![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
Do I know Kung-fu?
Jan. 20th, 2011 10:39 amThe 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:
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:
