Who's got the Gaffer's Tape? Who's Got the Bananananana?

December 11, 2019

What is art??  

The Miami Art Basel has created an opportunity to have a discussion about art!  "Comedian"  by  Maurizio Cattelan is the issue:

https://www.miaminewtimes.com/arts/unpeeling-the-120000-banana-from-art-basel-miami-beach-2019-11327036 

(Buy a banana. Buy a roll of gaffer's tape. Tape the banana to a blank wall for an in person experience.)

 .....

On Facebook, where everyone has an opinion, I was pleasantly surprised to first learn from my friend, Pat Willson,  about "Comedian" a work by Italian artist, Maurizio Cattelan. The conceptual piece was taped to the wall of the Perrotin gallery space in Miami: Banana and duct tape. 

Read the excellent accounting by Miami freelance journalist Douglas Markowitz. (Please copy and paste the link above.)

Then, 

consider that the "Georgian-American Performance Artist"  David Datuna, walked into the Perrotin booth, wrote on the wall "Epstein did NOT commit suicide." and ate the banana! 

I've asked an obscure question on FB about Datuna regarding the eventual resurgence of the banana.  Having just screened Alejandro Jodorowsky's film "The Holy Mountain" and have known about "Artist's Shit" by Piero Manzoni., it seems that the cycle and recycle? of this piece may shine for a while and make folks outside the world of art, at least..  have an opinion.  

To me, there are two kinds of art: 

"Stroll by" Meaning that whatever "the art"  is.. in a gallery or museum or anywhere...  that if we pass on by, that's that! Kinkade!

And..  

"Thekindofart that engages us and stops us in our tracks".. 

This would be for me: Delatour's Joseph in the Carpenter Shop in the Louvre,  Van Gogh's The Mulberry Tree at the Norton Simon Museum in Pasadena, and Rauschenberg's Coca Cola Plan at MoCA. 

For a local Miami Hatian artist, Edouard Duval Carrié, it is beyond cruel for rich collectors to pay hundreds of thousands of dollars for a ridiculous duck taped banana when a tiny portion of the purchase price would fund his efforts to help other artists which would be productive and welcome.

https://abcnews.go.com/US/tale-art-basels-120k-banana-installation-festivals-influence/story?id=67629172 

(I don't know why those links don't highlight? Please copy and paste)

I tend to understand both the business of collecting by deep pockets collectors and the plight of Carrié.  

It's about percentages and desire to share.  Certainly, Carrié has the right to look askance at the temerity of a rich person to pass his work by. It seems unfair.  But, essentially, it comes down to what the rich person sees as valuable: to him/herself and/or to the art world in general.  A slap in the face to Haitian art? Yes. A way to see the deep pockets art world? Oh Yes! 

A woman on Facebook was incensed that anyone would pay $120,000.00 for a silly banana (and tape). She offered a "million dollar glass of lemonade" for sale in her rejection of the banana idea.  I was unsure if it was the glass that she wanted the million bucks for or for the lemonade?  I offered to negotiate to buy her offer and also offered to bring my own lemons. She has not responded, but I'd be willing to buy her glass, her lemonade or both if we can negotiate a price that is agreeable to me.  I can afford a dollar for a glass, filled with lemonade or not. Or, I'd bring my own glass and pay a dollar for the lemonade? OR..  I'd bring my lemons and my own glass and pay a dollar for her to make the lemonade while I watched.  

Is that art? 

It is to me.  The idea, the ingredients, the action and the product.  Even this description of the idea is art, to me, in that it's a plan to do or make something.  An idea. A Concept.

My dollar is probably in direct reference to the $120K that the two collectors eash paid for the banana and duct tape (I do prefer gaffer's tape, but what the heck?).. Percentage wise I can afford a buck. The rich collectors wealth is proportional to mine.

Finally.. Currently, on display at our local MoCA in Los Angeles is a favorite piece of mine by the NYC artist, Dove Bradshaw.  It consists of a piece of copper (a new piece each time the work is installed) that is placed in the museum at a specific height from the floor and then sprayed with a specific solution that causes the copper to react chemically, sending the resultant patina down the wall.  It's subtle and depending on how many times the piece is sprayed, the discoloration: a lovely blue green from the oxidizing copper, becomes, with the copper and the instructions:  'the art.' 

Concepts.  Every art work emerges from a concept: Andy Goldsworthy's outdoor installations using the rain?  Michael Heizer's Big Rock at LACMA? Christo's amazing wrappings? Ideas made manifest. 

My own personal contribution?  It's just for me, though I've 'installed' others:  Chayote.  See photos above.  It's art to me. And, to me most important thing about "Comedian" is that the attention it has garnered is drawing folks into the art world, who, under other circumstances might never have had an opinion or a say so! 

Michael Sheehan

December 12, 2019

 

The National Nightmare / September, 2019

Almost daily I get emails from our representative, Adam Schiff.  I'm a little upset with Adam for not allowing me to weigh in at a town hall type meeting he held at the LA Zoo a while back, but I'm over it... mostly... and as he is on 'point' for the ongoing exploration of what the 45th president is up to, I wrote this note to him today:

///

Dear Adam..

What if they gave a party and nobody came?

I read your daily missives.  That you exacerbate the crap that 45 spews out is exactly what 'they' want. Why not let Jimmy Kimmel make fun of 45 and YOU and the rest of us make for the High Road. Not to run away, but to just turn our backs, as we do with a persistent puppy who jumps up for attention?

What if a bully is ignored?

There's a story of an Indian chief who was a big, big bully.  He went around the teepees and kicked dogs and the children cowered and the other members of the tribe felt threatened daily.  He declared himself Chief Forever and strutted and bellowed and ruled with an iron fist.

 

The plains indians in this story were Nomads.. It's just a story after all.

 

One morning when  Big Chief Forever awakened in his teepee, he noticed that camp was... and I imagine this in the voice of Elmer Fudd... very, very quiet.. He got dressed and put on his fancy war bonnet and exited the teepee expecting breakfast.

The entire camp was gone. During the night, the rest of the tribe had moved on. Everyone was gone. There was a note stuck on the chief's tent flap that read,

"You can be chief all by yourself for as long as you want.  Good bye."

By no longer referring to 45 directly and allowing the procedure for impeachment to move forward and turning our collective backs to this guy and referring to his shenanigans only incidentally, it may change the 'tone' of the miasma of weariness that he's created. We may begin to climb that long ladder to the light again.  Gerald Ford, not the greatest non-elected President, said in 1974 "... our long national nightmare is over.." Do you recall the day that Nixon resigned? Did your heart leap? You were only a kid.  I hope that you were aware that the mess that followed Watergate was a 'nightmare?' I sat in front of the TV set and cheered.

The current national nightmare must end.  Eventually..  and, hopefully we won't awaken to a bigger mess. Let's just take a deep breath.  Let's behave with love and civility and as we might deal with a jumping up dog or a recalcitrant child tossing a hissy fit in the middle of the grocery store, turn our backs and slowly and surely move forward. 

Stop the drama.

Breathe and move forward in a sure and certain way that makes sense!

Please. 

GIRL ARMY MEN?

A recent National Public Radio share on Facebook got me bent out of shape.  

In a nutshell, a seven year old girl sent a hand written letter to someone, presumably the company that makes those cheap little green army men.  She wanted girl army men.. army girls. 

This set off a maelstrom in me about how boys, especially, are taught at an early age to play war.  I did it with pals.. clod fights.. of course, fighting indians and outlaws after an afternoon with Hoppy, Gene or Roy.. or my personal favorite cowboy: Bob Steele! We fought and took a bullet and died and recovered in play. I've even done that as an adult! Yee haw. Another story for another day. Foolish youth.

We almost killed Don Jones in a clod fight. I can still see the snot running out of his nose into the rich black earth where he was face down in the construction site.  We found some really good clods! Donnie lived, but there was a lesson there that we probably ignored. He's be in his eighties now, unless he went to war and died at 22.

The NPR story shared on FB  was lauded and defended by many 'patriotic' folks who thought that the idea of girl army men was a good thing.  The little girl's scrawling text was very sincere. Hand printed. The thoughtful responses to the wrongness of this notion were articulate and few.

The following diatribe is to a dear friend, an artist, documentary film maker, musician, actor who also works with returning veterans. To me this whole tempest will pass quickly and the little girl will probably get her army men girls.  That's a little sad.. but... Here are my last thoughts on this issue. Too long to post on FB and really only for friends who may understand.. and mourn for our society.

