missing

Yesterday I left in a hurry without writing about the previous day's happenings, and today I find myself wondering what was missed. The day was mostly spent with my sister and niece, running errands, eating at a Brazilian restaurant (pretty yummy, over ate for sure), driving around Dallas, etc. Once back at my sister's place I played with my niece (though I think I took a short nap). We usually play hide and seek, and my niece usually makes a sound so I can find her easily... at one point I was in a closet for close to ten minutes before she found me, I guess it was too good of a hiding place. We later switched to hiding toys and having the other find it, and my niece, when it was her turn to look, always asked me "where is it?" and I am not sure what she was after, but maybe for her playing together was more fun than playing that particular game.

A neighbor dropped her 2 year old with my sister, a cute boy that looks like he should be in a Diaper or Formula commercial, big blue eyes and all, and it was interesting to see the dynamics in the house change. My niece got jealous when I played with the kid (I felt as if we had a baby duck or some unusual pet in the house, it was fascinating), my sister got stressed out and a bit confused, and I eventually realized that kids r probably not for me, even though they r so cute, but specially when they cannot yet speak a word. Baby James was walking and wanted to climb everywhere, so every few minutes we all did something else, we'd hear some sort f crashing sound, a bit of a cry, and by the time we got there he was fine again. My sister said she was happy to have just one kid, instead of more, like she originally wanted. That whole situation made me think of how parents and kids together create the atmosphere of a house house, and how my sister's family is so different from my other sister's, and how theirs were so different from ours when we were growing up. My niece came into the room while i was Facebooking and asked me what i was doing, i told her i was reading because the day before I tried to explain to her what a Wall was and all about virtual friends and she had a total WTF look on her face, though she liked seeing her picture up and all the comments. She told me she thought it was best if I only read at home, and not while I was visiting them. She also asked me if I'd be driving back through Dallas to see them again on my way back home and when I told her I did not know (now it seems unlikely as another road trip is being planned with a buddy), she told me we should then Skype every Saturday and Sunday (mind you she's four). When I left this morning she gave me such a string hug it broke my heart, and she did shed one tear in my presence, though I could tell she was holding back. <3 her. At times I think that I might be missing out on something great by not having kids, but then I remind myself that I should first try to commit to a cat.

I left as early as possible, and it seemed that it took me forever to get out of Dallas, more than it took me to get to Wichita Falls, the first main road marker (until Amarillo). The first three hours went by fast and far, but after the first pee break things slowed down a bit. The part of Texas I was driving through is extremely open and flat, plane and plain. At times I could see beauty in it but I got extremely sleepy as well. The salvation were the small towns where by law one had to slow down from 75 to 35 or 45 in a matter of minutes. Like many people, I both fear and romanticize Texas, and to keep one a bay I focused on the other. Every little town looked so depressed and minimal, I could not even imagine living or growing up in such a place (reminded me a bit of the small towns in Southern Illinois but with less charm from their part, less nostalgia from mine, or both). But I tried to look at them as pieces of Americana that have not been ripped yet and put up for sale at antique shops.

One thing this leg of the trip made me realize is how different the US is from my perception. Blame it in Hannah Barbera and Hollywood, but I really thought it would be me and god in this vast, open land. In 2012 I find America pretty filled up, or at least this part of America. The landscape was pretty disappointing as well, not what I expected, no terracota mesas and hanging cliffs with pre-Colombian towns carved out f stone, but instead lots of land with grass and trees, almost lush at times.

