“If you can't explain it to a six year old, you don't understand it yourself.”― Albert Einstein
"I get a little strength out to you or is it meekness?" –Steven John Kilbey, Paradox
The question I'm asking myself the most these days is "How much 'realness' or even 'potential realness' is there really to go around? How real is this? How real am I?
In the reality we inhabit and there are many realities, and possibilities of realities, I think that the greatest degree of freedom one posses to pass between these many people, places and perspectives remains forever balanced by Newton's 3rd Law of Motion (well, at least on this terrestrial sphere). Therefore Freedom we employ is proportional to that movement (the 'passing through' of perspectives) and this movement is essential is Newton's 2nd Law, meaning it is equal to the sum total of each degree of movement we find ourselves willing and able to commit to. Other words, it is equal to our own innate capacity to do so, and any six year old can Understand that, don't you think?
Over the past several years, what I've most contemplated is the win-win scenario and how best to best engage, present, enhance this outcome. I was first introduced to the meta-dialog of this particular 'win-win' branding of competition by the reality tv series Project Runway–though I would hardly know it at the time. And then how could I?
There's a lot I can say (as the well as the people around me who know me best) about my relationship to this reality television program. After the last round of applying to the show in 2013 (mind you this was a program I once vowed you'd have to tie me to a chair Clockwork Orange style before I would ever watch such vile parades of ego's pomp n circumstance)––it was obvious I needed an intervention of some sort, because i had risked everything––and not to fulfill some fleshy fantasy of mine about spotlights and cheering of how wonderful the thrill of victory would be––but actually, just to make it to the next round––and there was good reason to believe I would.
On September 24th (my sisters birthday) I went to NYC via Amtrack and stood in line and waited in like to apply the next morning (Dff's Birthday) for the Season 13 (Redux)––after it's my number––again! And I strongly suggest anyone who shares my obsession even if your not really sure or confident about your chances that you do this at least once!
A word of advice though to you seriously considering taking on this noble journey (and especially if that time you stood in line-all night for Bon Jovi tickets was the best night of your life) let me burst that bubble of you now, because if you don't walk away from that experience wishing you could find the Red-Cross tents outside prepared for the emergence psychoanalytical counseling you desperately now need, you certainly are more worthy than I. But, if you decide to take that risk, you'll meet people coming from every corner of the globe––with so much passion and so much talent with so many stories of what it took for them to be where they are now... I guarantee you this if you bring with you every ounce of passion you have, and you are willing to engage with those around you, that night itself will be far more rewarding than the fact that you didn't get cast––but what are the odds of that?
I first applied for PR in 2010 and got a call back ("Hello, this is Amanda from Project Runway") First time, did I lose my shit or what?
That conversation, while not verbatim, went something like this:
Me: As timid and curious as a church mouse"H-h-hello....."
Amanda, "Hi––thank you so much for applying we just got your application and everything looks good but, everything here your application, your video and yes, your portfolio, but it seems you must have forgotten to include the other photographs of work samples, because there's I only see one....
Me: "Well, (nervous laugh) that's because there's just that one... right now... I just finished it yesterday and the Revolution Runway show was last night and the last day for applications was today... and I didn't have time to make another, I guess but, I've already got an for the next one, and I'm like starting that as soon as I get home from work, and I really, really think that even though I have no experience, I mean I just sat down at a sewing machine for the first time three weeks ago, but I've been designing every night in my head and i did all these sketches and I really think that this is going to work in my favor, serious, because I don't know... (slowing down a bit to annunciate my words) you know what I mean...?
Amanda: "Ok, wow, well, yes, of course, I mean..... so you you're saying you just have that one dress and nothing else and you just started sewing three weeks ago... that's what your tell me, I just want to make sure...."
Me: "Yhea, but you see, I think, that's really going to work for me, you see, because, I'm not going to think like everybody else, and I mean––really what's at the core of fashion? When you pull every thing away.... It's the "Thought" (emphasized)... so that puts us on an equal playing field––and that means I'll be solely relying on the creativity of that moment, right then and their an not my pre-conceptions–– that means I won't have any hang-ups... OMFG this would be the best thing in the world... can you imagine... just solely relying on my creativity only to problem solve each challenge, I'm that would be my angle––to have use my creativity alone with no experience, WOW, I mean it's not just an angle, because that's what I would have to do, but WOW could you imagine––this would be my once in a lifetime opportunity to rise above everything everyone knows about fashion, to make fashion from ideas that I don't even have, that's fucking innovation. I'm telling you, and I am so ready to bring it... this is the challenge of my life I've been waiting for...
Amanda: Oh, Mark, Wow, well listen, I'm going to tell our Producers what you said, and show them what you made and someone get right back to you, Ok?"
