A GAY MARRIAGE

While I was living with Don Cherry’s family in Tågarp in Sweden I went back to visit in the communal house in Älmeboda where I had been living the year before. The local weekly paper was lying around and I picked it up. It contained normally only a few items of local interest, but this one had a story that made me chuckle:

A justice of peace in Nevada had married a gay couple trying to make it possible for one of them, who was not an American citizen, to legally remain in the United States. A local homophobe demonstrated his disapproval of gay marriage by going to the judge and asking to be married to his horse, but the judge turned him down on the ground that his horse was underage.

I really loved how cleverly the judge warded off the attempt at discrediting his act of marrying a gay couple.

A few years later I was in America and my lesbian friend Sylvia asked me if I could help a gay friend of hers who was threatened with expulsion by having him for a while at my place in the mountains. I remembered the story and I had a hunch that this was the same person as the one who was married in Nevada and whose story had found its way into Älmeboda’s local rag. And sure enough it was he, still on the run from the American immigration, which of course had not respected the marriage.

OPTIC ILLUSION

You don't need to do anything but look and it'll start moving.

ONE MORE PAINTING

Here is my last painting. Pretty crazy!

TAI JI

This cool picture was in the dance studio in Ukiah. Try to move backwards and forwards while looking at it. Do you see something?

Let’s talk about nothing.

Nothing is really interesting to discuss.

It’s a question whether nothing does exist?
Is nothing something and is something nothing?

I simply believe nothing does not exist.
In reality it’s nothing.

I wonder if nothing is worth discussing then?
I hope so, since nothing is being discussed.

Enough of that.
Forget it, it’s just nothing.

MORE FROM UKIAH

Mario

Reflections in the pond

Hills

This young deer was hanging out near the house and let me get quite close for a picture

DANCE CLASS IN UKIAH

June and Diansu.
June is my friend from Japan who is visiting America at the moment.
Diansu is brother in law to Ibro Konaté who was my teacher when I first was in Guinea, West Africa in 1995 and 1996.

DAVID

A boy I knew in Paris a long time ago.

ERIC MASSART

Flute player

Toreador

Torso

Plate

Table

Eric Massart is a 45 year old artist who lives in Alès, a small town near Nîmes in southern France. Here he has a workshop and showroom for his colorful art that includes works in many materials, not only paintings but also ceramics and furniture. I am very impressed with his work and urge you to visit his website.

'ROUND THE HOUSE

The blue bicycle and the frame that was put up last summer for the children to climb on.

Melanie doing laundry.

and hanging out colors.

Eric back home from drumming on the beach.

A peep at the street.

Thanks for the visit!

ANOTHER PAINTING

This is another painting from last week, all watercolor.

MATH

I found this French blog, Matooblog, that is interesting, very intellectual and also, it seems, very popular. There was a post that began: “Math totally gives me a hard-on.” about Poincaré’s conjecture which after nearly a century of efforts has been solved by Grigori Perelman; some higher mathematics that I only vaguely understood. I read it and the 29 commentaries that ranged from further examples of mathematical intricacies to humorous acknowledgements of complete lack of understanding.
One Jarûd told this story:

During a mundane dinner the conversation spins out and stretches to the religious concept of the Trinity: the Father, the Son, the Holy Ghost, one divine person in three and so forth.
A lady turns to Einstein: “But you as a brilliant scientist, doesn’t it chock you that three entities, whose existence cannot be proved, could be one?”
Einstein answers: “Not at all, my dear. Take exp(i.Pi): none of the three are real and yet the result is 1.”
(in fact that’s in absolute value)

NEW PAINTING

One of my favorite things to do, on one of the evenings when all my friends are out partying, is to dedicate a pipe to the green goddess, then put on some jazz or African music and start painting, just playing with colors and forms and doing whatever the mood tells me.
This is what came out the last time!

JOSHUA REDMAN

Tonight I enjoyed my birthday present from Tony: a show of my choice. We went to Joshua Redman's trio with Reuben Rogers on bass and Eric Harland on drums at the Kuumbwa Jazz Center.
In that same location I saw Joshua's father, Dewey Redman, when he was here with Don Cherry about 25 years ago.
Jazz is totally alive today and in better health than it was in then. This generation of jazz musicians is amazing, each one seems to be a master on his instrument and they play with such devotion to each other that they can weave the most subtle rhythmic tissue of sound together. Their music has everything: sweetness, excitement, humor and an irresistible groove.
We are blessed here in Santa Cruz with a jazz center that has special connections to some of the best jazz musicians in the world.

