I search through intellectual or “logical” steps in order to rid myself of pain, of regret or loss. Because-could it be true- I trust this in myself or in the structure of a logical argument or progression of thoughts toward a “solution”. Even though it is not always a solution, it can resemble one.
There is the joy and the pain, these two words I use in with the formulation of joy of love, of kindness, newness, excitement and openness. And Pain. Pain is of the promises entered into unawares of the outcome, and simply accepting that the outcome was unknowable. Pain is realization. And joy is overcoming.
We can all hope for something meaningful… meaningful that we can hold up as evidence to others or, most importantly, for ourselves, and say, “Look, I am loved. I have a partner devoted.”
(Flying over Iraqi airspace, Brian seated next to me, oh, how I value this…)
I will be in the company of my Geschwistern for the next week and a half in Kuwait. It perhaps matters little where we are…WherEVER provides a backdrop.
Family stays as friends, crushes and lovers come and go… at least that is what I have experienced.
The qualities of pain are different between these types of relationships.
29 April 2011
Lost love 17.02.11
Love now looks a lot different to me. It is something that doesn’t last and morphs into new and unfamiliar forms between two or more people (Or, why not love within one person, for her- or himself?) My self-love? How has it changed? I have given myself more freedom and more of a voice. I have found it in Ordnung for me to push someone away from me if they are too close. I have decided to do, in the most part, what comes “naturally” to me. Stop with this bullshit proscribing about what is the responsible or the “right” thing to do as a citizen, a white woman, an American, an intelligent person—I believe they all describe me. I am intelligent in so far as I am open and I listen and I want to be fair and experience what I can.
My love for others—the Puritanical background, the idea of denial of something, of declaring something off-limits and inaccessible, forbidden. The beauty of declaring something OFF limits and not right. How beautiful, the struggle, the pain, the desire that builds up. It was not without purpose that I did that, was it?
Why choose certain forbidden pleasures over others?
I search through intellectual or “logical” steps in order to rid myself of pain, of regret or loss. Because-could it be true- I trust this in myself or in the structure of a logical argument or progression of thoughts toward a “solution”. Even though it is not always a solution, it can resemble one.
There is the joy and the pain, these two words I use in with the formulation of joy of love, of kindness, newness, excitement and openness. And Pain. Pain is of the promises entered into unawares of the outcome, and simply accepting that the outcome was unknowable.
We can all hope for something meaningful… meaningful that we can hold up as evidence to others or, most importantly, for ourselves, and say, “Look, I am loved. I have a partner devoted.”
My love for others—the Puritanical background, the idea of denial of something, of declaring something off-limits and inaccessible, forbidden. The beauty of declaring something OFF limits and not right. How beautiful, the struggle, the pain, the desire that builds up. It was not without purpose that I did that, was it?
Why choose certain forbidden pleasures over others?
I search through intellectual or “logical” steps in order to rid myself of pain, of regret or loss. Because-could it be true- I trust this in myself or in the structure of a logical argument or progression of thoughts toward a “solution”. Even though it is not always a solution, it can resemble one.
There is the joy and the pain, these two words I use in with the formulation of joy of love, of kindness, newness, excitement and openness. And Pain. Pain is of the promises entered into unawares of the outcome, and simply accepting that the outcome was unknowable.
We can all hope for something meaningful… meaningful that we can hold up as evidence to others or, most importantly, for ourselves, and say, “Look, I am loved. I have a partner devoted.”
Kuwait
25 February 2010
National holidays and Anniversaries 5-20-50
The commotion in the streets
Young boys and men hanging out of cars—out of windows, sky roofs, waving flags, wearing Kuwaiti flag colored wigs and all manner of garb. Blasting music
The Kuwaiti youth (read: male) display their mobile phone numbers both large and small format on the back of their cars, encouraging young women to call them anonymously.
One of the many ways people get around the strict social mores.
Walking along one of the main streets, watching the cars and excited males drive by with Kuwaiti flags and sheiks and emir portraits plastered to their car windows and on car bodies…but also Saudi Arabian flags, a Lebanese flag, Qatari visitors and tourists from Dubai, all participating in a “people’s parade”—ie. a MASSIVE bumper to bumper traffic jam for hours starting from 3:30pm and going on until past the time I could see it (over 8 hours) and on onto the ring roads. A massive party indeed. Not the typical parade to be viewed, but to be a part of/to participate in and be part of the spectacle.
