deluge

of portland, with Kidd Pivot, with Bassnectar, with an amazing man, with blues and brilliant improv jazz, with lovers, with friends, with strangers... i am finally, infinatelly, here.
not to imply that portland is a place. it's a state of mind. it is the journey, for me at least.
I must have accumulated a hunger for the social arts, visual, visceral, ephemoral, in the years that I rampaged in the woods and desert. now that I am here, I find myself on the pendulum swinging from long periods of my own making to long periods of soaking in the delights of so many other makers. Halloween saw the close of a long period of work-related stress, and I sailed into a long weekend of woodfiring with a light step if heavy eyelids. The workshop with Lindsay was just brilliant. that chicka knows her bizness- what an inspiration... I saw an unusually well-organized workshop (thank you Chris Baskin!) glow with good cooperative energy and great communication. and then, selfishly, I got to spend beautiful long hours with the dear lady, on her birthday. after election day!!! Fuck Yea! I spent a good portion of that day after listening to all the jubilant voices on the radio, looking at photos on the huffington post- dazed. delighted. porous. (tempered now by doubts over his cabinet choices, but, yea, um- I guess it was a short hunnymoon- but I'm still in love)
so, Kidd Pivot. Kidd Pivot! brainchild of Crystal Pite. maybe I just crave more in the way of emotive qualities in dance. well, there's lots of expression, of course everywhere, there's also a most beautiful rarefied sometimes jaw-dropping but still distant entertainment quality to certain performances. I want to be punched in the gut. I want to be quivering in my seat. I got what I wanted. seemed like every delicious articulation of toe and every elation of breath gasped out the intensity of life in the face of death. we social, competitive, manic, ebullient and empathetic individuals seemed condensed in her choreographic vision- I have never before so strongly identified with a space and movement. I sat in the audience calculating just how impossible it would be for me to leave behind 15 years of ceramics and dance all day for her instead. I'm too old. but maybe? maybe? until I found myself engulfed ... oh!
and then a few days later it was Bassnectar! coming at us with his constant good juju jujitsu. more friends and a soul shakedown party. You should look him up, regardless of whether or not you like the phat break-bass, because he is slowly, lovingly, gathering steam, and the man is making some big political statements. He doesn't do it with a sledgehammer, he does it by tuning in to the vibe of the crowd and getting all of them dancing- all of them. the whole wonder ballroom was, if not dancing, at least swaying. me? you know me. accidentally jumping on people's toes and apologizing.
a few nights later than that, what should happen- a tour kickoff show by the Blue Cranes. pdx brilliant jazz improv, one of the saxes a carl grad that i enjoyed at some of the finer parties of my college daze.. so tight now, aiee! recorded, in a little gallery, with two drunk girls who didn't have a clue how loud they were but hey. a few of us had escorted them out, and the Portland Cello Project joined the cranes at the stage, what a treat- and one of the ladies returned, sang along with the lead cello, then demanded a dance partner. at that point, it was laughter- not derisive. a silly duet, interactive art, one seemingly desheveled medium materializing into another. and then off they go, looping around the post and off into the backalley.
I am full. and broke. and going travelling for almost two months. this is rediculous. it's fucking beautiful... long live the end of the world as we know it!!