How we shape one another.
Planning for my second solo show, Miksang photos (www.miksang.org for genre/philosophy information) of road construction, while in the midst of attempted reconstruction, half-hearted at best so far, of some relationship with blood. Blood thick water thick, but is what is between me and my friends as thin as politics? As thin as a nod at the War Room table, banter that covers deeper inclinations, declarations, and decisions? Surely the blood we make out of wine, out on the porch late at night, Latin American politics and persual of the right for free speech moment by moment, is as much a miracle as the accident of family birth. Or adoption, for instance. Certainly there is a thickness there that the old adage does not address.
A good french friend once advised to change frames if the view loses its sepia lustre. Switching photos from shadow boxes to gold to black, I have had more than enough time to consider context, and watch myself pinhole even the best-intended love into severed connections. I cannot help, so much time spent on my personal arts, considering how this much be the larger frame politicians face the world with. Witnessing a lecture by Chogyam Trungpa Rinpoche last night, the former founder/leader of Shambhala International (www.shambhala.org), he spoke so much of fear. This was the base. This is the reason why most think Buddhists are dark in the USA. And yet there was such joy, just think, if at the base of all of our interactions, there is choice. Choice to nurture the wolf in sheeps' clothing, or to let it go. This is so far off the dynamic of the US' current politics that I can't even compare it. I certainly couldn't hope for *this* frame to change, to think that my "solution" is so simple. And yet, how could our leaders not see complexity as more engaging? Perhaps, after all, wrapped up in their own engagements, they like their frames just fine. As image-nation-less the ideals they frame are...