I managed to get to Amarillo with 3/4 of my tank, around 1 pm (left a bit before 8 am), stopped at a gas station that was reasonably priced ($3.45/gallon), went to the bathroom and bought a chicken salad sandwich that proved to be a mistake later that day, even though it tasted fresh. The attendant had a lovely accent but was so rude at the same time, I felt like I was on one of those Pace Picante Salsa commercials. She looked like the love child of Tammy Faye and Kate Gossling, or whatever that woman with the asymmetrical hair is called. I was gonna ask her about my intended target but decided to just leave. Amarillo is another sprawling urban area, with zero appeal and personality from the highway perspective (much like Tulsa). From memory I remembered that the Cadillac Ranch was on the way out of town, so I just kept driving. By the time I got out of town I thought for sure I was in the wrong highway, so I called my sister, but her answering machine picked up, so as I was leaving a message about not finding it, I saw it, on the opposite side of the road. The whole time I was assuming this was a major attraction and that many signs would be available, for tourists and such. As I drove I spoke to the recorder "oh I see it, gotta go". The way it is located, it was virtually impossible to get to it unless I tracked back miles and miles. There were obviously no U turns on the highway and no bridges to cross over, but even if they were there, there was no easy access to the service road. So I made my peace, blew a kiss its way and sent my love to the Ant Farm boys, here and gone. From the brief sight it looked smaller in person than on TV, as most things do. But lined up in front of it were tons of people taking pictures, and that made me happy. A wise friend once told me that art was only relevant if it crossed over into popular culture. I always struggle with this concept because I think it is not always true an that there is something extremely important, at times, in being irrelevant - or at least existing in a sphere that is outside of what is fashionable. In whatever case, I find that the Cadillac Ranch has actually crossed over into the vernacular, which is more lasting than the popular and even art, but which is harder to distinguish from.

Soon after that I was out of Texas and into New Mexico. The landscape changed a bit, the flatness slowly gave away to some undulation, like the water in the ocean before a wave is formed, but unfortunately it never crested, it never seemed monumental at all. Again I had in mind this Road Runner scenario that never materialized, so maybe it does not exist or I am just in the wrong part of the country. I had to stop for another pee break (those diet cokes just run through you) and this time the place was completely scary, as there were no major travel plazas, but this inky dinky off the road one man stop, where I almost peed myself before I got out of the car. The gas pump was analogue and one had to pay inside, and I truly saw myself being killed by the biker guy who was hitch-hiking, but like so many situations in life I am certain that the fear was mutual (I'm sure they thought I was from LA, I get a lot of that in this part of the country).

It was only when I took the road to Santa Fe, a tiny road with NOTHING around that the landscape became more interesting, and I began to see the local architecture, first in hilltop mansions, and later in smaller subdivisions. Again, I surely thought they did this for tourists, because while they look cool everything looks so confined. I imagine they r cool inside, temperature wise. My mind went back to my childhood once more, and I remembered my Indians and Cowboys Playmobile set, which I intermixed with the Hospital set. By the time I drove into Santa Fe proper the architecture was borderline insane, as everything was built in that style, even the Target and the Starbucks, everything beige and brown (really missing my color pencils now). I truly felt like I entered a New Mexican Bizarro World, everything looked to simulated, so forced, it was strange. Found my hotel easily, also brown, and checked in, and felt ill, from the drive and the crap food I ate. Order a take out food from a recommended restaurant nearby, when I got there the restaurant was closed, locked, no signs of life, then drove around, got lost, and found another restaurant, where they recommended I ordered the burger, "the best in town" but I ordered some tacos, which were tasty. Watched Netflix until the wee hours, even later because of yet another time change, and slept like a baby.

Right now I am waiting to hear from the residency folks so that I can check in, but I think they missed all the emails I've sent in the past three days. They must be in New Mexico time, whatever that is. I am tired of being a tourist, I want to get into my studio, my comfort zone and see these next thirty days fly by.





PS: the word adoration in two languages from two different sources have entered my life in the last 12 hours... not sure what to make of it yet..

- posted via iPad

Location:Santa Fe, New Mexico

legacy

I cannot stop thinking about my parents, especially my father. Yesterday was their 45th anniversary, a fact, my mother told me, she had completely forgotten about until she heard my voice message in the answering machine. My father had an eventful day, which in turn made my mother's day eventful as well, and not necessarily in a good way. The anger I sometimes feel towards him, which has been mostly in the last ten years - as I feel that the father I thought I had has become someone else - has changed over to sadness, as I feel that whatever father I may have, may not be around for very long.

Time passes and what we do and who we are, if we are lucky, will remain being our years. Thinking like this makes me consider every action I take, however small, and how I can be a better person - not always easy as I am extremely flawed.
Yesterday was a family day. My sister and I went to the Dallas's Arboretum and Botanical Gardens with my niece, a place to walk around beautiful gardens, step on grass barefoot, and not think about much more. For the first time event my niece had her face painted, she chose a pink butterfly, and she was so cute and well-mannered which the artist applied the paint with a sponge and brush (she closed her eyes and did not move one bit). At four years of age, if that was even popular, I'd probably kick and scream, or better, run away and hide.

