Astronomy isn’t About Race: unless there are people up there, then it is.

Race is not a thing. By that I mean it is not an event, an object, or even an adjective.

Race is a who.IMG_70891

Race is not the only thing a person “is”, but everyone has a race, and that race, because it is a social construct, affects how that person, all of us, interacts within a society. For most of America’s existence “race” or “race issues” really means things having to do with anyone who isn’t white. Otherwise those things are just plain old issues.

When the Declaration of Independence was written race was never mentioned but it wasn’t exactly ignored. White was assumed. So really, race wasn’t ignored, non-white people were ignored. The word race would only come up when “We the People” were being talked or written about in comparison to those who weren’t, or aren’t, considered white. So when it came to the constitution there was “we the people”, and then there were also Native Americans and those 3/5ths of persons held in servitude.

Remember that race is always a who.with flag

Because race is a who, making something about, or not about race, is really making it about, or not about, a person.

Knowing this is important, mostly for white people as we are the ones who are less used to our race being spoken of explicitly. We are used to just being people, not white people. We need to realize that when we say “this isn’t about race”, what that translates to is, “this isn’t about you.” Which is ironic because most of the times I hear someone say “this isn’t about race”, or “don’t make this a race issue”, it is being said by a white person who is referencing something involving non-white people whom they have never met.

For example when someone says college admissions should ignore race, what that really means is colleges should ignore that there are people who aren’t white. When a black person is killed by a police officer and our response is, this has nothing to do with race. What is really being said is that said instance wasn’t about the black person- though that is who was shot.IMG_1908

This gets real tricky, or troubling, when it really is about them. Or… maybe it is very telling when we white people talk this way.

As in I, a white person, looks at a situation in which I am not directly involved, and say to the black people involved, “this isn’t about race”, which would mean “this isn’t about black people”- then who is left for it to be about? What we are inadvertently saying is that it is about us. About white people. And if we white people are the ones saying such things we should probably think a little bit more about how we are at the heart of all these race issues.

This is the part, or the point, where we get very defensive and start “No. That isn’t what I said or what I meant.”

But it is. We just don’t like to deal with that. Because any issue or instance where people are involved- is a race issue.

You cannot un-race a person. Maybe one day skin color won’t hold real relevance, but even when that day comes, we will all still have a skin color, we will have simply shifted who “we” includes and the ways in which we value each other.

Advertisements

Leave a comment

Filed under people

A Fanboy Obeys the Giant and the Necessity of Open Arms: Shepard Fairey

A part of growth and maturation is the humble re-learning of things we already know. We understand that what goes up, must come down, yet throughout our mortality we continually toss things into the air hoping they will somehow take flight. Ideas, aspirations, children, all tossed up and most of them tumble back down with varying effect or consequence.

But sometimes things soar.

There have been times and occasions when I have thrown about the idea of committing myself to being an artist. In those moments, before the idea falls flat, I have looked at the careers and works of two artists whose work I have simply always liked- and who I have in many ways imitated. Those that soar.

One of them is Shepard Fairey.

Back when my wife and I were young, and broke, and had nothing on our walls that I hadn’t painted myself, I would troll the Obey Giant website waiting for Shepard’s flash sales but never bought anything. It is hard to justify buying art when the kid needs diapers.

So. Many. Diapers.

In 2007 I made my very first art purchase. It was just a print. The image consisted of two small African children rendered in gold, green, and orange, below the word “HOPE”. It was affordable, $15 0r $25 if I recall correctly, and all the proceeds went to Darfur. It was a perfect purchase. It looked how I liked, had a message I appreciated, with the bonus of potentially tangible aid to a cause.IMG_0489.JPG

A year or so later I saw another HOPE poster by the same artist. So did the whole world

My oldest daughter, who I thankfully caught when tossed in the air, recently reminded me that having a fandom isn’t considered cool. I asked her in all of her middle school expertise, if there were some things cool enough that fandom would be excusable. She could not think of any.

This was in my mind when I shook Shepard’s hand last Saturday.

Not that I have ever had any real cool to begin with, but I did my best to keep it in that moment. In every instance I’ve made the attempt to keep my cool when excitement was bubbling hot below the surface, the results have been stiff and awkward encounters. I was awkward and gawky. I tried not to be, as I was in this instance the guest of a guest, but “tried” almost by definition denotes failure.

Luckily the person whose guest I was initially, was, and is, cool enough that I didn’t ruin everything, but at the end of the day- I met my Luke Skywalker.