SNAKE STORIES

I love snakes. When I was 12 or 13-year-old in school we were all assembled in the gym and someone gave a talk, but all I remember was that he had a snake that he let pass around from hand to hand. It was about five feet long, thick and smooth and copper colored and I fell in love with it. In Denmark there are not many snakes and it wasn’t until I lived in the Santa Cruz Mountains that my encounters with snakes became frequent.

The first time I heard a rattlesnake, I was walking with a small boy. The sound carries a strong message: “Watch out!” and my immediate reaction was to tear the boy away from the sound, so we didn’t even see the snake.
Sometime later I was sitting in our primitive kitchen when I heard the sound again right outside. I went out to check and there was our cat facing a rattlesnake. The cat lifted the paw to strike and the rattler sounded his warning. The cat lowered the paw and the rattler stopped rattling. This went back and forth a couple of times and I thought it would be better to break it up before something happened, so I stepped up and lifted the cat right out of the situation. While I was still standing there with the cat in my arms, the snake turned around and slithered away peacefully. That confirmed my belief that rattlesnakes are essentially peaceful.
I had been living in a tipi and later I vent to the site where the plywood floor was still lying on the ground to look for some papers I had lost. When I lifted one of the sheets I found, instead of papers, a hibernating rattlesnake. I thought it would be nice if it were living in my garden and helping me to keep the population of rats and gophers in check. I had a plan. First I made a stick with a loop of string that could be tightened and then I prepared a new home for the snake in the hollow stump of a tree I had cut down. There was already an aperture in the side of the stump and, after I had provided it with a roof of plywood, it made a perfect snake home. I picked the snake up with the stick, placed it in a bucked, and brought it to its new home. Unfortunately the snake didn’t agree. When I checked up on it the next day it had left its perfect home!
It may have been the same snake that moved into my friend’s house. She called me for help: a rattlesnake was lying curled up right inside her front door. Armed with my stick and bucket I came to her rescue. I soon had the snake outside but the loop around its neck wouldn’t loosen up. I had to work a pair of scissors in under the string next to the snake’s head and cut it loose. All this the snake accepted calmly until I tried to coax it into the bucket with the stick; then it lost patience and struck once at the bucket, but I got it in anyway and carried it away from the house and let it go.
One curious thing happened. I was walking up a path when I heard the rattle and saw a snake. I stopped and looked, but there was no rattle at the end of its tail. When I moved again, it produced the sound by whipping its tail against the dry leaves; it was a gopher snake trying to scare me away by imitating a rattlesnake!

For facts about rattlesnakes check here

THE CHILDREN

at Dunun Village

MARIJUANA

A poll in the weekly Santa Cruz paper ‘Good Times’ asks: “Should marijuana be legalized?”

The answers:
54.4% Oh, totally.
25,8% Yes, if it’s heavily taxed and regulated.
11.0% Usage should be legal but not sales.
8.2% No.
0.5% other

This amounts to 91.2% for the usage being legal. Quite impressive! But of course this is Santa Cruz!

I never understood the position that usage should be legal but not sales. It’s so illogical. Should only those who have a possibility of growing marijuana themselves be allowed to smoke it without breaking the law? If something is legal to consume, it must be legal to buy and sell.

What would actually happen if marijuana were made completely free to produce, buy, sell, and consume? Like any other herb. Would everybody start smoking? Would our society collapse?
The price would go down for sure, but it would still be possible to make a decent living as marijuana farmer. The government would save a lot of money they now use in that sector of the War on Drugs. The other parts of the very useful hemp plant could be freely exploited to the benefit of mankind. A sizable group of inmates would be freed from prison and again much money saved.
It might harm the tobacco industry, but tobacco is much more harmful to the health than marijuana.

19TH DUNUN VILLAGE

The gathering was smaller than recent spring gatherings, probably because the Guinea Conference was held simultaneously in Oakland. No African teachers graced this gathering with their presence, but it was good to confirm that we have enough talented dancers and drummers to raise the energy by ourselves. The weather was perfect, hot enough to warrant a refreshing dip in the river, but not a debilitating heat.
There was a nice community feeling; things were not organized but they were still taken care of: the food, the fire, the cave-like tent – I don’t even know who did it all, but it manifested and I extend my thanks to those who worked for the common welfare. And a welcome to the newcomers, several of them born within this last year.
Saturday I went on an expedition upriver with Mario and the twins, Trillium and Silas, skipping rocks and evading the alligators that the boys were slightly nervous about.
Here are some pictures:

Conquering the wilds

Friendships are made

The boys can dance too!