The Texan Spring, which felt more like a Michigan heat wave (mid 90s, I guess), was overwhelming, so we tried to take walks in the shade to take advantage of the slight breeze in the air. The park was filled with large scale hand-blown glass sculpture, very colorful and gaudy, but it brought some color to a scenery which will sure be soon Summer, without the color of flowers, only the parched brown and light green of grasses.

[in retrospect, I noticed some tumble weed on the road in Oklahoma the whole time I drove through it, one piece was even stuck on my car's grill]

To flee the intense heat (we had a late start, got there past noon), we decided to take a 30 minute air conditioned tour of the DeGolyer house. This family built this beautiful hacienda style home for their retirement, in 66 acres of land, in the 1940s. In so many ways it reminded me of the Dodge mansion (which is much grander than this one), on the campus of Oakland University, because it started as a private residency and ended up as an endowment to the public. It is nice when people of means manage to provide to their families during their lifetime and beyond, but set up a system so that the community and country while allowed them to flourish also benefit from it. While I imagine this family, like the Dodge's, and mine, have had their share of skeletons in their closets, it is nice that something nice and beautiful has prevailed today. I hope the same happens to mine.

We ended up eating lunch in the restaurant that uses the DeGolyer's kitchen and family room, a pleasant experience, and then went to a place called The Village (I think) to have some gelato, which was divine. People watching in Texas is always prime, and that location did not disappoint (I wonder when they will begin taping The Real Housewives there). We returned to my sister's home, talked to my parents on the phone, and watched some videos of my niece. I spent some time drawing with her, making me wish I had packed my color pencils for the residency, had dinner (nothing better than a home-cooked meal cooked by someone else), played a couple rounds of Uno, then I read the longest story book for my niece (which my sister later told me I had not to finish in one sitting, only seven pages were needed - I read the whole thing, took over an hour). By the time my niece went to bed it was almost 10 pm. Watched TV for a bit and headed to bed early as well.

Today is my last day here, a short visit I hope will leave good memories. Tomorrow morning I drive to New Mexico, still not sure where I will spend the night. Any suggestions?




- posted via iPad

Location:Dallas, Texas

do not drive into smoke

Somehow I managed to leave Saint Louis by 7:45 am yesterday. After fueling Fiona (10 gallons for about $32 - Missouri has the cheapest gas) and getting semi-lost in a weird area in town, I found my way down to I-55 and then I-44 on the way to Tulsa (about 350 miles), the midpoint on my trip. It's funny how two people told me that it would take me a long time to get to Dallas, like 18 hours, while the GPS said 10.5. I secretly hoped it was the shortest one.

Not much to report on the drive through Missouri, it was peaceful and uneventful. This state was way more beautiful than I remembered (drove through it once on the way to a visiting artist gig in Lawrence, KS, back in 2003). Even though sometimes I pronounce it's name to rhyme with misery, it was anything but. I loved the hills and turns of the road, and the vegetation was so lush at times it was breathtaking. I really wish I could download the images my eyes saw, but I'll carry them on with me for as long as my brain works.

One aspect of driving alone was having great thinking time. I'm using this time to chart out my next six weeks and my next six months, running all different scenarios and outcomes, and then putting those thoughts away and reminding myself to stay open to the unexpected, which happened in a rest area, where I saw two guys holding hands out in the open. It just goes to show (me) that anything can happen, anywhere... of course for all I know they were lynched soon after I got into my car, but I sure hope it did not happen.

The US scares me a little. Actually the world scares me, or hatred scares me, and at times I see it everywhere I go. At times sadness, in the face of hatred, overtakes my fear, but I am not sure that is any better of a feeling to have. I feel very foreign when I am alone, and specially in places I have never been. I've always been this way, and I always try to break through the fear by putting myself in situations where it is tested (hence his trip). I've been very fortunate, blessed, lucky, you name it, as I have put myself in stupid situations and tried to believe that the kindness of others would somehow protect me. So a small part of me fears too that I might run out of luck.

