Golden Bunnies and Leaping Dolphins
I just finished year 1 of a 2 year MFA program that has ultimately been responsible for the blog, which I’ve dropped the ball on over the last 2 weeks. I dropped the yoga ball, as well as a couple of others during the semester so I’ve been trying to recover my yoga practice as well as spend some time with my boyfriend, animals and friends. Thursday night we actually enjoyed our amazing rooftop by eating dinner with the couple from Argentina that are subletting our second bedroom for the month. I plan to have some other friends over to eat soon too. A writing practice is something I want to continue to develop, while also organizing my life, practicing yoga and taking some time to rest. I had prepared an even more ambitious trajectory for my summer agenda, that lasted a total of 0 days after the end of the semester. As school events kept trickling through the initial weeks after school ended, I found often myself staring blankly into space, while sitting on the couch; a familiar and unplanned strategy for dealing with various types of stress. Honestly, I’m just processing a lot of information, I think. I’m pretty sure I’m processing information…and it’s making me very tired. The largest culprit responsible for my diminished energy is a thief called anxiety that breaks into the interior of my consciousness and trashes through my hopes for productivity with the connections and ideas living happily in my head. It then tosses them crumpled into a giant heap on the living room floor. I doubt it’ll ever find what it’s looking for either, so I suppose it’s time to find a better type of lock. Which brings me back to things like practicing yoga and writing.
So many things are circling in my head to write about…things like conflict over personal space on the subway, the confusing perspective I have towards the performative, quasi – hipster yoga teacher who has clearly missed her calling as a stripper, and how I love hookers even more than I did before after reading Virginie Despentes “The King Kong Theory.” These varied themes will kind of run through my head while I’m walking Nova or tending to her recent eye infection, while on the train going some place I’m not sure I want to be going, at home making Kambucha, trying to sort through all my clutter, or putting together the bookcase my friend Angie gave me a month ago. And ideas for pictures too…they also come…just yesterday I finally loaded a bunch of 4×5 holders with film, as one of my self-assignments is to take a serious picture everyday. Then I think about “non-serious” pictures and wonder what the fuck a “serious” picture means to me anyways. Many of my favorite pictures have been taken while not being serious. I’m a serious photographer, but I’m there is an aspect to my photographer psyche that isn’t that serious, if that makes any sense.
Over spring break this past April I was in San Diego with my boyfriend André, visiting my friends and family there. I took a lot of photographs, which are of course still imbued with current concerns and information I’m currently processing. However, I really was just taking pictures of the things that I did and the places I spent my time and it was like magic. I guess that’s what I do at home, but when I go somewhere else the result is more narrative and more marvelous in a way. These are a series of pictures I took on a sunset trip through a field of native brush and foliage that was lush in the wake of the rare and meager San Diego rain storm. My dear friend Gloom, whom I rarely see now that I live in New York, took André and me to a favorite spot of his above Black’s Beach, near the Salk Institute. Gloom (otherwise know as Richard or RK ) is a real wizard. He’s not about to project a false sense of positivity on the world nor pretend that things are okay. But, he’s remarkably in touch with his psychic side, which generally he has found somewhat useless beyond making life more magical, until the recently remarkable role it’s played while working on his film and life’s project, “Hydrodynamica.”
While we were walking through the green plants, Richard did his usual naming of the types of plants. Although, surprisingly, there were a couple he didn’t know. He told us this great story about an experience he had on that same cliff when he was 15. It was about the same time of year I think, or it had just rained so everything was green and middle-earth like. The spot is usually brown and dusty as San Diego is a desert and usually doesn’t experience enough rainfall to naturally sustain beauty of the green variety. (The notion that San Diego is beautiful in that way, is an illusion and myth, in that the place is fabricated and constructed to be a tropical type paradise). He was beginning his walk towards the edge of the cliff to look at the surf, and thinking about how, because it was so green, it looked like Ireland or Scotland. Just then a man dressed in a kilt walked over the horizon, and he was playing a set of bag pipes. Things like this only seemed to happen to me once I started taking acid, or at least that’s when I started noticing them. I think for Richard, it’s always been that way and certainly the frequency by which I’ve heard his accounts indicate these events to be a prolific part of Richard’s experience.
The session was perfect. Little brown bunnies jumped around everywhere and Richard called them golden. He said it’s the “…place of golden bunnies and leaping dolphins.” Shortly after he said that, as we were looking at the sun setting over the ocean, a dolphin leaped perfectly out of the back of a wave and arched gracefully back into the water. Richard said, “See, I told you. That was a perfect leap too.” For me it was a perfect hour, one where I felt glad to be alive. When I got the pictures back I could feel that even more. It’s taken me several weeks to scan them and organize, but alas, here they are.