Godliness in the Ghetto (or AZ vs. OH)
The greatest healing, soul-search eneabling aspects of Arizona were the many moments when natural beauty induced tears:
Rounding the side of a mountain and grasping a large rock outcrop for support as I gawked over the endless miles of rough desert terrain sprawled before me;
Stepping out of my car in the middle of nowhere and falling to my knees and praising Allah or Jaheed or God or whoever for the infinite number of stars visible;
The amazing heights to which my body and soul were able to soar by climbing to the tip top of a towering red rock spire.
Right. Eventually, such inundation of beauty stopped causing me to cry for joy (though I always got a little perklepmt!)
In recent months, it's the art in Cincinnati that's produced such rivers of tears.
Shocking, but true.
Who woulda thunk it?
I believe it began with the grandeur of the Cincinnati Entertainment Awards on my thrid day in town, followed weeks later by the largest party I've been to outside of NY raves - an art opening across the street from my new home at the awe inspiring Mockbee, came thundering through my bones with the expansive thrill of Beautiful Losers in March, and crested to a paralizing pompodium of pleasure with the creation of and apparent success of the first ever Cincy Fringe Festival.
Though my full enjoyment of said Fringe was thwarted by the last minute jaunt of some potentially amazing opportunity tearing me away from current beautiful affairs.
When Beautiful Losers came to a close, I recall the void felt, and was so relieved that my Kaldi's co-worker and good friend, Andrew, completely empathasized and had experienced that same level of beauty. And Hell, it all felt kinda silly; we weren't even really involved. I mean, I helped with an installation or two, worked The Mockbee and went to a meeting or three, befriended many of the artists and curators and took home my second favorite visual artist on the planet - but it's not like I created it. You woulda thought so by my love for it's purpose.
You can essentially repeat that statement in its entirety about Fringe. Except I was more involved in that venture, and was impacted far more deeply by its artistic offerings and its potential to sustain itself and provide impetus for a much needed shift in the stagnate pop-performance world.
And to hear so many out of town artists, involved in each of those moving festivals, speak about how Cincy offered cool opportunities and venues that you'd be hard pressed to find anywhere else....
The 'Natti has so many amazing aspects I'd love to expand on, but once again the road is calling and lures me away.
Pull gently; I'm torn.
Rounding the side of a mountain and grasping a large rock outcrop for support as I gawked over the endless miles of rough desert terrain sprawled before me;
Stepping out of my car in the middle of nowhere and falling to my knees and praising Allah or Jaheed or God or whoever for the infinite number of stars visible;
The amazing heights to which my body and soul were able to soar by climbing to the tip top of a towering red rock spire.
Right. Eventually, such inundation of beauty stopped causing me to cry for joy (though I always got a little perklepmt!)
In recent months, it's the art in Cincinnati that's produced such rivers of tears.
Shocking, but true.
Who woulda thunk it?
I believe it began with the grandeur of the Cincinnati Entertainment Awards on my thrid day in town, followed weeks later by the largest party I've been to outside of NY raves - an art opening across the street from my new home at the awe inspiring Mockbee, came thundering through my bones with the expansive thrill of Beautiful Losers in March, and crested to a paralizing pompodium of pleasure with the creation of and apparent success of the first ever Cincy Fringe Festival.
Though my full enjoyment of said Fringe was thwarted by the last minute jaunt of some potentially amazing opportunity tearing me away from current beautiful affairs.
When Beautiful Losers came to a close, I recall the void felt, and was so relieved that my Kaldi's co-worker and good friend, Andrew, completely empathasized and had experienced that same level of beauty. And Hell, it all felt kinda silly; we weren't even really involved. I mean, I helped with an installation or two, worked The Mockbee and went to a meeting or three, befriended many of the artists and curators and took home my second favorite visual artist on the planet - but it's not like I created it. You woulda thought so by my love for it's purpose.
You can essentially repeat that statement in its entirety about Fringe. Except I was more involved in that venture, and was impacted far more deeply by its artistic offerings and its potential to sustain itself and provide impetus for a much needed shift in the stagnate pop-performance world.
And to hear so many out of town artists, involved in each of those moving festivals, speak about how Cincy offered cool opportunities and venues that you'd be hard pressed to find anywhere else....
The 'Natti has so many amazing aspects I'd love to expand on, but once again the road is calling and lures me away.
Pull gently; I'm torn.
posted by Lindsay at 7:02 PM
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home