But what I saw on the road yesterday were just people going about their lives. I actually saw so many weird groups of people (like one car with three older people, at least two sleeping, the person in the backseat with an umbrella open), all trying to go somewhere and being on their own, just like me. I also noticed that America is not this vast, unexplored land I sometimes imagine in my head (but of course, I've never driven through Montana or the Dakotas). The longest strips of land with nothing around only came about when I passed Tulsa, in Oklahoma, another beautifully lush countryside. What I noticed was how windy both states were. My little car always swerves on windy days in Michigan, but I thought that having it packed with stuff would make it more stable, but then I realized that the winds down there we just stronger (driving through Joplin and stopping to get more gas, at $3.29, and seeing everything brand new helped me with that realization). I really stopped there more so because I needed to pee, so I filled the half tank just to do something. I actually arrived in Dallas with a half tank full still, which baffles me. This trip is turning out to be very affordable, specially because I have been staying with friends and family.

One surprise in Oklahoma was the speed limit of 75 (making this state more than OK with me), and the good signage about the distances between exits (even though the roads themselves had no mile marks and exits no numbers). I drove down on US 75, which was at times US 69 and Indian trail, and again, it all went smoothly. Had a late lunch somewhere in the Creek Nation area, where this white girl, seeing me walk out of a Burger King, pulled up her car, rolled down her window, and asked me with I wanted some free cologne samples. After watching a marathon of season one of Weeds I immediately thought she either wanted to sell me drugs, sex, or both. Often times I think of myself as the minority flavor of the month club, where I can become whatever groups is most prominently underrepresented or non-white, sometimes with the added quality of being "tall" or "thin" for that said group (probably because I was once told in Austin TX that I looked like a tall Mexican, and because everywhere I have gone abroad I have been told I look like people from a certain area other than where I am). So I figured she thought I was Native American (to paraphrase Jerri Blank, with a knack for gambling and catching STDs), so I just smiled and said no, thanks, and got into my car.

One other random happenstance in OK was the repeated signs posted every few miles saying "do not drive into smoke" which to this day I have no idea why they'd have to put such signs. Maybe someone drove through smoke while getting burned while drinking their hot coffee, and sued? Or maybe (here u can see the influence of Sunday morning cartoons), the natives still use smoke signals for communication, and driving into smoke will interrupt transmission? I immediately thought that I should sign up for smoke signal classes in New Mexico, if they offer them, and give a break to ASL for a bit. or maybe I could create a typewriter that would create little puffs of purified smoke instead of text on a page. I then realized I did not have the skills to create such a machine.

Then I finally hit Texas, and coincidentally shortly thereafter saw a Confederate flag. a few minutes later, on my last hour of driving, I found myself facing a dead end my GPS guided me to, and was glad I still had a tank almost full. Backtracked to the main highway and decided to continue there until I saw the city skyline (and almost killed the machine voice with her robotic "recalculating" repetitions). I arrived at my sister's house in a lovely neighborhood in Dallas (not sure the name, but Turtle Creek), and was glad to see familiar faces. Everyone looks great, my niece has grown so much since last summer, completely bilingual at age 4, my sister beautiful as usual, my brother in law getting in total shape to run a full marathon in the fall. I was half-brained by then, and had enough energy to go out for dinner for yummy tex-mex (a place called Mia's) and was in bed by 9:30 pm, but not before making my niece cry (thus having caused by now the same reaction with all nephews and nieces) because I did not want her to sleep in the futon with me. I think she forgave me when I offered to sleep in her converted crib, she called me silly and laughed.

Woke up around 3:30 am and have not been able to sleep. Took my medication and realized I've been taking the wrong dosage because I forgot to take the weekend measure, which is higher than the weekdays. Hoping I'll sleep longer tomorrow or that a nap manifests itself today somehow. Have no idea what this day will bring, but that is the whole point, no?






- posted via iPad

Location:Dallas, Texas

spending time

As time has gone by I moved, lived, and met people all over the place. Grew up in São Paulo (living in different cities in the state and different neighborhoods in the city), was an exchange student in Florida (where years later I returned to go to grad school), went to college in Georgia, and tried life out in New York, Maine and Texas, before settling into a college teaching career, which brought me to a four-year stint in Carbondale, IL, and seven-year (and counting) stay in the Detroit-metro area. I have also been fortunate to travel around the US and the world for professional reasons.