Me: COOL! Wow, OMG, YES I mean I can really DO THIS, YES! Thank you... (welling up with tears)
Amanda, "Ok, Now I'm going to show this to the producers, but thy are really really busy, so if you don't hear back I'm going to give you my e-mail, Ok?
Me: Ok, YES! Of COURSE (Trying to conceal the fact that I'm weeping tears of joy and wonderment) WOW OMG THANK YOU SO MUCH, AMANDA, I MEAN WOW..."
Amanda, "Ok, here's my e-mail do you have a pen?
Me: (sniffles) "Uhuh.."
Amanda: Ok, Good, it's A. M. A....."
Fade to Wide and...
TO BE CONTINUED
I MEAN, WOW I CAN"T BELEIVE IT< THANK YOU SO MUCH...
COOL! Wow, OMG, YES I mean I can really DO THIS, YES! Thank you... (welling up with tears)
Well I see then, that's interesting Huh, well let me see... I guess
really... no others? Just that one dress is all you have?
you mean you don't have other really... no others? Just that one dress is all you have?
it's the first thing I've ever made and I just premiered it last night and don't have another one to show you... (overnighted it deadline was that day)"
Me: Yup. First time I ever sat down at a sewing Machine actually)
Amanda, "Ok, Well I see then, that's interesting Huh, well let me see... I guess
and if you're open to itand hear their stories, as I did––that is ––because through out you'll hear the most amazing and heart breaking stories there are of how you all came to be where you are now.
and why they came to stand on that side-walk with you.
here on that sidewalk toostories, an
for my that experience was every bit as rich and life affirming )firming
the evening for me when I look back was every bit as exciting and glamorous and wrot with tension as I imagine being on
everyone does it at least once who's seriously interested, and not just interested, but who really, really wants to strut there stuff on Lifetime TV
to make me watch)
ala C
ming.
and live by the example of this.
through exampleconnected to
by means live solely by What I've been think
, that is the
And to this conclusion, a poetic metaphor from the winds which blow within this four dimensional space we occupy, the reed which bends perfectly demonstrates this axiom.
What Do You Value?
I so greatly looked forward to finally knowing what the aroma of the Pacific Ocean was actually going to smell like. I paused and exhaled deeply. Holding my breath I exited the cab and closed the door behind me. And then it was there, across from The Gap on Columbus and Chestnut I inhaled deeply my first breath of Pacific California West Coast Sunshine Air––and I couldn't be more perplex.
I flashback suddenly experiencing every and all at once our yearly 'happy trips' to the coast of Maine– it's the freakin vacation state after all–and we're all loading up into mom's tiny white 2 door Pinto hatchback w that fuking nasty navy blue vinyl interior––my sister and her best friend gloating because they get the front seat-for some completely bull shit-reason while me and my little brother my best friend are surrounded in a lava flow of games, groceries, pillows, sleeping bags, bikes, beach chairs and we're now luring one very reluctant worried looking looking German Shepherd into the back with us...
By the next exhale everything went all Keriok (and I'm a Burroughs man through and through) and I'm enveloped by this thick perpetually fresh aroma of the richest dark brew coffee bean––who new the Pacific had no oder? That messed with my head, royally. But I continued to live in San Francisco from September 1988 until June 6, 1995 (apparently if you do the math as i did on that long bus ride back homeward, and if you exclude my time spent in Victoria, Seattle and Arizona I was leaving SF exactly Six years, Six months, and Six days after I arrived––I don't know but it all seemed about right). But this was just the first of many revelations.
This year our 'happy trip' is to Wells Beach, Maine––and this time I know something no on else does about this demarcation point, abd this is the momnet I know I'm no langer a child. I'm no longer a child. But even for a ten year old a 2.5 hr car ride seemed all of eternity. And it was always the same story just 3/4 of the way in either our infighting caused the hammer to crack down on us and we'd ride the rest of the way in icy silence or we'd have fallen asleep or just about thought you could no longer take it and die right there on the spot, but after the dearcation point all would be forgiven. because last year when dad was with us I marked the spot visually on the way in and then on the home home got the millage from dad, and I now knew how far it was in in both directions and I was gonna impress in a big, big because I was in love with my best freind in a big big way even though we we'rnt sharing the front seat together...
It was about three weeks after my life in North Beach that I witnessed the first expnsion of my conscounsees as it related to social naritive and public discouse of public/street/and graffitti Art. As I had noticed one particular small sized stencle usually in white or white and red EVERYWHERE. I'd turn a corn boom there it was... glance down at the pavenent before crossing the street boom.. there it was... out side the grocery story boom, telephone pole boom. bust shelter. News rack. Mail box. And after seeing that same stencil, I became that 1ooth monkies because I stopped in my tracks and thought to myself, "Ya... What is it?"What is it that I value?" And yea.... what is it all you muthr fuckrs vallue." I was now a street artist, but didn't know it then either.
way...
were going to die of boredom um ternity
ike clockwork
Apparently the Pacific Ocean has no smell, because that first sense was all Keriok perpetually fresh rich brewed coffee bean
ly after that first inhale was the rich aroma perpetually freshly brewed coffee bean
it's he knew better than all of us) ....
and slam the door shut.
is in with all squeezed into the back
Each summer a tiny two door Pinto would
As a family each summer
we'd take our
Mom'd load up her tiny two door white w/ blue vynil interior three kids, beach chairs, tent, ploes, and two kinds in the front
more like forever––and to boot Mom drove a Pinto––two door.
and not the station wagon either.
the load of
we later determined it was at the 7 mile mark out you could catch the sent of that mighty saltin sea.
first get the smell it. It was a moment that changed everything, awakening the sleepy travelers the car would
––that being the Mighty Satlen Sea, The Atlantic Ocean.
That even indubitably the frist what my prepubescent self understood as orgasm
self
likely resemled was the closest my prepubest self would recognize thing to an orgasm in my prepubesent self I would
I so greatly looked forward to finally knowing what the aroma of the Pacific Ocean was actually going to smell like. I paused and exhaled deeply. Holding my breath I exited the cab and closed the door behind me. And then it was there, across from The Gap on Columbus and Chestnut I inhaled deeply my first breath of Pacific California West Coast Sunshine Air––and I couldn't be more perplex.
I flashback suddenly experiencing every and all at once our yearly 'happy trips' to the coast of Maine– it's the freakin vacation state after all–and we're all loading up into mom's tiny white 2 door Pinto hatchback w that fuking nasty navy blue vinyl interior––my sister and her best friend gloating because they get the front seat-for some completely bull shit-reason while me and my little brother my best friend are surrounded in a lava flow of games, groceries, pillows, sleeping bags, bikes, beach chairs and we're now luring one very reluctant worried looking looking German Shepherd into the back with us...
By the next exhale everything went all Keriok (and I'm a Burroughs man through and through) and I'm enveloped by this thick perpetually fresh aroma of the richest dark brew coffee bean––who new the Pacific had no oder? That messed with my head, royally. But I continued to live in San Francisco from September 1988 until June 6, 1995 (apparently if you do the math as i did on that long bus ride back homeward, and if you exclude my time spent in Victoria, Seattle and Arizona I was leaving SF exactly Six years, Six months, and Six days after I arrived––I don't know but it all seemed about right). But this was just the first of many revelations.
This year our 'happy trip' is to Wells Beach, Maine––and this time I know something no on else does about this demarcation point, abd this is the momnet I know I'm no langer a child. I'm no longer a child. But even for a ten year old a 2.5 hr car ride seemed all of eternity. And it was always the same story just 3/4 of the way in either our infighting caused the hammer to crack down on us and we'd ride the rest of the way in icy silence or we'd have fallen asleep or just about thought you could no longer take it and die right there on the spot, but after the dearcation point all would be forgiven. because last year when dad was with us I marked the spot visually on the way in and then on the home home got the millage from dad, and I now knew how far it was in in both directions and I was gonna impress in a big, big because I was in love with my best freind in a big big way even though we we'rnt sharing the front seat together...
It was about three weeks after my life in North Beach that I witnessed the first expnsion of my conscounsees as it related to social naritive and public discouse of public/street/and graffitti Art. As I had noticed one particular small sized stencle usually in white or white and red EVERYWHERE. I'd turn a corn boom there it was... glance down at the pavenent before crossing the street boom.. there it was... out side the grocery story boom, telephone pole boom. bust shelter. News rack. Mail box. And after seeing that same stencil, I became that 1ooth monkies because I stopped in my tracks and thought to myself, "Ya... What is it?"What is it that I value?" And yea.... what is it all you muthr fuckrs vallue." I was now a street artist, but didn't know it then either.
way...
were going to die of boredom um ternity
ike clockwork
Apparently the Pacific Ocean has no smell, because that first sense was all Keriok perpetually fresh rich brewed coffee bean
ly after that first inhale was the rich aroma perpetually freshly brewed coffee bean
it's he knew better than all of us) ....
and slam the door shut.
is in with all squeezed into the back
Each summer a tiny two door Pinto would
As a family each summer
we'd take our
Mom'd load up her tiny two door white w/ blue vynil interior three kids, beach chairs, tent, ploes, and two kinds in the front
more like forever––and to boot Mom drove a Pinto––two door.
and not the station wagon either.
the load of
we later determined it was at the 7 mile mark out you could catch the sent of that mighty saltin sea.
first get the smell it. It was a moment that changed everything, awakening the sleepy travelers the car would
––that being the Mighty Satlen Sea, The Atlantic Ocean.
That even indubitably the frist what my prepubescent self understood as orgasm
self
likely resemled was the closest my prepubest self would recognize thing to an orgasm in my prepubesent self I would
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