saw an ad for a yoga studio called Tranquil Space; the name promised something I craved - tranquility - and something about the trip made me open to trying it.
But after one class, I backed off - in retrospect, I was probably afraid. It was another year before I went back, and enrolled in a series of classes for "newbies" like me. Taking the time to really learn about yoga deepened my connection to it, and I was hooked. Then, one day, I saw a flyer in the studio's dressing room for a "creativity circle" - I was drawn to it, as I had been to the Tranquil Space flyer a year before, and signed up. It was this circle, or class, that introduced me to The Artist's Way, which blasted open the doors to the creatively fulfilling life I live today.
It would still be another two years before I mustered the courage to leave my job, but my life changed color in those intervening years, and with every step I took -- signing up for improv classes, beginning to perform, writing regularly in my journal, going solo on a yoga retreat -- I felt more powerful, and more free. Finally, I was ready to take The Big Risk, and leave my job -- without another one lined up. This isn't something I recommend, per se, but in my case, my boss gave notice, and something inside me just said, "this is it." I couldn't stomach another reorg, and I just knew that I'd be ok freelancing for a while. Most people I know who've made a similar move spent a period of time moonlighting at their new gig before leaving the old one, and I think this is the path I'd recommend, but in my case, I had a strong enough network that I was able to quickly line up a few projects. And a funny thing happened -- leaving unleashed this flood of absolute joy inside me. I was giddy with anticipation, and freedom. I could do anything.
And I think this is how it works, this business of risk-taking: you strengthen that muscle - your courage, your faith - with every risk you take, no matter how big or small, so that the next time you hear that voice inside, urging you forward, you're a little bit stronger, and acting is a little less terrifying. And the more you practice, the more natural it becomes - like climbing the stairs after months of exercise and realizing that you no longer get winded.
I thought freelancing was a way of biding my time -- getting the distance and perspective I needed to figure out what I really wanted to do next. But I ended up loving it -- loving the flexibility it allows me, to structure my days creatively, carving out time not just for work but also play, and art, and service. In retrospect I see that more than anything, what made me miserable at my job was feeling trapped in the routine; that's anathema, it turns out, to my nature. I didn't know that at the outset, but I knew I was drawn to things - yoga, travel, improv - that let me escape routine, including the routine of my brain and its churning over and over the events of the day.
Anais Nin is right. The day comes when holding back hurts more than taking action. The more you can prime yourself for that day, by reflecting on what you really want, and taking steps towards it - the richer it will be.
Ok, so there will be other comedians there, too, but the one I care most about is Aparna Nancherla, a rising comedy star who happens to be biding her time in my improv troupe. She also performs stand-up (locally and around the country), and writes a blog, and is the first person I've known who is definitely going to be famous some day. For reals.
See Aparna's very esoteric, smart brand of humor on display TONIGHT at the Uptown Tavern (near, you guessed it, the Uptown movie theater) - no cover charge:
Other upcoming comedy shows, right here in DC:
Saturday 7.12 Summer Brew Washington Improv Theater Shows at 8pm and 9:30pm (9:30 show features yours truly) More info and tix here
Tuesday 7.15 Top Shelf at Solly's (first Tuesday of every month) Hosted by Nick Turner 9pm, Free Featuring: Erin Jackson, Jon Mumma, Jay Hastings, Adrian Rodney and more
For more comedy events, check out DC Comedy 4 Now. And, mark your calendars - the DC Comedy Fest is coming soon! (August 7-9)
(--Though I have to say, emphasizing that the fest is "unjuried" as part of the fest's tag line -- "Unjuried, risk-taking, independent performing arts" -- seems strange to me; is "unjuried" something the general populace really cares about? I keep misreading it as "uninjured." But I digress...)
As the DC Theatre Scene site notes, in addition to the Fringe, the Source Festival is still happening (through July 13), as is the Hip-Hop Theater Festival -- which, I report with great admiration, apparently sold out before opening night (!). And if you've got wanderlust, there's also the Contemporary American Theater Festival (July 9-August 3) in Shepherdstown, WV -- my in-laws, avid theater fans who are way hipper than I am, will be there.
On top of that, Theatre Scene reports 13 additional shows are opening in DC this month alone.
Huzzah!
So...
What have you seen that you loved, or hated? What are you planning to see?* Boxers or briefs?
*My plans so far include "How I Got Rich in a Year, Using that Secret: A Play for Believers, Skeptics and Slobs," a one-woman show by Laura Zam, my wonderful former teacher, and "I Like Nuts! (The Musical)," by Chris Davenport, who went to college with Jordan (watch a preview of I Like Nuts!)
It's been a long time since I read Utne Reader - I used to subscribe, but got to the point where I found it gratingly earnest. But when I saw this month's issue (in the check-out line at Whole Foods - such a cliche!), I couldn't resist. It's an examination of The Future of Creativity, from a range of angles.
In light of the recent discussion on this blog re: what "creativity" really means, I found it interesting that this package of stories interprets creativity as parts imagination, risk-taking, inventiveness, and active engagement with the world around you.
Here's a rundown of the stories:
"The Future of Creativity" The importance of unstructured play for building kids' imaginative capacity
"Strathmore invites residents of Maryland, Washington, D.C., Virginia, West Virginia and Pennsylvania to apply to win the use of Strathmore for one day for an artistic presentation.