I also met, but mostly saw, a world, or crowd, not my own. I like that world, I just don’t know it. And in knowing I don’t know it, but finding myself there that night, I felt myself world adjacent. I was next to it, I saw it, but I was never really in it.

That is how worlds work.

You can know all sorts of things without them being a part of you. You can want to know everything, you can look, stare and gawk, but to enter, you need an invite. A host.

How does one find a host in a world they know nothing of? I’ve lucked my way into a few of those in the past. I crashed a party or strolled past the guards unannounced and stumbled into the lap of a host here and there. But gate crashing only gets you so far. It can get you in the room, but not really into the group. I get that. I get it. It is what it is.

It being what it is, is why I have decided that when I have a chance, when I am positioned to be one, I will look for people who need a host. I will be that. In the event that one is outside looking into wherever I am, I will open the door and my arms, and show them the ropes.

No one can welcome everyone, and if where you are is a place everyone wants to be, I get the need to screen. Or protect. Or just rest. But I am not there. I am just here. Just is the right adjective. I am only in this middle place that only some people want to be but aren’t, so I can afford the extra company. If you want into my world, the one I know, I can and hope to be that guy. HOPE. The print I bought had that word, along with the words “helping other people everywhere.”

I cannot expect entre’ into all the spaces and places and peoples at which I gaze. Nor do I deserve it. But if I, or maybe you, catch the eye of an outsider, they will forever remain outside till one of us lets them in. And who knows, maybe one day I, or one of you, will toss out an idea, and it will be one of those hosts who give it wings.

Also… Shepard Fairey, and his art, and his studio, and his friends, are freaking awesome and I don’t care what my middle school daughter thinks!

And also also… Justin Bua is on notice.

Leave a comment

Filed under events, people, style

Gjusta

I drove past Gjusta twice without seeing it. There is no sign outside and you enter through the side lot.

It is worth finding.

Touting itself as a bakery, which is important as the most important element of a sandwich is the bread, but they do so much more.

They have cheese. And charcuterie. I love cheese and charcuterie.

I extra love fresh mixed ginger lemonade and they have it there.

But above all, what I love most, is a great environment and better company with which to share my meals. At Gjusta, you have to bring you own company, but they provide the rest.

Leave a comment

Filed under food

Football in L.A.

Football in L.A. is mostly the Trojans. Sure the town now has two pro teams, neither of which are the Raiders, and UCLA has been playing well the past few years, but still, when people here think of pro football, odds are they mean soccer.But the Rams are back in town and no matter with whom they share a stadium, be it Carl Lewis or Marcus Allen, they will all be playing in one of America’s most iconic venues.

I will watch anyone play football any where, but not every game is played in a place with an olympic cauldron {insert shout-out to the University of Utah here}. Now granted, most other venues have better luxury suites, or tailgating, or at least one modern bell or whistle, but none of them are in Los Angeles.

And being in L.A. means elote and agua fresca. Everywhere should have elote.

Now forgive my limited sample size (just LA and Philly), but here is what I can say from what I have seen- or experienced. Rams crowds are about 1/28th as aggressive as Eagles crowds. Perhaps it is because of the better weather, or because you would need a pitcher’s arm in order to hurl a battery from the cheap seats to the field in the Coliseum, but I saw people wearing the other team’s jersey in the stands without harassment. I got a sun burn. No one hurled obscenities at their own team’s players. But, in both places, the players ran, tackled, threw, caught and kicked.

And football fans were pretty much still themselves.

Leave a comment

Filed under events, places

In The Studio: Darius Tribute

I chose the words on this painting with careful intent. Many people call him Papa Gray, though he and I don’t really have that sort of relationship.

But the relationship he has, and has consistently cultivated over the years with others, becomes obvious if you hang around anywhere near him for any period of time.

Or really, his influence becomes irrefutable if you just hang around any black Mormons for any period of time.

The words I chose are Pioneer,

Teacher

Lonely

Black and Proud

Wise

Friend

Mentor

Faith

Unwearying

Advocate

and Moving Forward Together.

Thank you Darius

Leave a comment

Filed under people

The Fall of an Icon: Toys R’ Us

While doing a very strange thing, walking from one store to another in a large strip mall, I saw a hand written sign. This was odd, the walking that is, because normally people drive to one store then leave. It isn’t a “thing” to visit TJ Maxx then stroll over to PetSmart for a minute and then top the trip off with a meal at Bonefish Grill. No. The walking at these places only goes from the car to the big glass doors and back, and even this is done grudgingly in the event you are forced to park beyond the first three stalls.

I was walking because the first store I visited was out of what I was looking for, a shoe, and at the other end of the strip, was another shoe store. I looked at my car, over at the shoe store, then back at my car. The triangle between me and the store and the car was probably a total of 100 yards, yet somehow it was still a tough decision.

So I did that odd thing and instead of walking straight toward my car, I turned to my right, and I walked. While walking I saw that sign. It was taped on the inside of the big glass doors and and said “Toys R Us is closed forever.”

In seeing that sign I instantly flashed back to my childhood. There I was, sitting on the floor within arms reach of the numbered dial, I saw the commercial with the singing kids and that big giraffe. I’d only been there once but it was my Xanadu. A palatial place built just for me when the rest of the world was for grown ups. Aisle upon aisle of toys I never even knew existed, each one better than the one before, and if legend was true, they would even let you play with them in the store. Like I said I’d only been there once but those commercials and that song helped the legend grow in my mind and it all bubbled up as I walked past that day.

I was slightly perturbed by the idea that capitalist speculation brought this giant to its end. The idea that such an icon could be brought down in a board room or an exchange rather than a production line or register depressed me. And in that state I stopped to snap a picture.

Perhaps it was because I paused, a physical action that prompted my brain to do the same, but I realized then how hood winked I was. Or am. I was lamenting how capitalists had destroyed the object of my youthful, pointless, consumerist fantasy. I never got that 2,000 piece Lego pirate ship, nor the full size Castle of Grey Skull, I knew I would never have them, and yet I pined.

I pined hard. Can you pine hard? Does pining work that way? I don’t know for sure but I’m convinced thats what I did. And I felt the pangs of the pining looking at that picture and looking at my little digital screen it occurred to me, that I have never had any real need, or use, for a Lego pirate ship.

No one does.

Sure having one would be fun and cool but fun and cool aren’t, or shouldn’t, be pined for.  It isn’t that serious. They got me. They got inside my head and little heart those creepy craven consumerists! They got me so hard that I felt an actual emotion, sadness, at the sight of an empty consumerist icon falling away. I do not fault any child, myself included, for fantasizing about endless rows of things to play with. But really, no one needs endless rows of toys.

Reality is that my children will always have access to a toy. They already have too many, just like I did when I was little. Yet I as a child, and we as adults, keep pushing more and more and more. We produce and then watch commercials and we build Xanadus of stuff and most of it is just for the sake of more. We are all at fault. It is not just me lacking discipline and letting myself fall prey to materialism- though it is that too. But it is also us. It is all of us accepting that all of this is not just okay but ideal. Like it is and must be who we are as a society. I love beauty, and play, and fun. Those things are good. There should always be play and fun in all of our lives. But when we already have an abundance of that, should we be pining for more? We can and should be better than that. But we aren’t.

And I know we aren’t because when I walked past a hand written sign saying an icon of frivolous consumerism was closed forever, I felt sad.

Leave a comment

Filed under places

My Modern Man’s Modest Wish List: stuff I don’t have but should- part 1

Occasionally I drift into materialistic dreams of stuff that I believe would make my life, and myself, better.

I do not have these things in part because of the specificity of my tastes, but also, because I maintain a modest budget that leans more toward necessities. My real challenge in life is finding ways to make the following items necessary.

The items in question are:

Solidly made, water resistant, steel banded wristwatch.

Image result for rolex, white face

Black running shoes, no colored trim, no bulging or bubbling soles.

Image result for black running shoes

Plain brown, no extra zippers, no colored trim, high collared, leather racing jacket.

Image result for brown cafe racer leather  jacket

Brown leather, no adornments, waterproof, hiking boots.

Related image

All black, no colored trim, backpacking backpack.

Image result for black hiking backpack

Black sub freezing sleeping bag.

Image result for black sleeping bag

Desert tan pack packing tent.

Related image

Navajo blanket.

Related image

Wooden longboard.

Image result for wood surfboard

Two, leather and wood, Kala armchairs.

Image result for kala studios

Original, large scale painting by Gregg Deal.

Image result for paintings, gregg deal

1st edition 1891 copy of American Football by Walter Camp.

Image result for 1st edition walter camp

I am somewhat surprised I am still alive without these things.

Leave a comment

Filed under Uncategorized