The cave

Paul's place

Nuksak cooling off

Simon

Geno and Paul

Judah, a new face

Sosha, a beautiful dance teacher

INTERMISSION

I'm off to Dunun Village Gathering for an extended weekend.
I'll be back with photos!
Have a great weekend!

BEING GAY (AN INTERVEIW)

Would you choose to be straight if you had the choice?

I have noticed this question being posed several times on the net. The answer was always ‘No!’
For myself, the answer is the same and the reason is simple. Being gay is an integral part of who I am and all through my life renewal and expansion has come through my love for boys. The memories of all these boys and the feelings that they inspired are precious to me.

So, what do you think caused you to be gay?

For me I think part of the cause was in my surroundings when I grew up. I was living with three women and had virtually no connection with male energy until I began school, an all boy’s school. I had a thirst for male closeness, nothing sexual really, but when I awoke to my sexuality it naturally connected with the intense interest and attraction I had to my school friends. I liked girls well enough and felt at home with them, but I was not attached to them and did not wish them to be attached to me. When a girl was in love with me, it was flattering in the beginning and maybe even a bit exciting, but after a while it felt restricting and I lost interest.
There are so many shades of gayness-bisexuality and I think they have different combinations of causes. Someone else might have grown up in circumstances similar to mine and not have become gay, who knows? There might be something else in my character that disposed me towards the way I developed.
As a believer in reincarnation and karma I think the ultimate cause lays there, so you can say that you are born to it, which is another reason that I would not wish it otherwise.

When did you first become aware of your gay feelings?

I was around ten years old when I fell in love for the first time. He was the cousin of a boy who lived on my street and he came the first summer I lived there and stayed for a while. I was totally in love with him. There were both the bliss and the despair of passionate love. When I slept over at his place and we were in bed together, even though there was nothing sexual, I remember the happiness of being warm and close and cozy. But one time when we played in the street he said something nasty to me and I ran home in despair. I stood in front of the mirror in the bathroom with tears running down my face, when a light sound made me turn and I glimpsed his eye in the chink behind the door. Others did not seem to have that kind of feelings; I knew they were exaggerated, but there was no denying them; I could only try to hide them.
There is another memory: playing with my best friend from school, I reached over him and as my body pressed against his I had an erection and I noticed the pleasant feeling of it. But these memories stand alone and unconnected. It was not until my first orgasmic experience with Poul when I was twelve that my sexuality came to bloom.
Poul was the grandson of an older couple who were friends of my mother. They lived in a small town and when we visited I was lodged with Poul’s family where I had him and his sister as playmates. Poul, the youngest, was two years younger than me. At a visit when I was twelve, we were put in the same bed at night and his sister on a cot next to us. While she was asleep Poul and I fooled around with each other, and for the first time, being not alone, I came, while Poul was still too young to have an orgasm.

How did you feel about being gay?

Well, I didn’t think I of myself as homosexual. I had heard very little about homosexuals: it seemed that they were effeminate and so a bit ridiculous and also sad and lonely. That was not me at all. I knew how I felt, but I expected to find the right woman some day and I would be like everybody else.
I did find happiness in the close friendships of youth and during the teen years this closeness included mutual masturbation with Poul, whom I didn’t see often, and also with my best friend in school. The noose tightened when they didn’t want this anymore. I tried out with girls but it never went very far. Still, my way of dealing with it was to not think too much about it.
I was more or less waiting for a solution to appear, and when it finally did, I had no hesitation in accepting it. I was gay and there were others who felt like me.

So, how old were you when you came out?

I was 25. It was an incredible release to come to a conclusion and I was very happy. The energy that had thus far been used to fool others and myself as to my sexuality now became free to be used in a constructive way and I began a new life as an artist.

Did you find a mate?

That was quite another thing. This was 1950 and there was not much of a network to support gays. My first lovers were not interested in long-term relationship, or available. There was one club for gays and I went there and found only effeminate and sad older homosexuals that I didn’t feel any affinity for. All that was left was cruising and I was not very bold and also quite specific in my tastes. I seemed to fall in love with straight boys and more or less continue in the pattern already set.
I did finally find a mate when I was 28. He was ten years younger and moved in with me, but it was not all happy harmony. He was not into monogamy and it lasted less than three years and left me rather depressed. After that I had only shorter affairs; it seemed to be difficult to combine the sexual with the emotional aspects.
Later I lived near a cruising place, a small forest where gays came during the white nights throughout the summer. The Danish summer is so short and the weather is unstable, so I didn’t go that often, but I had some gratifying encounters. There was something romantic in the mutual pure lust given free play in the silent summer night.

