Saturday, October 19, 2013

Expecting To Fly-16


There’s been a lot going on this year. One of the most interesting events for me was the fact that Cornell University in Ithaca, New York, took interest in my artistic work in the areas of visual art and literature. Being a member of the Royal Chicano Air Force since 1973 (RCAF-a renowned artist collective based in Sacramento, California) further peeked their attention. As an artist that navigates three disciplines, the scope and depth of Cornell’s interest in my work was important to me on several levels. 

 Professor Ella Díaz, Cornell University and artist in lab coat, Lorraine García-Nakata 2013

In the Spring of this year, I was contacted by Professor Ella Díaz, with Department of Literature at Cornell University. Professor Díaz informed me of an exhibit she was curating and asked if I would agree to lend for this exhibit two specific larges scale drawings of mine, a diptych entitled “Facio Nova Omnia: Indigena/Colonial” and "Facio Nova Omnia: Indigena." 

 Son, Kanichi García-Nakata assisting installation of "Facio Nova Omnia" diptych, Photo: 2013

As the exhibition curator of “If Gender Is A Kind Of Doing,” Professor Díaz focused on exploration of the female form and only included the work seven female artists: Regina José Galindo Lorraine García-Nakata, Deborah Roberts, Rye Purvis, Laura lucía Sanz, Ana Teresa Fernández, and Elizabeth "oscar" Maynard. Unlike large group exhibitions that establish a broad theme and involve many artists, Professor Díaz explored our work in more depth and in relation to the curatorial theme she had established. I particularly appreciated her astute curatorial statement that was grounded in areas of her research. This is often absent in many exhibit curatorial statements. So, I agreed to lend these pieces.

Artists included: Regina José Galindo, Lorraine García-Nakata, Deborah Roberts, Rye Purvis, Laura Lucía Sanz, Ana Teresa Fernandez, Elizabeth "Oscar" Maynard April 9-May, 2013 Mission Cultural Center Galleries, 2868 Mission Street, San Francisco, California

Exhibiting artists: Elizabeth Oscar Maynard, Lorraine García-Nakata, Deborah Roberts, Ana Teresa Fernandez, (Not Pictured): Rye Purvis, Laura Lucía Sanz, Regina José Galindo. (Artwork of Lorraine García-Nakata in photo)-Lorraine García-Nakata Photo Album 2013

Later in the year, Professor Díaz decided to initiate a Cornell University Graduate Seminar solely dedicated to studying my work, both literary and visual art. In just a few weeks, this graduate session will result in nine separate academic research papers that have been authored by participating Cornell graduate students. To support their research, I committed a significant amount of time this summer compiling materials on my work and forwarding this information to Professor Díaz for reference (images, descriptions, writings, and other reference materials). Soon I’ll begin to see their writings and I’m excited by the prospect. It isn’t often that an artist’s work is explored within an academic setting and with this depth.

Recently, I received Professor Díaz’s own writing about my work. In this writing, Professor Díaz reviewed the various artistic stages and related series that I’ve created from the early period of 1970’s through 2005. In a note to Ella I shared that it was remarkable to finally have someone really see, experience, capture, and communicate important aspects of my work. I know the subject of academic writing may seem dry, but to an artist, to me, it’s an important moment.

Specifically, the graduate research papers will be published electronically as part of an upcoming on-line solo exhibition entitled “Lorraine García-Nakata: Navigating By Hand” and organized by Betsy Miller Andersen, Director with the Museo Eduardo Carrillo. This exhibit was organized in collaboration with Cornell University and will include examples of my work, a curatorial statement authored by Professor Díaz, and will also offer a link to the Cornell graduate research papers. I’m thrilled that these papers have been written and that they will be available for public view. Along with Professor Díaz's Curatorial Statement for the "Navigating By Hand" exhibit, the additional research papers will provide an interesting lens upon which to view, digest, and experience my work over time.

My next post will provide a link to this solo exhibition "Lorraine García-Nakata: Navigating By Hand." For now, I share two excerpts from the curatorial statement written by Cornell University Professor Ella Díaz:

Having addressed childhood, adolescent rites of passage, familial lines of descent, and the socio-historical diaspora, Lorraine’s artwork also engages the spiritual realm and her faith and hope in it, despite the unexplained and unknown factors of the afterlife."