///

Well.. fucking shit.

We can only rise from fucking shit, eh?

What this story is about is a cute little hand written letter that caught the eye of NPR.. it's pure and simple exploitation of a kid.  Where did the kid get the idea to write the letter? From her own experience? From her parents? From feeling at the age of seven that she has been fucking deprived?

I'm angry about something totally not related, and you get the brunt of it.. as you are a dear pal.. I know you can take it.

Life is not fair.. AND.. I think that any ADULT of any persuasion.. or sex or semi sex or sexual orientation or such.. should join up and go and kill other folks all they like.

Our current war situation with the longest and to date most stupid war:  in Afghanistan.. is an opportunity...  and I, for one, would contribute to a fund to send this cute little moppet who wants girl soldiers to spend a week on whatever the fucking front lines are in Afghanistan, after having her head shaved and a week of basic training...  to go to the war and see if she still wants to play soldier.

I'm not going to convert military folks to the idea of peace.. It is not our way. We need to fight..  Your experience with the vets is admirable..  they need love and care more than any of us because they thought that they were doing a good thing by "fighting for their country" when.. in fact.. they had no idea what they were fighting for. 

There has not been a foreign war that we should have been in since WWII.  Period.

The thousands, if not millions of dead Americans in the wars since WWII were brainwashed to think that they were protecting the USA.. not a whit.. not a bit..

I only condemn what NPR did .. exploiting a kid with a cute letter that is not, to me..about women and their striving for equality, it's the misguided National Public Radio's decision to publicize this kid..and for her to get any sort of support or flack for the publicity.  It's a fucking shame.  To me, it's exploiting a little kid and her cute penmanship and a misguided notion about stupid toys.

If there are men and women plastic soldiers and wounded soldiers and dead soldiers and little caskets and body bags and reminders of the thousands of dead whom we may see each day in Westwood or Arlington or. Ypres or Verdun, to put this all into perspective.. then.. let's make those toys with detachable limbs and mutilated heads and stop glorifying the glamor of war and put it into perspective.  

 

There's a next docu for you!  All done with simulated Barbies and Ken dolls.. or their tiny plastic counterparts..  Animation with the dolls discussing how unfair it is that only men are depicted as little army Men.. and how girls / women should be depicted, too.  They should be brave and mutilated,  and.. dead... too... 

I saw a terrific video many years ago created on a very strange analog camcorder. The Fisher Price PXL 2000. It recorded on a 90 minute audio cassette! here's a link.. Pixelvision: How a Failed ‘80s Fisher-Price Toy Camera Became One of Auteurs’ Favorite ’90s Tools

The idea of using toys to tell a story. Oh wait.. Pixar has done that!!  Well..

I am exhausted and angry and I hope you have read this far to know that I am NOT Not. not angry with you.. I'm upset about a lot of things and I don't need to make you, personally.. wrong.. You are NOT wrong. but I believe sincerely, that the NPR exploitation is wrong and that's that.

Please consider a docu about this issue.. women's rights to die on the battlefield and the indoctrination of children with toys to think of military service as something they are destined to do.. 

 

Sadly.. I recall during the Korean war.. I was about thirteen.. I recall specifically ..

I recall the specific location..

A gray day in Colorado..

and I wondered to myself.. 

I recall this clearly..  

I wondered what MY war would be!? 

That is really sad.. that I had been so conditioned that I anticipated my own war.

 

love, michaelsheehan

When is a Coca Cola Bottle?

Many years ago, as the story goes.. and I think I saw the TVcommercial... the story goes that Andy Warhol, famous Pop Artist,  was hired by the Coca Cola Company to make a thirty second spot to promote Coke. Andy was seated on a bare set facing the camera.  He simply sat there..as he had many of his Factory pals and celebrities sit for video and for Polaroid photos he made.  For 28 seconds he sat and quietly observed the camera.  Then, Warhol held up a bottle of Coke and said, "Eat Coke!" 

This moment, to me, defines what the artist was really all about. Making something out of the obvious.  With style. 