Web 2.0 has allowed me to connect with old friends and keep in touch with new found ones. It pains me not to be able to spend as much time with any given person as I wish I could, and for practical reasons the people that live around you get more of your time.

The year of 2012 is a year of change and renewal for me. In many ways it is way more transforming that the mythological year 2000 (perhaps the Mayans seem more impressive than the Jetsons or ones and zeros). This year also coincides with my first ever sabbatical, a much needed break for me. So have I have put to the test my commitment to being an artist and my art, and in this sense I feel that this preview to teaching retirement and art practice full time has been a personal success. I'm so happy to what's to come in the next 20 years or so (or sooner if I can swing it).

Another aspect has been how I decide to spend time, or better yet, with whom I decide to spend my time. I have been making concerted efforts to visit important people in my life whom I have not seen in a long time (and know that if money was not an issue, there would be many more trips). Last March I visited Valerie in E San Francisco Bay area, which was a wonderful experience (she is truly like a sister to me). This quick weekend in STL was spent with Matt, whom I had not seen since 2009. Matt was a student at SIU (not my student though), and I was a young professor (28 or 29), and the first time we met, we went for a walk around campus, and talked about random stuff. To paraphrase him, he knew we were sisters from that first encounter.

So yesterday, as the proposal and purpose for this blog states (in my head, a daily description of events), Matt and I did all kinds of things that to the outside eye may seem mundane and even boring, but which to me sums perfectly the depth and comfort of our friendship. We do our thing and it only makes sense to us. I could describe our visit to the farmers market, eating talking Mexican shrimps with Dan (great to see u Danneta), watching a Loretta Lynn biopic starring Sissie Spacek (where she sang most songs herself), walking Patty (Matt's daughter/dog), and all the weird and silent and comfortable moments that only we could experience together. If you were there you might not have gotten it either. So I'll just sum it up to saying that I spent the day with my good friend Matt, and I already miss him in my life.

Today I will drive towards my sister's home in Dallas. It will be the longest drive, and I hope to get there today, but might stay somewhere halfway if I get too tired.

Of to take a shower now!




- posted via iPad

Location:Saint Louis, MO

and so it begins...

In June 2010 I completed an artist residency in La Plata, Argentina. During my time there I wrote extensive daily notes on Facebook, which I hope to convert into a self published illustrated book sometime between now and the end of the year.

Almost two years later I find myself driving from the Detroit-metro in Michigan to Santa Fé in New Mexico. Yesterday was the first day of my journey. My goal with this new blog is to delineate my experiences, which will include a mix of random ramblings about art and life, as well as some observations I may encounter. Images will be added later.

The trip began at 8:00 am EST, when I picked up my friend Jay, from his home. He was on his way to the IML conference (pleas look it up) in Chicago for the Memorial weekend and offered to drive. Of course I could not say no :-)

Jay also offered to fill up my tank of gas (thank u friend!), and even though the car was packed to the brim, Fiona (my car) did really well - had to refill once more, but so far less than $50 on fuel. Jay also brought us some green apples, but even so around 10:30 we stopped for breakfast, a Bob Evans, which for me was a first, I believe. Much cleaner look that Crackerbarrel, the entire staff in this location (Middle-of-Nowhere, MI) seemed gay and very chatty, the coffee was tasty and they have breakfast options with calorie count. I ended up having the turkey sausage breakfast for about 340 calories and even ate only one out of two dry multigrain toasts.

We continued our journey. It was nice spending this road time with Jay, as this was our first driving trip together. We even talked about doing a West Coast trip next summer - fly to Seattle, rent a car and take two weeks to get to L. A. or San Diego. This was a good thing, as I've been very apprehensive about this whole trip. I've never done this much driving alone, and I think this might actually be the biggest learning experience for this trip, this sort of facing a fear type of moment.