“An introspective body of work on the components of identity that comprise one’s world and make it worth living, “Navigating By Hand” offers viewers the story of Lorraine García-Nakata. And if viewers look closely and deeply, they will also find pieces of their own life stories reflected back”

Will chat with you again soon,

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Copyright ©2013 Lorraine García-Nakata protected under U.S. and International Law. No part of this site maybe reproduced, altered, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise), without prior written permission of the copyright owner and artist, Lorraine García-Nakata/Lorraine García. This includes all rights now in existence or which may hereafter come into existence, including but not limited to authorship, documentation, lectures, or any other creation or presentation by Lorraine García-Nakata/Lorraine García in any artistic medium, print, audio, electronic, video, CD ROM, photographic, digital, film, and any other medium.

Tuesday, November 27, 2012

Expecting To Fly-15

I had to think a long while before writing this entry and why it's been a while since chatting with you. It wasn’t for lack of what to say, it was how to share observations about the annoying rhetoric we’ve all witnessed, especially during the recent election, touching on issues of gender, race, and class. There’s been a lot of really ignorant stuff thrown out into the public arena, and while that's not new to our national forum, the level of escalation became hard to bear. I’ve concluded that it’s an “interesting” moment in time we’re living. That’s the nicest thing I can say about it.

As I swam along with others in our national petri dish, there were moments I was stunned and repulsed at the level to which public interaction had sunk. It became a troubling contest of immoral athleticism. It’s as if some sketchy permission had been given to act out behavior and language mirroring disturbing earlier periods of our American history. It’s been a long time, decades, since I’d witnessed such malformed and purposefully hateful assertions directed at targeted populations. When humans behave badly or make ignorant comments and claims, I’d learned, that because you pick your battles, often there’s no point in trying to make sense out of their non-sense. But, when it’s particularly ill and regularly overt, it’s hard to let it slime by.

Initially annoyed and disconcerted, I then found myself intrigued and curious about the phenomena of extreme ignorance and how it partners with denial. There are so many recent examples to point to of overt bigotry, gender phobia, and attempts to bifurcate economic classes in this country. Too many to note here. If folks only knew how much they reveal their own insecurity and impotence as they expel this retro-hater waste. It can be witnessed as some folks of non-color call for an all white leadership in the "White" House and phrasing it in language I will not mirror, or the race-baiting of immigrants through false economic windows, and all the anti gay and female gender phobic assertions. It's been a very thick and sticky layer of smelly stuff adhering to the national note board.

With that foaming-at-the-mouth-hater rhetoric playing as back ground music, I also found it curious how some folks of color forwarded badly scripted formula emails that in some cases were fundamentally in conflict with and in denial of their own culture and immediate family history. I usually just roll my eyes when receiving this type of correspondence, but what stood out for me was receiving an email chastising illegal immigrants. While I have a very different view of immigration than that of anti-immigration folks, the stance itself is not my point here. My point is that it was profoundly curious and odd that some folks of color, professing anti illegal immigration chatter, somehow in their minds magically divorced themselves from the fact that one or more of their parents entered the country with an illegally purchased last name and papers. As these confused folks of color regurgitated angry anti immigration words and phrases given to them, it took all I had to keep myself from replying to their emails or Facebook posts reminding them of their own family beginnings.

These are some examples, among many, of the “magical thinking" delusional reality that's been witnessed. It is clearly ample and fertile ground for studies on "curious" human behavior and how easily folks can be manipulated. I hope several young researchers will run with it and compile revealing studies about this point in time. As a result, the whole paisley mess could become very interesting.

However, before arriving at this level of curiosity about humans and their actions, I was very troubled by the level to which our national “discourse” had degenerated. As you know by now, I often turn to drawing, music, or writing to work through challenging life experiences and to arrive at a useful perspective that pushes along my own personal or creative growth. In this case, I was moved to write a protest song. I know, it sounds corny and that's how I initially felt about it. But one morning, as the sun slid sideways across my desk, I began writing old school, pen on paper. In a very short time, this protest lyric spilled out, but I was surprised by the outcome. I’d expected to write an energetic, somewhat in-your-face lyric, but instead the message was steady, purposeful, and resigned.

The lyric I wrote, in response to the helter skelter public dynamic I just discussed, is entitled, We The People. I wrote it without over thinking it. What came forward began with the “voice” of our First People (that also includes ancient Indigenous Pre-Conquest/Méxican cultures whose empires resided in large sectors now occupied by the U.S.). Not everyone came to this land by choice, so it was important to also acknowledge the people who were "stolen" and forced into slavery. We The People also acknowledges the many others who came to this land "hoping for more."

Probably the most important message is shared in the second verse of the lyric:

I may not look like you, at all
I may not think like you
Or even like you
But, we the people
Was what was agreed
Words written, in blood            Copyright ©2012 Lorraine García-Nakata

So, in effect, I’m saying that we need to get over ourselves and remember the premise upon which our country was founded. It doesn’t belong to any one faction, gender, culture, or economic class.

Once the basic lyric was scribed, it was introduced to a guitar line I’d been fooling with for a while. Working them together, it seemed to be a good marriage. Singing it for the first time, I was startled by the emotion that welled up for me. I could barely sing it without my voice cracking. It was then that I knew, that as a woman of color, who’d seen some of the worst the 1950’s represented, then experiencing important human rights changes initiated in the 1960’s, and now witnessing attempts to roll much of that back, well, it was clear just how troubling things had become and how it had all unsettled me. This next part of the lyric is also important:

I dream, just like you
I build this “house,” just like you
I have family, just like you          Copyright ©2012 Lorraine García-Nakata

Recorded in October, it seemed important to share with you what prompted the song's inception as I also share this newly created work of mine. Also, since last chatting with you, my original music was launched on Bandcamp, a site designated for independent musicians. I was nervous about putting my work out there, but now appreciate having a place that hosts my original music, protects copyright, and also offers a professional platform to promote and sell it. I want to thank my friend and great bassist, Alphonza Kee who really liked this song and pushed me toward pragmatic actions in order to make it public and protect it. Again, special thanks to my other great bassist friend, Jim Kerwin, for drafting the music chart of this tune. I also want to thank my son Kanichi García-Nakata for helping identify the launch site. I especially extend great appreciation to my colleague and dear dear friend Lee Parvin who continues to record my work and who had a musical conversation with me, via his piano, now captured in this recording of We The People.

Let me know what you think. It’s definitely a new venture for me so feel free to share this site with friends and colleagues. Here is the link to We The People and other songs currently on my Bandcamp site:

I’ll close with an observation. What has become apparent to me, is that our country is in its puberty phase. It’s that phase where one can dislike their own face, hair, parents and long list of self-critical items humans navigate on the road to accepting and ultimately embracing who they are. From this vantage point, all the reactionary, angst-driven, and even hateful rhetoric many of us have and continue to witness, is no surprise. It's the cry-baby, I don't want to grow up phase. Yet, as with puberty, self-acceptance is necessary to reach maturity. It can't be skipped. Clearly our country is having trouble facing and accepting its own cultural reflection in the national mirror. However, that reflection can’t be denied if we are to reach our full potential. I remain hopeful that our country will realize that what some currently perceive as a liability, is in fact our country's greatest national and international asset.

I’ll envision a country, a world, and its "people" raising the bar on human potential rather than attempting to assert control. Artists tend to push back on overly controlling frameworks, and why, writing a song pointing to basic human tenets, was important, to me.

I’ll leave you with that for now and envision a more creative and inspired flight.


web site:

Copyright ©2010 Lorraine García-Nakata protected under U.S. and International Law. No part of this site maybe reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise), without prior written permission of the copyright owner and artist, Lorraine García-Nakata/Lorraine García. This includes all rights now in existence or which may hereafter come into existence, including but not limited to authorship, documentation, lectures, or any other creation or presentation by Lorraine García-Nakata/Lorraine García in any artistic medium, print, audio, electronic, video, CD ROM, photographic, digital, film, and any other medium.

Wednesday, July 4, 2012

Expecting To Fly-14

Lorraine Channeling "Smithers"
At three years old and several years following, my son Kanichi, now 21 years, would agree to go to bed at night if I made up a story on the spot. Tucked next to me, lights out, and my daughter Monica also joining us, I'd say, "Ok, give me two facts." Informing the story were facts he provided such as: name, gender, location, circumstance, or anything else he wanted to drive the improvised tale. I never taped them, but each time I finished, his eyes now closed and Monica not far behind, I'd think, "Hmm, that was pretty good." I guess I should have taped them, but I didn't. The story arch was always compressed and drove itself. I'd open my brain and just follow where the character(s) or plot felt like going. It's a similar process and territory I enter when I draw/sketch images or play the guitar sometimes creating a new piece of music.

Recently the name "Smithers" stuck in the front of my brain and hung there insisting on attention. It came forward after writing my recent edgy post about imaginary companies and their services. I first heard the name "Smithers" as a child, when I was busy navigating the 1950's. That was a trip in itself. I always liked that nerdy, quirky name. For me, the "Smithers" persona is intelligent, understated, a bit recluse, and most definitely underestimated. A complex person however, Smithers has the personal power to pull you, unknowingly, into his world or to his view of things. Smithers operates much like an event horizon (the last port of call before matter gets yanked into a black or white hole). Smithers is also the name of a town in British Columbia located on highway 16 in Northern BC. I wonder if the people are decently nerdy there? If so, I should make a point to visit. Smithers is also part of a responsible sounding business: Smithers Quality Assessments, a quality and environmental management systems registrar. You get my point.