Keith Stevenson and Derek Chariton Photos by Teak Piegdon-Brainin

Quite obvious with Dana Jackson's direction of Vince Melocchi's world premier play "Andy Warhol's Tomato" produced by the Pacific Resident Theatre, is that the playwright imagines that the somewhat tentative relationship Andy has with "Bones" the bar owner, Keith Stevenson,  over the course of a summer in Pittsburgh was a major influence on the super star that Warhol became.  It's a full length one act in a somewhat cinematic style, chronicling days that dropped a very unusual young man into the realm of a working class roughneck who may have some prejudices about other guys who are, like, you know: "Funny..."  (I'd hoped for a Joe Pecci moment here and it was not included. But still.) 

Stevenson falls into the Pittsburgh sound "wid aplumb."  He plays it natural and is at a loss with what to do with this young man who is in his basement just because it was convenient to where the kid fainted.

At rise, Rich Rose's spectacular set: summer 1946, a basement store room for Mario "Bones" Bonino's pub. We discover Derek Chariton as Andy, propped up in a chair, having fainted outside the bar.  Warhol was an unusual guy from the start: a child of immigrant parents with two older brothers.The family led a simple existence, with Andy's dad saving up to send the boy to Carnegie Tech.  What should be mentioned and isn't, is that Warhol suffered from a rare disease, St. Vitus Dance, which sometimes put him on the floor which is probably what happened in front of Bonino's bar.  The first and best joke in the show refers to Andy's pallor. 

Bonino:  You're white as a sheet!  

Warhol: I'm Slavik. 

The unlikely friendship turns on a straight man,  trying to figure out what this ghost of a kid is about. Chariton plays Warhol's homosexuality with such superficial indicating that it calls attention to itself. It is a distraction. Director Jackson has either led Andy's character down this primrose path on purpose, or Chariton  has opted for the obvious, even though Warhol's sexuality was probably much more complicated than obvious gestures and tone. 

The opening night audience was thrilled with the show and probably didn't notice that the prop Coke bottle that has factored prominently in Warhol's artwork over the years was much too new.  This nitpick is because I've had a lot of experience with old fashioned Coke bottles and allowed this mistake to take me out of the play a bit.  

The casting of Chariton, who is in his late twenties as the eighteen year old is another note that rankled me. The dialogue presents a very sophisticated kid but the actor's mannerisms and speech patterns seem much more mature than one would expect even from a prodigy. The story tells that after being ejected from school, a kindly professor recognizing Warhol's innate artistic talent gave him a summer drawing assignment that would eventually re-enstate him at Carnegie.  Andy had big plans to take his illustrating talent to the Big Apple after graduation and become a star.  

That happened!

The pace of the show lacked energy.  The divergent acting styles seem more about the acting than about the characters.  Had the casting gone another way, emphasizing the feeling of post war 1940s and the suspicions about Warhol's sexual orientation been made more subtle, giving the audience an opportunity to come to a conclusion on their own, this script might have been better served.   

A World Premiere

Andy Warhol's Tomato

by  Vince Melocchi

Pacific Resident Theatre

703 Venice Blvd.

Venice, CA 

Thursday through Saturday 8PM

Sundays at 3PM

Through September 22, 2019

 

POLITICS AND DEATH AND DEATH AND POLITICS

August 4, 2019

Give or take, thirty five funerals are being considered this morning. That's the second part of this post.  

I got a little carried away today with rhetoric in response to how the Democrats may be shooting themselves in their collective feet with the debates that seem to be about knocking one another off instead of pitching to their constituents how they might fix our country.  

So.. I wrote this today and have edited it and the only real suggestion for fixing anything is at the bottom of the page.   The death tolls from Gilroy, El Paso and Dayton may rise today. Who's next? Tomorrow? And, there will be a sad tomorrow, until this epidemic is addressed and we work to fix it. 

//

I've not had the heart to watch the debates. These politicians' snide remarks don't stab to the bone; they slice like a razor: opening up a wound that may never heal.

A Greeley friend asked whom I support (my pal, Tom Hayden was coiling for a debate)... and I said I'd vote for Al Franken. And, I would. Imagine an intelligent, effective, thoughtful and funny guy who would crash a press conference to pump up the volume and banter with those pesky reporters!

Sadly, we have a serious issue to face.