When we got to Chicago we pulled up on Cermac in Chinatown and got some Dim Sum for lunch. Jay had an extensive knowledge of Asian cuisine, so he helped ordering a bunch of yummy stuff (5 total that we shared). The place was packed with children touring the area, but eventually they left and we had a nice, quiet lunch. One thing that became apparent to me is how much I like to be silent on the road. Jay at one point asked me if I was bored. As a child, we always traveled during Summer and Winter vacations, and many times we did it by car. I always loved sitting at the window and look at cars and specially trucks. Truck drivers were always fascinating to me, they always seemed like beings from another planet, hermits and foragers, always scary, and of course because of that I could never stop staring. I also remember that sometimes inside the car I would select a pose, any normal seating pose, nothing extravagant, and not move (with the exception of breathing) for as long as I could. Sometimes it would take more than 15 minutes for anyone to notice. I think it simultaneously annoyed and freaked my family out, just. bit. "Vagner is not moving again" someone would say, while someone else would poke me. I guess this was my way of trying to tune out the whole family, the whole experience of being and living as a collective being, and not as an individual. Even on a trip I wanted to escape.

I had to explain this, in a much more abbreviated way, to my friend, that I was not bored, but that on the road I like to let my mind wonder, which is of course much easier when someone else is driving.

Jay took the Red Line to meet his friend he's staying with while I took on the road. intense traffic out of Chicago, which set back my trip about 20 minutes - by then it was almost 2:00 pm CST, and the gps predicted I'd get to my final destination for the day at a little after six, though it was just past 6:30 pm when I arrived at Matt's.

It was difficult to let my mind wonder because all of a sudden I got very sleepy, even though we did not eat much. I think the heat was partially to blame. I turned on the AC, opened my Coke Zero and tuned in some Madge. Instead of being silent I sang my way to Saint Louis, the last our with my dear Ru. That whole leg of the trip was a negotiation between caffeine, having to pee, and trying to decide if I had enough gas. Three bottles, three pee stops, and having the yellow light come on two blocks from my friend's house was what it took.

It was great... no, it was wonderful seeing Matt in person again, it'd been three years since last time. His lovely smiley face, a blue iced cocktail in hand, and the doors to his lovely house open, it felt like coming home. I met Patty, his adorable pooch, toured the house, saw the vacuum cleaner room (he collects them, I'd say about 40 in that room alone, and many parts throughout the house - I spotted a sombrero, three different nosels, and a dildo in one closet, for example). He mixed me a drink, we went to the basement for smokes, and we talked like we had not seen each other in three days, not three years. 2012 has become the year I reconnect with dear friends, this being the third encounter so far - I feel blessed.

After eleven hours on the road I was sweaty and starving, so I cleaned up and changed, so we could go out for drinks. My new glasses have been bothering my head, one side is digging into my head it left a dent, so I tried to change to contacts, and realized I brought the wrong boxes, so I'm stuck with the hungry frames eating the side of my head :-(

Matt took me to Clementine's on the Soullard area of Saint Louis, a lovely neighborhood and a very low key bar with good ol' customers. Everyone seemed to know everyone, and I definitely looked like I was an out of tower (how interesting that can be). I secretly hoped everyone was walking home that night. We met Matt's friend Derek (I think that's his name), a sweet guy who has a vacuum cleaner repair shop in South County (I think this is how they call the area right outside the city), and Derek was being attacked by this anesthesiologist with a food fetish (don't ask)... I was surprised the guy was even standing, so to get rid of him we told him we'd go to a restaurant and meet there, and went to another instead. Works every time.

Had great pizza, even though it took forever. Our waitress was this adorable teenager red-haired, the curly type with low cut shorts, a bad tattoo, and a1920s voice. Her name is Mary and she made me think of my bestie Fortuna (miss u girl!). Totally over ate, no calories counted, and eventually we went home, with a pit stop at a couple drag bars (both dead as it was around 10 still)... Matt and I decided that wearing a wig with no other preparation (no shaving, no make up, regular outfits) is totally the way life should be lived. Eventually we left and Matt displayed one of his many talents on the way home, his great lip sync skills. To finish the night off we watched (I dozed and watched) three episodes of Sordid Lives the Series, and eventually crawled to bed.

As usual I woke up at 3:30 and had the hardest time sleeping. I turned on the fan, put on my mask, and eventually fell asleep until six. Took my medication and slept for 45 more minutes and had a disturbing dream about an iPhone sextape. It is 8:04 am now, Patty is awake (already jumped in my bed twice, so cute), not sure where Matt is (this house is so big he could be anywhere) or what the day will bring!

Tomorrow I head towards Dallas, not sure if in one or two days yet!





- posted via iPad

Location:St Louis,United States