The "Smithers" piece, I share below, was intended to be an expansion of the imaginary business name, description, and tag lines I created for my last blog post called "iKeep." Here it is as a reference and refresher:

 iKeep: When you can’t trust yourself to protect important things.

People vary in their ability to control urges. They gamble, drink, cheat, steal, insider trade or “appropriate” museum relics that really belong to another country. The list is long and crosses all sectors of society. You know who you are, and in some cases, so does the FBI. Denial is a daily structure you afford yourself when in fact it’s weight-bearing capacity will fail during the inevitable inspection. iKeep will store and lock away items that legitimately and ethically belong to you so that you can’t borrow money against them. iKeep will also help you identify items that you cannot be sure were ever really yours. Know what’s yours and protect them from your vices. Return what’s not yours without doing time.
Trust us to make you honest. Give it up, get, or get out of the country!

However, the Smithers character, that had been hounding me, and that I share in the following short story, decided it would follow a very different angle.This is what was was birthed as I again opened my brain, invited my heart to come along, and let the typing begin:

Author, Lorraine García-Nakata, June 2012 
Copyright ©2012

The name Smithers brings to mind trust. Smithers can be trusted to see that lint on your coat will never see the front door, shirts will be perfectly starched, pressed, and laid out for you on time, and that the stack of coins you leave on your chest of drawers will be organized in order of their value.

Brought up recognizing the invisible but clearly marked line between him and the gentleman he serves, Smithers is never summoned by his first name. As the headmaster’s butler, he prefers it that way. “Smithers!,” the Master of the house calls out. It is a house of few words, and Smithers is the most regularly used proper noun. In fact, Smithers would cringe at the thought of serving wealthy, “new money” Americans. They would disconcert Smithers. In his well-oiled mind, he knows they would likely address him on a first name basis to offset their silent conflict regarding how they came to have their fortune. Smithers believes a first name summand would diminish his worth and station. He’s old school this way. Formality to Smithers equals respect. Informality to Smithers is chaos. Smithers does not like chaos.

Not a tall man, Smithers stands perfectly erect, which gives him the appearance of additional inches. He believes swallowing is greatly aided the straighter the line is from his throat to stomach. He’s probably right. This upright posture also helps to avoid wrinkles in his own white starched cotton shirt that he smoothes flat before his outer black jacket is layered on top.

With great care Smithers notes detail both at home and during weekly excursions into a life that’s just his own. Sidewalks and doorways are a particular fetish. As Smithers walks down neighborhood streets, and to other parts of the city, he notes what dwells in cement sidewalk cracks. Items, both new and old, are wedged there. Besides small pebbles that have a way of rolling in, Smithers observes lost earrings, tiny precious stones, and residual droppings peculiar to Spring, Summer, Fall, and Winter seasons. A man not inclined to bend or stoop unless absolutely necessary, Smithers never retrieves these items. Instead, he derives pleasure from recording them in a mental archive that spans forty-three years. In this way, it’s not surprising that the names Smithers and the Smithsonian are similar.

Slowing his walk, Smithers also scans doorways. They tell a particular story about its residents. Wide windowless heavy doors, painted black or stained dark with highly polished brass fittings indicate formality. A large brass knocker, stationed higher than usual, is used only by someone who’s received a clear invitation to visit. Recessed wood stained doors of standard width, set within a graceful arch, indicate residents whose hearts intend to beat warm. They invite, but also enjoy unexpected visits from sweet friends. Doors painted red, attempt to be auspicious, maybe because their former financial luck lost its luster. Doorways whose fittings are not snug and with paint chipped here and there, suggest a much older resident that has long since lost interest in unnecessary expenditure or first impressions. Doorways laced with iron bars are clearly fearful and attract few warm-hearted and lively personalities.

There are several doorway entrances to the Master’s house where Smithers resides. He is one of three servants to the Family. As the headmaster’s butler, the maid and cook look to him for direction. Smithers visits the front door of this home only when opening and welcoming invited guests or colleagues. The service entrance is where he enters. This intentionally well-manicured single door is recessed and well positioned to one side of the two-story brick building. French doors to the rear of the house, announce a small but expertly crafted garden. Here the sun finds poppies, many small well-placed shrubs, and white lilies that prefer the softly lit corners. When the Family is not resting there, those serving the house can also enjoy this space during off duty periods.

