It is okay to whine and complain, or the contraction “whinge,” it is not okay to attribute that choice to someone, or something else; not because it is forbidden in the holy scriptures, or that it indicates a character flaw - but because to attribute what you feel or do to anyone other than the seat of your own agency is not real; you are going to die - that is real. The paradox is that the more suffering of others that you can relieve between now and when you die - the happier you will be is more real. But how is this possible if you have absolutely no control over another human being? The Chinese artist Al Weiwei demonstrated this fact quite creatively when he so provoked the government of China as to force them to incarcerate him in such a way that he had absolutely no privacy at any time during an 81 day period - guards accompanied him to the toilet, to the shower to his sleep. Yet he presses on, as one can after such intrusion. He has not surrendered and though i do not follow his continuing exploits, i commend his gumption and valor. If i could figure out a way to provoke the fossil fuel/digital overlords to attempt anything remotely similar with my life, i would; not from solidarity with Al Weiwei’s form of dissidence but because at the end of that day of protest, China is a more monitored nation than anyplace on earth.
I fear that any commentary about that event, simply “normalizes” the intrusion of state into the lives of all, nor am i sure that my particular brand of crazy would be anymore effective in impeding the destruction of our world by greed - but i’d give it the good old “college try”. We human beings are so surrounded by luxuriant beauty and rich examples of a good life that it continues to astonish me that people would want anything more than waking up and opening their eyes and breathing. Pop lived the last 10 months of his live amped on opioids with a catheter stuck up his penis to piss into because he crushed the thigh knuckle of his right femur trotting for the toilet. It was a privilege and a hoot to spend copious hours attending to the wonder he still managed to hold for a world that was extraordinarily reduced from the days of his youth as a pilot flying B-17 bombers across the Mojave Desert, though never being forced to murder citizens for war. One example of the way he lived his life, during one of our afternoon conversations he confided out of the blue - “we were taxiing after landing and my wheel brakes failed - the bombardier in the nose was crushed to death, there was nothing i could do,” then he moved on . .. ··· after the divorce Ma, would ridicule pop for waking up at night screaming - as though that justified their separation.
They both did the very best they could with what they had, and i remember exactly when that lesson sunk in. I had been invited down to Anthony Amato’s farm in Vista, CA. He was a stone mason who reinvented himself as artist in the hotbed of creative life Southern California circa 1980’s. I was a wild card having attended the Laguna Beach School of Art previously having returned from NYC, hammer in hand and the catechism of Jose De Creeft’s advocacy of hand carving tattooed to the inside of my skull. Tony and i had an awkward relationship out of the gate, for by that time my studio hours were in the 1,000’s and his claim to fame was that Gloria Vanderbilt was his private student after 15 years of hanging curtain wall marble through the greater Los Angeles area - his favorite boast was “I’m a stone carving thoroughbred from 5 generations of stone cutters going all the way back to Italy.” - I loved Tony Amato, but he was never my master - back to the morning in Vista. I was an unpaid “intern” to him, while he set up his carving school in the hills of Vista - i was strong as a hemp rope and tireless; he knew this and needed my affirmation because he was also looking to dislodge the other sculpture teacher in the type of intrigue that can only found amongst the vain seeking immortality, Lewis Cohen who had been instrumental in securing 6 or so consecutive scholarships for me; i betrayed Lewis by throwing my support Tony’s way, and 30 years later Lew has still not forgiven me.
Tony was a wise guy in his own way, and i have no regrets for the years i spent carving granite under his guidance . . . back to the morning in question - 3 days, picking, digging, dragging and trenching, and i liked it. Tony was older by a decade and a “journeyman” mason - we were down on the southern slope and he was mocking my pace - “a dollar waiting on a dime” · while i was patiently trying to describe the complexities of having been raised by parents who had wanted to murder me, but wouldn’t own it. “Look Joseph, they did the best they could with what they had at the time, and your blaming them now is just bullshit and won’t change a thing.” There is no reply to clarity like that, and no matter how many times i might want to explain that hearing my mother tell the story over and over of walking in on pop in the bathroom in the middle of the night holding my squalling body and asking him “what are you doing¿” with his wry reply - “trying to figure out how to flush him down the toilet” wounded my soul in places that are difficult to recover from, but there is no one else that can stitch it up but myself - Mr. Amato never ascertained me a “journeyman” stone cutter · oh well . .. · · ·
Then there is that fucking paradox - in his last days with Pop savoring a lemon rind as though it was the finest liquor he had ever tasted, or turning to me after wiping his ass and telling me, “i’m not gonna forget this.” How does one reconcile the individual healing with the very real service that is available to every human on the planet witnessing suffering of any kind? I don’t know, that is a question. Buckminster Fuller said, “if you can’t solve a problem, enlarge it,” so i do, or try. We are a species on the brink of exterminating ourselves with nary a backward glance. Citizens of the once gr8 nation ‘merica are declining to wear masks for no better reason than vanity - to use the vernacular SMFH. The rest of the world is so far ahead in determining our species fate, i can only hope the corporate whores ruling DC (apologies to sexworkers worldwide) have not so antagonized the entire planet against a nation - for all my pointed criticism, i love dearly and hold in high esteem. Corporations are a worldwide menace and nothing about their rapacious behavior is unique to my country - it is this delusion that the world must face, there are no good guys, or bad guys; there is only “how can i help and what will it take for you to feel safe?” - everything else, as my father and Tony Amato might have said, is “bullshit.”
jts 19/05/2020
http://stoanartst.blogspot.com
reprinted with permission - all rights reserved
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