Good US citizens are rising. Our country is rising. Columbine, Sandy Hook, Las Vegas, Parkland,

Gilroy.. El Paso.. and.. this very morning, 8/4/19.. in Dayton, Ohio: the NY Times reports nine shooting deaths. Are we so inured to death? 

That's a troubling thought.

And, the sad answer may be yes.

Every report of a mass shooting (where more than three people die) emboldens another sick person with access to ammunition and a weapon to lock and load. Epidemic? This actually IS an epidemic of violence: it's a health issue.

Call the Center for Disease Control .

Call the director: 

Robert R. Redfield (404) 639-3311

Maybe better? Write a snail mail to him:

1600 Clifton Rd, Atlanta, GA 30333

Finding a cure to stem this tide of murder should be demanded by the White House. 

 And, by all of us. 

Michael Sheehan

What about Franken?

 This is a bit long. It may take a little while to read. Just my musings on the article I mention below.  

In this week's The New Yorker magazine (July 29, 2019), Jane Mayer has written a very lengthy discussion regardng the way that Al Franken was brought to heel in a questionable flurry of misguided #MeToo accusations .. specifically by a conservative radio personality, Leeann Tweeden. 

In thousands of words, Ms Mayer has pointed up that there is and has been a growing hysteria that fostered the #MeToo and all men now live under a cloud of suspicion for even looking at a woman and smiling. (Emmett Till's tragedy comes to mind.)  Hysteria is somewhat difficult to define, because sometimes there are actually issues to become hysterical about. Limbic reactions are out of our control. 

The current U.S. administration is an embarrassment and destructive to our democratic way of life.  Chicken Little may be right! Right or wrong, in one way or another, the Sky may be Falling!

As I read Mayer's article: to me an overlong 'apology' for Franken, it made me realize that in politics, the politician is doing many things at the same time: hopefully working to represent his/her constituants, hopefully being honest (as if any politician is ever totally honest) and surviving in the shark infested waters of doubt and derision.  One false move and you are toast. 

On the other hand, the regular person, the guy, the gal, the dad, the mom, the parent, the pal.. is pretty much free to just Be.

The times that the 45th president (sic) contributes to the instability of the world with his undocumented accusations and false analogies: hyperbole is swirling in such a way to suck anyone into a vortex of confusion and frustration. 

Last night I attended a wonderful exhibition of talent and culture.  A friend and her Significant Other have produced a documentary about an iconic performer from the 1960s.  The point is that on greeting this lovely woman, we hugged and kissed.  I genuinely love her. After reading Mayer's article, it dawned on me that because of the #MeToo thing, any man who embraces any woman may later be taken to task for the embrace. We live in hysterical times. 

As in the days of the Salem Witch Trials, the mores of those times, the hysteria that fed upon itself to the demise of innocent women; today, the feeling of being overwhelmed permeates not only the culture of the United States, but the entire first world.  We are bombarded by the news of horrible incidents of mass shootings, the Gilroy attack most recently. Our immediate access to information literally grabs our attention and whips it to some other tragedy or incident that supplants the one that just happened.  

The point is that we may be on the 'road to perdition' in a manner of speaking because the stress of all of this information slaps us silly from one emotionally upsetting event to another almost in an instant.  For those who find the actions of the current president of the United States abhorrent, this is stress that may be similar to being subjected to fingernails on a chalkboard intermittently with no understanding as to why it's so annoying along with the concurrent feeling that we are powerless to eliminate it.  Keep folks off balance and that will create an unstable situation where this 'hysteria' that I'm harping on.. is goaded along.

Because of our now instant communication with 

e-media broadcasting from smart phones immediately onto  the internet and picked up and forwarded willy nilly literally around the world, the paranoia of behaving like normal human beings.. spontaneously greeting someone and touching them or saying something that may be interpreted as untoward is now a real thing. 

I have a dear friend who is a "lips kisser."  It is her way and when coming or going, it's a peck. In our days of hysteria, if a man was a lips kisser.. innocuous and just his way, the standard would be in our days of hysteria.. (I use that word a lot to remind that it's the theme of this writing).. In our hysterical days.. the man could literally be charged with assault or worse..