The life Smithers leads, at least the life most people see, is well-ordered. But, Smithers is a complex human. To every expected downbeat tick of his watch, there are equally regular, counter ticks. In the spaces occupied by these counter ticks, Smithers dreams, desires, imagines, and even wrestles with all the order he has created. The counter ticks of his pocket watch pay close attention to and attempt to sync with the natural rhythm of his heart. His heart is very aware of the list of dreams and desires. Smithers thinks of his heart as a muscle that pumps blood and keeps him alive. His heart thinks otherwise. As his heart pulls and pushes vital red liquid through Smithers, it considers the best way to send him a message.

Each morning Smithers wakes before the sun emerges. No need for an alarm since he has long since counted on an internal cue. At exactly five a.m., his eyes open. He rests for a moment working to remember the progression of events experienced in his sometimes very active dreams. In one reoccurring dream, he often flies without aid of a plane. Because Smithers considers himself a pragmatic, scientific man, these dreams puzzle him. They puzzle him greatly.

Days pass, weeks pass, months and years pass. Smithers moves through his finely tuned life in the service of others. He has trained himself to find comfort in knowing what each day will bring. Smithers knows his private room is exactly one hundred square feet, that there are twenty-three stairs between servants residence and that of the main floor, and that with seven white shirts, one will always be starched and ready to wear. Smithers is deliberate and considers the economy of both words and motion as he performs his clearly defined duties. Smithers, believes that he’s content and has all that he needs.

As the chill of winter acquiesces to the hopeful warmth of Spring, Smithers takes note of a troubling item about himself.  Smithers sometimes buys two items when his Master only required one. This is a recent development that even Smithers does not fully understand. In fact, initially upon review of his own accounting, Smithers identified these anomalies. The duplicate items ordered were modest and not readily noticed such as extra bars of finely milled soap or a coat brush with hand carved walnut handle. As Smithers noted these duplicate orders, his senses recalled the sensation he’d feel when opening the individually wrapped soap bars and inhaling the light spice of their scent as he’d place them carefully in the Master’s bathroom. Also, his thumb and forefinger slid across each other as he considered the perfectly crafted walnut handle and how it fit his hand as he’d whisk the finest of sable hairs across his Master’s collar.

It was later the first evening of this discovery, as Smithers finished his duties for the day, that he entered his modest room, removing his jacket and placing it in its proper local. Pulling open the top draw of his dresser, his fingers unexpectedly meet the texture of tissue. “What?” is the only word that escapes from his now-tensed mouth. A closer inspection, his hand discovers a tissue wrapped soap bar and also the smooth hairs of a sable-haird coat brush. At first Smithers is confused. Very confused. Now holding the coat brush in his right hand and soap bar in his left, Smithers steps back and sits on the edge of his bed. He pauses there for a long time. As his watch ticks, Smithers begins to recall, as if recalling a fleeting dream, his own pen in hand adding extra items to his monthly supply orders. As Smithers sits and remembers, he is disconcerted about three things. First, that the orders were made by him, and only him, secondly that he’d taken the items to his room, and lastly, that he’d entirely misplaced the memory of these acts. The later troubled Smithers the most because he normally remembers, everything.

Placing the items down, Smithers stands and walks to a modest sized mirror that finds home over his dresser. He studies himself, looks into his own eyes and asks, “Who are you?” And as if speaking to a stranger, separate from himself, he asks, “How can I not know all that you do? What is happening?” Smithers continues to stand there for a long time. An exceedingly long time.

As the days, weeks, months pass, Smithers continues to find items in his room. At first distressed, he is now accustomed to these discoveries as well as their record in his accounting. No matter how hard Smithers works to be more alert to avoid repeat of this recent quirk, duplicate items continue to be ordered and appear in his quarters. Initially, Smithers tries making sure he sleeps longer, he also walks outside often to breathe in fresh air, and asks for his tea to steep longer. But, the small duplicate orders keep appearing and soon he realizes this new part of him is just that, a part of him. What else can he do? If he can’t change this pattern, he  must manage it. Yes, manage it. Clearly, sharing this tick with his Master would result in his dismissal. After twenty years of service, this will not do. As long as the items remain small, and Smithers continues to place them in a storeroom, he believes it can be explained if, and when, discovered. Normally trustworthy, Smithers has no experience operating in a secret fashion. Also, not prone to denial, Smithers knows that one day he will definitely be discovered. Yes, most definitely.

Spring blooms, then summer stretches through. It's mid morning, and as the leaves on the trees give up their hold and fall, the maid drops a dinning room crystal candle stick holder as she works diligently to remove a spot of wax. “Oh, oh no,” she releases a hushed exclamation. Knowing the cook’s heart beats warm, she gathers up the two crystal pieces in her polishing rag and makes her way to the kitchen. Entering the brightly lit and aromatic room, she doesn’t have to speak before the cook can see what has happened.