How impossible, it seemed (or so it actually is), to meet any of these guys or people. Social circles are tight/ tightly policed by everyone. Self-policing. I kept asking myself, where are the women?
Loud music and constant honking
Dumping of trash (plastic bottles, cans, paper) into the gutters by Filipina maids behind the SUV’s of their employers frantically trying to insert the trash through the grating in the street and watching the children while the parents amuse themselves with other things. Half of Kuwait seems to be Filipino—the service people of any restaurant, the maids and trainers, the airport personnel. Then, the workers who are on the lower levels: 3 out of 5 of the taxi drivers we had at random were Iranian. Then, the Bangladeshis, Indians, Pakistanis.
There would appear to be plenty of jobs that pay something for me to do here. I don’t feel like bringing myself out of “the West” right now. Although, I am tired of being understood in a certain way… But, I do not want to live somewhere where I cannot communicate with so much of the population.
Men in dishdashes look sexy to me…these long silouettes with the headdresses and the sandals, looking so damn relaxed and walking so slowly from the inhibiting range the clothing allows for the legs.
All the different signs that can be sent through cloth around the head. And the women are another topic. So many nakobs and women draped in back. What do you call it, exactly? Oppression? Protection? Submission?
And I propose a wet dishdash contest… I enjoyed objectifying the men here, exoticizing them. Who, after all, would have more power in whatever situation? A Kuwaiti man or an American white woman? Would money be the ruling factor? The strength of one’s country? Whose life is worth more?
The use of homosexual relations to get over the strict hetero-social boundaries, relations between men and women, girls and boys. Strategies for achieving sexual fulfillment in the face of restrictions on heterosexual relations.
National holidays and Anniversaries 5-20-50
The commotion in the streets
Young boys and men hanging out of cars—out of windows, sky roofs, waving flags, wearing Kuwaiti flag colored wigs and all manner of garb. Blasting music
The Kuwaiti youth (read: male) display their mobile phone numbers both large and small format on the back of their cars, encouraging young women to call them anonymously.
One of the many ways people get around the strict social mores.
Walking along one of the main streets, watching the cars and excited males drive by with Kuwaiti flags and sheiks and emir portraits plastered to their car windows and on car bodies…but also Saudi Arabian flags, a Lebanese flag, Qatari visitors and tourists from Dubai, all participating in a “people’s parade”—ie. a MASSIVE bumper to bumper traffic jam for hours starting from 3:30pm and going on until past the time I could see it (over 8 hours) and on onto the ring roads. A massive party indeed. Not the typical parade to be viewed, but to be a part of/to participate in and be part of the spectacle.
How impossible, it seemed (or so it actually is), to meet any of these guys or people. Social circles are tight/ tightly policed by everyone. Self-policing. I kept asking myself, where are the women?
Loud music and constant honking
Dumping of trash (plastic bottles, cans, paper) into the gutters by Filipina maids behind the SUV’s of their employers frantically trying to insert the trash through the grating in the street and watching the children while the parents amuse themselves with other things. Half of Kuwait seems to be Filipino—the service people of any restaurant, the maids and trainers, the airport personnel. Then, the workers who are on the lower levels: 3 out of 5 of the taxi drivers we had at random were Iranian. Then, the Bangladeshis, Indians, Pakistanis.
There would appear to be plenty of jobs that pay something for me to do here. I don’t feel like bringing myself out of “the West” right now. Although, I am tired of being understood in a certain way… But, I do not want to live somewhere where I cannot communicate with so much of the population.
Men in dishdashes look sexy to me…these long silouettes with the headdresses and the sandals, looking so damn relaxed and walking so slowly from the inhibiting range the clothing allows for the legs.
All the different signs that can be sent through cloth around the head. And the women are another topic. So many nakobs and women draped in back. What do you call it, exactly? Oppression? Protection? Submission?
And I propose a wet dishdash contest… I enjoyed objectifying the men here, exoticizing them. Who, after all, would have more power in whatever situation? A Kuwaiti man or an American white woman? Would money be the ruling factor? The strength of one’s country? Whose life is worth more?
The use of homosexual relations to get over the strict hetero-social boundaries, relations between men and women, girls and boys. Strategies for achieving sexual fulfillment in the face of restrictions on heterosexual relations.
Germany, Europe, the West, the Paradigm, the Clusterfuck
It takes a long, long time to get to know a place. So much dedication and persistence is required. Or it could take a short, short time, depending on the depth one requires to move around freely and with confidence. I am too observant and unsure sometimes.
I need to take stock of this life. I feel like the privilege to travel far requires some stocktaking and reevaluation of my life as I know it.
Germany is a dramatic place, and a solemn place. But, what we ever know of place is circumscribed by who it is we know well.
The perspective that seems to dominate those who can perpetuate a dominant discourse is that of democracy, capitalist free markets, social liberalism, and borders and self-determination of peoples. Certain peoples.
What was said so elegantly by me just know?
Our paradigm and knowledge of the world is a product of NOW, of situated knowledge, regardless of how far we have travelled. Learning another language, living abroad and being challenged emotionally and mentally are keys to understanding. Well, it’s the only thing a single person can do.
What I was trying to say is that our terms, in English, on CNN, on BBC are presented as part of an “international” discourse. It is my suspicion that these are discourses not participated in by many peoples, states and authorities. Gatekeeping is a great term for this exclusion and this rush to be part, to be included, to be seen as legitimate and being able to participate in the democracy discourse. But, when one is a member of the groups that struggle for legitimacy, to be included, supported, to be offered a place at the table, that is not an equal position, and, naturally, this eliminates whatever suggestions or ideas being proposed from those who are “given” legitimacy and “offered” a place.
I am not arguing that those “outside” this western discourse of democra-capitalism should be offered regardless of anything a place at the table, but merely want to point out this inherent inequality.
For those who talk about bringing democracy (the Bush years) to the Middle East or establishing women’s or workers’ rights in whichever third world country participate in this. Good intensions and not listening to “recipients” of democracy or liberal social reforms. No one knows if different forms /alternatives to these structures and ideologies would have formed without this dominant “international” discourse, but such is the story of history.
I need to take stock of this life. I feel like the privilege to travel far requires some stocktaking and reevaluation of my life as I know it.
Germany is a dramatic place, and a solemn place. But, what we ever know of place is circumscribed by who it is we know well.
The perspective that seems to dominate those who can perpetuate a dominant discourse is that of democracy, capitalist free markets, social liberalism, and borders and self-determination of peoples. Certain peoples.
What was said so elegantly by me just know?
Our paradigm and knowledge of the world is a product of NOW, of situated knowledge, regardless of how far we have travelled. Learning another language, living abroad and being challenged emotionally and mentally are keys to understanding. Well, it’s the only thing a single person can do.
What I was trying to say is that our terms, in English, on CNN, on BBC are presented as part of an “international” discourse. It is my suspicion that these are discourses not participated in by many peoples, states and authorities. Gatekeeping is a great term for this exclusion and this rush to be part, to be included, to be seen as legitimate and being able to participate in the democracy discourse. But, when one is a member of the groups that struggle for legitimacy, to be included, supported, to be offered a place at the table, that is not an equal position, and, naturally, this eliminates whatever suggestions or ideas being proposed from those who are “given” legitimacy and “offered” a place.
I am not arguing that those “outside” this western discourse of democra-capitalism should be offered regardless of anything a place at the table, but merely want to point out this inherent inequality.
For those who talk about bringing democracy (the Bush years) to the Middle East or establishing women’s or workers’ rights in whichever third world country participate in this. Good intensions and not listening to “recipients” of democracy or liberal social reforms. No one knows if different forms /alternatives to these structures and ideologies would have formed without this dominant “international” discourse, but such is the story of history.
06 June 2010
“Auseinandersetzung” my Performance from April
“Auseinandersetzung” Performance action description
The artist enters the performance space. She wears a costume of three levels of plastic tubing, connected with thin clear plastic string. Over the tubing and string, layers of gauze bandages have been sewn loosely. This costume is worn over a thin cotton sleeveless dress or slip. Around the artist’s mouth and lower part of the face, gauze is wrapped. Her arms can barely be seen inside the tube structure, which is knee-length.
The artist turns on music of Fairuz and, before the beamed projection of a Powerpoint presentation of her work and diaries, she begins to move in a very reluctant, but bouncy, manner. At the other end of the performance area sit four large sculptures depicting body parts- some easily deciphered (like a large yellow hand), another more ambiguous (a green nose shape or a truncated penis shape?) all brightly colored in an arrangement on the floor. The artist picks different body parts off the floor, dances with them or inspects them.
While this action is taking place, blood red color gradually appears on the gauze wrapped around the artist’s mouth and color comes out from inside the tube gauze structure around her body. Drops of it fall on the floor and on the sculptures as she begins to dance faster and with less reluctance, even twirling around.
When Fairuz’s song is over (ca. 3 minutes), the artist takes a microphone and sits in the first row with the audience, clears her throat, and starts the sequence of images from the Powerpoint presentation. The space is quiet as she clears her throat and readjusts herself. Images from artworks of the artist are projected on the white wall where she had previously been performing. People, selb-portraits, and images with only text alternate; like an introduction to her work and her experiences. The text is translated from the English into German, describing several experiences she had during her two years living in Shanghai. She reads aloud from the text slides in calm and controlled, yet anxious, voice.
As the last images are projected, the artist stands and walks to the CD player and begins playing Bai Kwong’s haunting remixed ballad __. The last slide is all red and the artist remains standing in front of the red surface, music playing, and her white gauze and cotton ensemble smeared and spotted with purple-ish red drops. She exits.
aus•ei•n•ạn•der•set•zen
I. (mit OBJ)
1. jmd. setzt jmdn. auseinander getrennt von einander setzen Die Lehrerin setzte die Schüler auseinander.
2. jmd. setzt jmdm. etwas Akk. auseinander darlegen, erklären jemandem seine Probleme auseinandersetzen
II. (mit SICH)
1. jmd. setzt sich auseinander sich auf verschiedene Plätze setzen Sie standen auf und setzten sich auseinander.
2. jmd. setzt sich mit etwas Dat. auseinander über etwas (intensiv) nachdenken, sich mit etwas beschäftigen Er hat sich mit dem gesamten Problem auseinandergesetzt.
3. jmd. setzt sich mit jmdm. auseinander sich mit jemandem streiten, diskutieren Wegen dieser Sachen setzt er sich regelmäßig mit seinem Nachbarn auseinander.
to throw one’s decorated body into the gears of a war machine
“…citizenship can entail more than production, consumption, or even voting—indeed this performance demonstrates that it can be fulfilling, empowering and even enjoyable to throw one’s decorated body into the gears of a war machine, to interrupt the hegemonologue of a corporation or regime...”
(Shepard, Bogad & Duncombe “Performing vs. the Insurmountable” 2008 paraphrasing Bogad, “Place,” 2005; “Upstaging,” 2007)
(Shepard, Bogad & Duncombe “Performing vs. the Insurmountable” 2008 paraphrasing Bogad, “Place,” 2005; “Upstaging,” 2007)
The inappropriate (mothers and fathers)
The inappropriate (mothers and fathers) What is their concentration?
I see parents in the park with their children. The fathers and mothers (or shall I just write men and women?); fathers in one area, mothers in another. Collective segregating..momentary but subconscious or not?
How much do they interact, if they do indeed interact? How is this seen from their perspectives?
What IS the idea of mother and father, when one actually becomes one? How does this get acted out for each individual trying to do the best…their best for them? The children?
What interests me more is the idea of attraction between/among mothers/fathers of different children. Is the erotic still there for many? How is erotic love seen and acted out? How does the child come or not come between adults and pleasure? How is desire for egoistic exhibition or lust hindered, encouraged, aggravated or deadened?
These boundaries are not so strong in my mind. Surely, they cannot be. Love for a child or love for a woman or man or erotic love for the friend or lust for the stranger… are there not elements of all of these feelings within each other? Can they possibly function together? (All the questions are for me or rhetorical.)
I see parents in the park with their children. The fathers and mothers (or shall I just write men and women?); fathers in one area, mothers in another. Collective segregating..momentary but subconscious or not?
How much do they interact, if they do indeed interact? How is this seen from their perspectives?
What IS the idea of mother and father, when one actually becomes one? How does this get acted out for each individual trying to do the best…their best for them? The children?
What interests me more is the idea of attraction between/among mothers/fathers of different children. Is the erotic still there for many? How is erotic love seen and acted out? How does the child come or not come between adults and pleasure? How is desire for egoistic exhibition or lust hindered, encouraged, aggravated or deadened?
These boundaries are not so strong in my mind. Surely, they cannot be. Love for a child or love for a woman or man or erotic love for the friend or lust for the stranger… are there not elements of all of these feelings within each other? Can they possibly function together? (All the questions are for me or rhetorical.)
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