scottopic: (chinks to the infinite power.)
The answer is "Of course". The answer is always, automatically "of course".

It's always, because it's right up there with "Are you a god?"

It's automatic, because I get asked this often. Like several times a year, by strangers on the street.
In elevators at Dragon Con. In MARTA stations.

And once again last week.

I was at an art show featuring a friend of my brilliant artist friend, EK Huckaby.
It was a typical in-town sort of gallery showing in a pretty cool gallery. A wealthy woman in the Edgewood District of Atlanta decided she wanted to support artists she liked and converted an entire wing of her enormous Victorian into a gallery. The sorts you'd usually expect were there - lots of dark blazers and cocktail dresses, but with a nice bohemian element, and EK in the midst of it, being his wonderfully dark and bizarre self.

The work featured altered photographs for the most part. Odd landscapes with things that hinted at a supernatural element...but maybe it's just the lighting. A dead rabbit is a reference to an obscure Warhol piece. A tiny mouse is hidden...somewhere.

I was reading the artist's statement by the greeter's door. I like how people tic/k.
A fellow was near the desk, drinking one of the complimentary drinks, looking like part of the crowd, which is to say I paid him no attention beyond courtesy.

Mid-sentence, the subject line landed on the page in front of me.

"Do you know Kung-fu?"
"Of course."
"I was thinking you look kinda like Bruce Lee...I guess he's a little younger."
"And dead."
"Yeah. So...what sort of martial art do you know?"
"Capoera"
"Oh? What's that?"
"Brazilian kickboxing."
Keep smiling
"Oh, cool...I have a friend who knows aikido. Is it like that?"
"No, not really. Ok, see ya."

There are other esprit de escalier that came to mind immediately, the dinner conversation with Faidra, EK and his lovely companion Carolyn and more even days later. I can't be angry about this sort of thing, although anger is in the swirl of the experience. I've laughed a lot about it, and the overall fact that this happens to me so damn often.

This speaks to me because ...think about it... someone asking you if you know martial arts is an implied challenge of sorts. Asking it simply and strictly because you look Asian is an aggressive act of racism. There's an odd angle because out of the many dozens of times I've faced point-blank open racism (in public!), this particular line of questioning is always black men, and I don't even know where to begin on what that may mean within the data point called "my life experience."

When describing what happened at dinner, I remarked "I don't think he was out to offend me."
EK replied "Are you sure??"

No, no I'm not.

With that, I'll leave this here:
scottopic: (Default)
"...are you ready to rock?"

She recently told me that it might be I have a hard time letting myself really care about most things.
I don't know for certain - I do know I care passionately about a few select things, but that's not the same.

"And I don't need to hear your stories again -
just get on the floor and show me what you're made of."

Forgive me if I mentioned this before, the ergot-colored lenses are still clearing from the night - when I visited Greece last year, we were going to see the Acropolis. You know, it's this big fucking hill in the middle of Athens, with all of these beautiful things of unparalleled historical and symbolic significance(esp. for THIS VERY ANECDOTE). I was in much worse shape than I am now, and while with a stunning tourguide, the pollution and heat bothered me some, to the point where I sat down at one point and reconsidered going to the Acropolis.

And then, it struck me: What the...Why the Hell am I here?
I'm in Greece. I'm going to see the fucking Acropolis.

"And have you ever stopped to ask yourself?
if you didn't come to party, then why did you come here?"

So yeah?
Why the Hell am I here?
If I didn't come to party...then why did I come here?

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