Placing her spoon down on a central wooden counter and walking over to the young maid, the cook soothes, “Now, now, luckily those are not the finest pieces. It’s not the first time they’ve been broken. Because of that, I believe we have extras somewhere.”

Inhaling again, the young maid places the broken candlestick on a nearby counter and followes the amply-shaped cook through a rarely used walkway, toward a rarely visited storeroom. Smithers took her there once when another candlestick met a similar fate. The cook knows it will be easy to locate the extra candlestick holder because she recalls that this small storeroom only hosts a few items. Flour still on her hands, the cook’s right hand works the sliding door latch, then pulls the painted wooden door open in one quick motion. Wedging herself into the narrow door opening, she stops abruptly and blinks twice. She scans the five tiers of pantry-like shelving from left to right. The cook is speechless. The cook is never speechless. The maid waiting just behind her and observing the change in the cook’s expression, raises herself up onto her toes in order to peek over the cook’s shoulder. “What..?” was both beginning and close of her comment.

“Lord in heaven!” the cook finally comments. “What, on earth, is all this?”

In this moment, as another leaf on a nearby tree drops, the house ever so slightly shivers on its foundation. Smithers, sitting at his work desk, in his tiny office, on the same floor, raises his head. He isn’t sure what he just felt, but both the tick of his pocket watch and his heart seem to pound more loudly than normal. Placing his pen at a diagonal onto his pad of paper, he leans back, his spine still straight. Suspended there, he knows his orderly world, the one he’s known for over twenty years of service, is about to shift off its axis. All he can think of is a phrase in a Lewis Carroll book he’d read many years before, “The time has come, the Walrus said, to speak of many things.” As the words repeat in his head, Smithers feels a strange combination of both dread and relief. 

Now, in the orderly and clearly defined life of Smithers and the man he serves, there are no middle areas, no gray hues. The lights go on, the lights go off, doors are opened, doors are closed, there’s the upstairs and the down, servants are trustworthy or they are not. Words from the head of the house are not, “Oh dear Smithers, I know this is not you. Though I am disappointed, I believe we can look ahead to making things as they were.” No, in this house, this time, this situation, there is no training, no precedent for breathy forgiveness. No training on this line at all and why choices, decisions, consequence now lurk and insert themselves.

Time could be spent sharing what you already know. The cook immediately waddles down another hall to report the contents of the store room to Smithers. Not being a liar, Smithers cannot explain the many duplicate items in the store room. Being the head servant, Smithers reports himself to the gentleman he serves. While the Master’s breathing is temporarily stalled, he straightens in his evening jacket. Looking at Smithers, he begins to relay, with an economy of words appropriate to his station, “Smithers...” But, Smithers interrupts, the only time he has ever interrupted his Master, and relieves him of what he knows his Master must say. Standing erect, Smithers states, “Sir, I will be on my way mid morning tomorrow.”

The next morning arrives. Smithers has packed twenty years of belongings into a suitcase and one shoulder bag without need of any items he duplicate ordered and squirreled away. Luckily Smithers also stored away his modest salary and can now count on this for an extended period. For the first time in many years, Smithers is not at all clear as to where he will go or what he will do. But, as the bright morning light and crisp air brush his heavy wool coat, felt hat, gloved hands, and not yet mid life face, Smithers feels unusually light on his feet. No longer noting lost items in sidewalk crevices or considering the relationship of doorways to the lives of others, Smithers walks looking directly ahead. And in the spaces of living, that dream and hover in the counter beats of his heart and pocket watch, who by the way are now close friends, Smithers finds a new pace and walks, deliberate, toward a yet unknown terrain. Smithers knows he will be fine. He is, after all, Smithers.  

I’ll leave you with that for now,

Lorraine: Here my heart & "pocketwatch"
beats unite!

web site:

Copyright ©2010 Lorraine García-Nakata protected under U.S. and International Law. No part of this site maybe reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise), without prior written permission of the copyright owner and artist, Lorraine García-Nakata/Lorraine García. This includes all rights now in existence or which may hereafter come into existence, including but not limited to authorship, documentation, lectures, or any other creation or presentation by Lorraine García-Nakata/Lorraine García in any artistic medium, print, audio, electronic, video, CD ROM, photographic, digital, film, and any other medium.