What are your specific tastes?

Oh, they cannot be categorized. Maybe I can say that they often duplicate my early attractions. There are so many levels of attraction, from the intense love–at-first-sight to the slowly ripening interest. I have a hard time separating the emotional from the sexual and the sexual from the spiritual in my relations with boys. It’s all expressions of the same, but it is impossible to explain.
I could say that my specific tastes in the visual department are shown on my blog BOYS I LIKE.

You started a discussion of boy-love on that blog. Are you attracted to younger boys?

Yes, sometimes. And I really sincerely believe that there is more abuse out there, in relationships among adults, than there is between men and boys. To me, the worst thing our society does to the young is denying their sexual nature and their power to know what they want, and trying to ‘protect’ them by lying to them and concealing the truth.
For many people this issue is totally taboo, there is nothing to discuss. Well, I think there is a lot to discuss. For one thing, just as there are men attracted to boys, there are boys who are attracted to grown men. There is a balance in things. And we don’t choose our attractions, so we should respect how others feel. The feelings are god-given and how we act on them only God can judge. But there are people who profess to know what God’s intensions are and what God wants, and they are not open to any form of discussion.
In many cultures boy-love was the very definition of homosexuality; it was part of learning how to be a man.

How is it to grow old being gay?

I think each age has its advantages and its drawbacks. It was never easy to be gay, emotionally, but maybe it’s just that all human relationships are difficult. I have more peace of mind now than before and that is the most important, isn’t it? And I still have young friends around who are a source of joy and keep me alive.

What do you think of gay marriage?

I don’t think gays should imitate straights, really; I think they should have the same rights as everybody else. Marriage seems to be in decline anyway, so what’s the point? It’s just a word. But gays want to be respectable and to fit in. The gay movement was not like that in the beginning. I just read about Harry Hay who was the first to organize a gay movement, the Mattachine Society; I think it was in 1950. He was trying to define the role that gay people could assume in the future society from the roles they played in the cultures of earlier times. He was radical. I think it’s sad when gays become as closed-minded as their bigoted pursuers. I wish we could go back to the times when the word homosexual didn’t exist. It was just something some people did and some others didn’t, no big deal.

YANSANE

I met this boy from Senegal in Paris in 1951, He was one of the first Africans I got to know.

BISMILLAH

'In the name of God, the compassionate, the merciful' is the opening sentence of the suras in the Koran.

LIKE WATER

Click to enlarge!


'Like Water Drum and Dance' send me this picture of the whole group. Six of them were here showing the film 'Illymanya' at the Santa Cruz Film Festival at the end of April and stayed in our house five days. I was happy to get to know them.

TUESDAY CLASS

Armand

Ryan

Eric

In my class yesterday, my camera, unintensionally set on manual, produced these pictures that rather please me!

STYLE WARS

A friend of mine had me watch a documentary called ‘Style Wars’ about a group of youngsters in New York City who painted their names in public places, mostly on the subway trains. The paintings were executed with spray-paint in bold designs in variations of a constantly changing style that had been developed by different early masters of the art. There were different schools and influences.
Everybody who has spray-painted knows how one short moment’s hesitation leaves its mark. These guys were in complete control of their tools while they worked in the narrow space between two rows of parked subway trains, walking on the ground. They worked together two or three in different constellations and they always worked in a rush of concentrated creativity with an uncertain deadline of discovery threatening.
It was in all senses a mobile art form. Their works of art traveled around town and revealed themselves to the initiates at random moments like a confirmation of their community. These kids were also break-dancers and rappers and some were as young as 11, most were in their teens and some in their early twenties.
The group of artists was the aristocracy of the tribe of ordinary of taggers who just had a graphic curlicue signature that they tagged wherever they fancied, sometimes on top of the more elaborate designs. There was even one guy who only worked on top of others work; on the best he could find he would paint his big logo right in the middle.
It was the beginning of an ongoing cultural warfare, on one side the young fought with the spray can, on the other side the City did its best to destroy whatever they could, washing the cars in a paint solvent. They also fenced the cars in and complained of the millions of dollars they put into the fight against tagging.
The young taggers expressed their contempt for a society that had left them with the hard crusts to chew by using the property of the society as their canvas. It was all about obtaining name recognition by marking their territory.
My feelings are mixed. I have great admiration for the artists, and in boring or grim environments even a cacophony of tags enliven the place, but when simple tags spread on the perfect old buildings in Europe like a skin cancer, it is not art anymore to me, just a barbarian cultural invasion and an expression of immature desperation. The point, of course, is revolutionary, which is why society reacts so strongly.