To me, the only way to get Al Franken back on track, is for him to run again for his senate seat. And, to win.  The Democrats who banded together to dismiss him out of hand, with very little evidence except the questionable accusations of a handful of women, including Tweeden, some of whom have not even been named should come forward (as some do in Mayer's article) and rescue Franken.  Some of these Democrats, have now said that they may have rushed to judgement with the superficial 'evidence' and not allowing a proper hearing with the Ethics Committee to have taken place for Franken to respond to the accusations was wrong.  Presidential candidate Kirsten Gillibrand  stands by her condemnation of Franken.  That says something about her.. to me.

Mayer's New Yorker article examines many sides of what Franken now says that he regrets: simply stepping down.  It was like an admission of guilt with no due process.  Her article attempts to be fair with some staffers critical of Franken's way of expressing himself.  He made a living as a comedy writer and performer for goodness sakes. Some of that broad exhibition of life doesn't come to an abrupt stop just because one becomes a US Senator.   It may not be an excuse, but the analogy that I've come up with is that Franken may have jaywalked and his penalty is life in prison.  That is wrong and completely unfair.. It is wrong. 

Why did it happen? Hysteria. #MeToo..hysteria and even an hysterical response from Franken himself.

Did Franken do it for the Democrats? Probably. Also, the way the whole thing was exposed by Tweeden, his supposed victim, (former Fredrick's of Hollywood lingerie model) from KABC AM conservative talk radio.. totally blindsided him. The article exposes the self serving and blatant untruths that Tweeden claimed regarding the 2006 USO tour that she did with Franken, doing skits that were almost identical to ones he had written and done with other women celebrities in the former trips he took to entertain US Troops abroad.  Lies and half truths won the day for Tweeden. The Democrats took the bait and down went the senator, good works and all.

The great shame in all of this is that Al Franken is a brilliant guy.  In his decision to 'do the right thing' he may have done more of a disservice to our country than anyone could imagine. The hysteria that permeates the world at this very moment, exacerbated by the paranoia of mass shootings and a loose cannon in the White House, the damning information from the Mueller Report, now old news as just a few days past... The hysteria that foments in us even if we are not even aware of the issues that are ... right this minute...  volcanoes  of dread.. ready to erupt to further question our own personal morality and our moral state as citizens of the USA.. formerly the good guys who told the truth, stood for Justice and The American Way.. We are now complicit in the detention of innocent immigrants, separation of families seeking asylum .. and the relentless blather from the highest office in the land that reads like a C Minus eighth grade essay.. Make no mistake, that pain in your neck.. the tension you feel when you see folks behaving as if they are entitled to more than you are is because of instant communication and missed interpretations of what might be innocent acts AND.. and.. our loss of decency as a thing to admire and aspire to: the tension permeating the very room where I sit is because I know that things might get worse before they get better.. if they ever get better..  

And!! My printer is broken so I can't even print this out and send it to my old Colorado pal who, in his politics,  is to the right of Attila, The Hun... because though he reads and believes the Drudge Report on line, can't manage to maintain an email account. 

Michael Sheehan

ROBIN WILLIAMS HAS COME AND GONE

When I initially began this writing..  I really don't like to call this a blog, though that's just what it is.. This writing..  it was to put to voice whatever thoughts came along, at first inspired by seeing clouds after the death of a friend whose graveside service I'd attended near Long Beach. The clouds were those big cumulus bumpers in a blue like.. blue blue sky.. like the sky is supposed to be.. well. except at night.. But along the way, this site became a place where I'd air some ideas beyond the clouds.. 

'Both Sides Now?'  Did you know that Joni Mitchell's song came from her reading a book on an airplane, looking out the window..  on the way to or from a gig..or was it just a trip? Saul Bellow's 1959 "Henderson,  The Rain King" has the line somewhere in it.  I don't recall the story enough to try to explain. The serendipity of one thought leading to another is what this is about.  How we all piggy back our own idea onto someone else's..  That's the essence of improv: "Yes... and..."

I've just watched the last part of a PBS special about Robin Williams.  

http://www.pbs.org/specials/pbs-remembers-robin-williams/

That's supposed to highlight so that you can click on it to connect? Hmm.. well.. just copy and paste if you like.. 