Thursday, June 21, 2012

Expecting To Fly-13

My New Water Specks

Water and creative process are both fluid. As an artist that “navigates between three artistic disciplines” I’ve also taken up swimming laps. Well, actually I’m pushing myself to finally stroke properly so I can eventually do laps, many of them. I guess that has some relationship to navigating. I never really learned to swim on the water's surface on my belly. Instead, I'd flip over on my back. Yet, I loved holding my breath and diving into the deep end of the pool or quiet ponds. Right now my water surface swimming form is pitiful, but just the same I rose at 4:30 this morning and headed to my local 24 Hour Fitness, that stopped being open 24 hours years ago. I figured if I got there when it opened at 5:00 a.m. that I’d get the pool pretty much to myself. This way if I exhibited questionable swimming form or now and then gasped loudly for air, I could do it in the privacy of my own panicked world without good swimmers rolling their goggle-covered eyes. I figured wrong.

The sun not yet around the bend and a sliver of a moon stationed above, I arrived to see one other person already there and waiting in the car. The still empty Ingleside K-line tram sped by, cutting between my view of the gym and where I also sat inside my VW Bug. It was chilly at that time of the morning. As the last minutes ticked toward opening I jumped out of the car and headed toward the still locked front door. Men and women, who had migrated there, stood acknowledging each other as if they’d been coming to this gym for some time. I received a warm, who’s-this-new-early-bird, greeting. Doors opening, folks clipped toward their respective gym areas and I was swept along not having yet figured out why the hurry. Entering the women’s dressing area, it didn’t take long to rip off my outerwear and slap on my white Speedo skullcap and blue tinted goggles. However, as I entered the pool area, I realized I'd taken just long enough to discover the four lap lanes were already taken. I learned later that these folks come every morning. So much for peace, quiet, and avoidance of embarrassing moments on my part.

Geared up, I walked over to the hot tub located to one side of the pool and dipped my legs to keep warm. Standing, my brain played back last night’s viewing of instructional swimming Youtube videos. I revisited the need to keep the head down in the water so your butt lifts and stays close to the surface, breathing out air at that time, and only slightly tilting the head to grab a breath in the natural trench that’s created as you propel forward. Lifting your head causes your hips to drop and drag. I guess not wanting your butt to drop and drag also applies here. Then, there’s keeping your head center to your body mass and mentally thinking about cutting “through molecules” instead of just going up against water to grab and pull it. It’s a lot to think about. It reminds me of when I learned to drive a clutch. Eventually it became second nature, which I’m also counting on to kick in with swimming.

Still waiting, I stay loose by shaking my arms and legs to loosen them. Then, I realize I’m behaving as if I’m a real swimmer and don’t want to raise anyone's expectations only to have viewers visibly repulsed as they actually see what I can’t yet do.

A lap lane finally vacates as a tall elder man, with a heavy Russian accent, steps out of the pool. I kick off my “professional” looking lime colored pool shoes accented with three very corny rhinestones. Entering the pool I chat up a lady in the next lane who’s taking a very quick break. She lets me know she swims on her back because she doesn’t know how to swim on her belly. That makes me feel a little more like I could belong here. No more stalling, I push off and start. Face down, my arms and legs extend as my brain is working to calm me down. It says, “Remember to breathe out when your head is in water.”

You see, I tend to be a person that holds my breath, so I have to very earnestly “intend” breathing out at as I’m actively swimming. Breathing properly while swimming is everything since we aren’t fish. My Speedo-capped brain still working to calm me says, “Cut through molecules, instead of working the water." My hands do as told and slice, turning and then going flat to keep that forward motion going. “Roll the head with only one goggle out of the water to take a breath,” my brain continues. I intend it, but obviously still have to work on this to even have rudimentary timing of my breath and head turn. My brain also says, “Focus on you, not anyone else in the room.” So, as I fully-intend myself from one end of the pool to the other, I realize that this is the first time I’ve managed to do one full lap on my belly, break, then another, and another, as funky and raggedy as they are right now.

Yesterday, I had one lesson with a young woman named Lynette who gave me some pointers. I've scheduled three sessions with Lynette. Now and then, I'd “loose it” mid-lane and flip onto my back to breathe full, settle down, then flip back over and continue. And, I did continue because I’m stubborn that way. I was tempted to stay longer, but realized I could easily burn out all this good intention if I over did it. Instead, I'd note the progress each time I entered this chlorine and saline-saturated H20. As a germ-a-fob, I also had to blank out any thought about all the stuff that swam with me in this artificial pond. 