The winner of this competition will get the use of any Strathmore facility (Mansion, Music Center or outdoor grounds) for a day, and their exhibition/performance/festival/event presented by Strathmore during the 2009–2010 Season."
Kim O'Donnel over at A Mighty Appetite just announced the blog's first-ever "Eat Local Challenge." Say what? Here's how it works: participants agree to infuse their diets with at least 10 food items grown or raised within a 100-mile radius of their hometown, for a period of at least one week, beginning July 19. You can sign up by emailing Kim; the deadline (for being recognized as an official participant, at least) is July 14.
Food and creativity are endlessly intertwined for me - food as inspiration, cooking and baking as art. To me, paying attention to the source of your food isn't just about politics, or ethics - it's about remembering food comes from the earth, or from animals, not from "the store"; it's about remembering the biology behind eating...the "creation" of food.
Kim and a few others will be blogging about the experience - I'll be sure to post some links.
More on food from Creative DC:
Foraging - farmers markets and creative inspiration, from last week
...like cake decorating, but with less icing. (Update: I realized after I published this that the contest is really about bike rack design, not decorating. Not quite sure how I made that mistake. But hey, my mistake yielded a happy picture of cake for you to look at, so...look! cake!)
Here's the announcement from the DC Commission on the Arts and Humanities:
Artistic Bike Racks Artist Honorarium: $1,500 Deadline:This Friday, July 11, at 5:30 pm
"The DC Commission on the Arts and Humanities (DCCAH), in collaboration with District Department of Transportation (DDOT) and Council member Tommy Wells' Office, is seeking artists to create artistic designs to enhance the standard bike racks and create designs for unique bike racks that will be placed in various locations citywide. Artists are encouraged to incorporate their interpretations of the "DC experience" into their artwork. Artists may also wish to consider particular locations for placement of their work and create designs specifically suited for each location.
For more information or to request an application in HTML format, email Deirdre Ehlen or call (202) 724-5613."
I read about this opportunity on the Express site, where it was covered in conjunction with an update on the city's public bike-sharing program - read the update. (By the way, is the odd contraption on Mass Ave. just west of Dupont Circle, with the holes in it numbered 1-15, part of the bike-sharing set-up?)
"Don't ask yourself what the world needs. Ask what makes you come alive - and then go do that. Because what the world needs is people who have come alive." -Howard Thurman
This is one of my favorite quotes. Check out this gorgeous photo that uses the first line as its title (sadly, its copyright doesn't allow me to post it here)...
My yoga teacher read this poem to us at the end of class yesterday, and I loved it so much, I wanted to share it here. To me, it's a celebration of life - we all have our burdens, but let's celebrate the beauty, and find beauty in daily existence.
I Want Both of Us By Hafiz
I want both of us To start talking about this great love - As if you, I, and the Sun were all married And living in a tiny room, Helping each other to cook, Do the wash, Weave and sew, Care for our beautiful Animals.
We all leave each morning To labor on the earth's field. No one does not lift a great pack.
I want both of us to start singing like two Traveling minstrels About this extraordinary existence We share, As if You, I, and God were all married And living in A tiny Room.
+++
According to Booklist, Hafiz is "less well known in the U.S. than his Sufi predecessor, Rumi," but "is so beloved in Iran that he outsells the Koran." Ralph Waldo Emerson apparently called him "a poet's poet," which to me is insulting - it implies his work isn't accessible to regular old human beings.
I wasn't able to find a good English-language website or book about Hafiz's life and work, but there are three well-regarded English translations of his poetry: The Gift, The Subject Tonight is Love, and I Heard God Laughing.
Here's a great image I found on Flickr of a mural in Minneapolis (courtesy of BJHokansen):
I went to see a showcase of so-called "interdisciplinary projects" as part of the Source Festival tonight. "Interdisciplinary project," in this context, means, artists from two separate disciplines get together and create a performance that blends the two forms; in the case of tonight's showcase, that meant spoken word + dance, improv + dance, and film + dance (dance-ity dance dance).
$15, three shows, only one of which I actually enjoyed (that would be the one involving improv - big shocker, I know) -- and yet, I was glad to see all three, because each had a quality that is so very difficult to find: each was distinctive.
Not to make this Semantics Month here on Creative DC (see also: Deep Thoughts on a Sunday Night), but "distinctive" is a doozy. I know what I mean by it, in my gut, but my brain has a harder time translating. Here's my best attempt: "Distinctive" is when I sense a sincere purpose behind a work of art, and it has an aesthetic that grips me for being new and fresh. So much of what I see looks so much like other things I've seen - when something breaks through that, I pay attention.
So if you're looking for some creative fodder, check out tomorrow night's show - and let me know what you think. And kudos to the Source for providing the space for this kind of experimentation.
UPDATE 7.4.08:As Letty mentioned in the comment she posted, the improv/dance show ("Going Against the Flow - Improvised Lives") is coming to the 9:30 Club later this month - July 26, 8:30 pm. The performance is part of the Capital Fringe Fest.
UPDATE 7.11.08: Here's the Washington Post review of the 7.1 performance of these inter-disciplinary shows. The critic, Celia Wren, loved the film - " stirring and poignantly open-ended." Huh? To me, it completely lacked subtlety. Oh well. She also didn't care for the improv/dance combo, but then, she told someone at WIT (before reviewing one of our winter shows) that she doesn't like improv. So there's that.
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