Many of you reading this knew Robin.  I only met him one time and it was unforgettable.  An actress by the name of Dee Marcus.. a round and happy little lady founded "Off the Wall" that was at once an improv class/group/looping group. They met in a space just north of Santa Monica on Fairfax.  Funky and casual.  I was invited one night to attend and who should show up but Robin Williams.  He was humble and funny and treated everyone in the assembled group as a peer.  That was important to me, though I'd had some success, Robin and his untamed censor was a star.. He did a short improv ..  a character.. Blind Lemon Yellow? Does that ring a bell?  He and his gang.. I've forgotten whom he came with.. were in and out.. just a flash of genius.

Today I am in a reflective mood for other reasons. Embarrassed myself by calling an old girlfriend who was surprised to hear from me. Started writing a funky memoir of sorts, which led me to calling this woman who's made a name for herself in Chicago. Short uncomfortable chat. Just spontaneous..a thank you to her, of sorts...  for being an important moment in my life.  A link that led to other steps that I've taken in the past many years. Not with her. 

I  sat in front of the TV coming down from the odd phone call and there was a tribute to Robin. The only time I met him, I was surprised that he and I were about the same height and build.  He had seemed larger than life, starting on Laugh In when I'd first seen him on TV in the Sixties.  The tribute includes some of his work.. Good Will Hunting.. The Dead Poets' Society, Awakenings. Director Penny Marshall talks about a gesture that she'd give Robin when working with DeNiro!  Balls!  She tells it and then Robin tells it. Voices from the grave.

The PBS tribute to Robin pointed up his ups and downs.. his extraordinary talent.. and at last his depression.  

Mindy.. Pam Dauber faces the camera and quietly asks, "Why?... Why?"  

Having had an emotional morning..and now, it's almost three in the afternoon.. seeing this tribute and knowing that Robin is gone now five years.. and how his pals in their special recollections of how we need him now.. and on Facebook how friends seem to need to demean this awful president of the usa...

 we weather through.. 

I watched the special with an eye to emotion and feelings; Tears. And, how deep feelings can serve us.  Finding a way to harness the good stuff and put bad stuff into perspective is a goal. 

It's all fodder for something that I probably can't or won't put a name to.  Had Robin Williams lived..he'd find a silly/important way to put it all into perspective. Most folks I know get hung up on anger and name calling.  I won't do that. 

Long posts on Facebook are usually a bit outre and a bit boring.  So.. if this is that for those who have clicked through, it's not my intention.  I am currently 'in trouble' with a dear friend who, thanks to imperfect email and a bad phone call punishes me by not responding.  "There's nothing to talk about."  Getting over anger is a lesson I learned a long time ago ..taught by the best friend anyone could ever have.. a person who personifies love. I'm grateful for her.

Over a year ago, a misunderstanding and stupidity on my part lost me a friend I'd had for more than thirty years! She was bright and a beauty and funny and smart.. An Artist. 

Not a romance, but what felt like a true friend.  As we allow social media and texts and tweets to fill in for real communication, we withdraw from personal contact.  A pal of mine predicts that movie theaters will be a thing of the past in the future. (he also predicted the demise of Yahoo, so that's not a prediction I see coming).. It's troubling because we need human contact. Kids are no longer on the phone to friends and family, they are texting..or maybe even voice to texting?  We become less human. 

Hearing a former lover's voice on the phone.. she did not sound as I remembered.. was a human moment.  I am not sorry to have made the call. 

Seeing Robin Williams doing his stand up.. acting in one film or another in a clip.. or entertaining the troops in Afghanistan.. showed what human contact is about.  In Good Will Hunting, he's a shrink who has moments that are chilling.  In Dead Poets'..  his character is kicked out of his classroom and his students stand on their desks.. as he changes from Mrs. Doubtfire to his alternate ego and Henry Winkler expounds on the talent of the man playing a scene with himself.. all of this brings us to the loss of a extraordinary talent.. and our times.  

Which brings me to the middle of July in the twentyfirst century. A warm day in Glendale. Mixed feelings about the morning and the motivation for the call and the serendipity of seeing Robin Williams on TV.. to the rest of the day.. an empty Friday with art ideas needing fixing or leaving alone? Missing the SAGAFTRA Film Society and missing the social aspect of standing in a line with friendly faces.. the middle of July.. and a warm day.. and next steps? 

What's next? Next steps? 

michaelsheehan

July 19, 2019