Today, I found that instead of taking a breath every third stroke, or every stroke like some folks do, I am a little better off taking a breath every fifth or sixth stroke. It seems to reconcile with me since I’m used to being under for longer periods of time. Yet, stamina is another challenge, especially since I’m burning up so much energy thrashing. Once the timing of everything comes automatically and I’m not thinking so hard, I’ll be more efficient with my energy.  We’ll see how it pans out as I go along. Key thing right now is to show up and swim. 

My very patient instructor also suggested working out on the rowing machine. I need to build stamina. I’ve always enjoyed rowing, canoes in particular, so the idea of this machine works for me. Also, once finishing with the pool, I spend time in the dry sauna and cook there for a while. In the sauna I settle down, then my lime green flip flops make their way back to the women’s locker area to shower off all the saline, chlorine, and questionable micro-organisms and dress for gym-floor-success. I’m more an outdoor exercise person, but since San Francisco isn’t an outdoor-pool-climate-kind-of-place, 24 Hour Fitness is the next option. 

Walking out onto the gym floor, a sea of well-kept equipment gives off a collective sound, as if there were large metal insects clicking and rubbing their legs together. Working my way over to Lynette, my patient instructor, I follow her to various machines I need in order to build strength. I commit to one of only two rowing machines that sit in the center of a huge room surrounded by arms and legs working over fifty stair masters and jogging machines, some of which have built in TV monitors. High above, on the wall, five or more flat screens snag attention and memorize viewers so that they work out longer.

The rowing machine sits low, facing away from the flat screens, which is fine with me. I like the smooth sliding motion of the seat because it allows my legs to fully extend then come in tight so my heals meet the seat. The arm piece, linked to a counter-resistance chain, provides as much resistance as I want. I like that. I fool with the settings until my particular carrot comes up. This carrot measures how long I’ve rowed and how many calories I’ve burned. It’s simple. It’s an incentive. I close my eyes and begin picturing a huge lake and imagine that the industrial-sized fan nearby is a strong breeze blowing in my face. Taking a peek at the machine settings now and then, I track progress toward a goal of forty minutes that Lynette suggested. So, I make that goal and this machine also shares happy news that it’s deleted, dismissed from my physical person, three hundred calories. That works for me, along with the idea that muscles needed for swimming are on their way to better strength.

So, this is a proposed a new regiment. Swimming, the dry sauna, then the rowing machine for forty minutes. All in all, it’s about two hours in the gym. The plan is two or three times a week. Now, what does any of this have to do with navigation between music, visual art, or writing? I’m not entirely clear. Increasing stamina can’t hurt. To draw large drawings requires climbing up and down ladders, and generally is very physical. Singing definitely requires good breath support and control. Writing requires a clear uninhibited brain. So, as the kind of artist who creates by entering into unfamiliar territory and being outside my comfort factor, I believe this swimming business fits that bill and will have some benefit. At the very least, I’m looking forward to eventually doing laps without struggle as it can provide another way to clear my head, leaving room for creative stuff to blurt out. 

Jean Paul Gualtier's Swimsuit Creation
On a related art and swimming vein, I made my way back to the Jean Paul Gaultier fashion retrospect exhibit at the S.F. De Young Museum. Loved a good part of his work. So, quirky. When I came upon this swimsuit with attached head cover, arm length gloves, and rubber high heel flippers, I swore he'd channeled me and my fashion sense. I wanted to take the whole getup for my pool time. But, since I couldn't do that without ending up reported to folks I know that work there or my colleague Dede Wilsey who's a primary donor on the Museum Board, I decided instead to take this now-museum-legal-flash-free photo to share with you. Those of you that know me well, will see the connection. Imagine the time I could save and get into the pool sooner without having to fool or struggle placing that swim cap on my head. One zip and I'd be good to go. 

The gloves, well, guess they could deflect unwanted micro-organisms, but I'd have to give substantial thought to the material so they don't create drag, slip off, or inhibit movement. Also, gloves and/or high heel rubber flippers might be a bit over dressed for our local 24 Hour Fitness gym unless I planned it as an art performance piece. I'll have to chat with my art friends Réne Yañez or Guillermo Gomez Peña for some T.A. on this. Either way, I got a kick seeing this Gaultier design given my current swimming activity.

So, I’m relearning the timing of my breathing, in and out, as I swim. Timing of breath is critical in swimming and also important as one moves through life in general. I have to master this. Recalibrating the timing of my breath also seems a good metaphor for this period in my life where I’m initiating several changes. Since small, I learned to hold my breath so I could dive into the water and swim around beneath where only legs, rocks, or sand lurked. I could stay under a long time. It’s quiet down there. However, since I’m not a fish, and instead human, I'm coming to terms with that by learning to breathe and take regular breaths at the water's surface. It's also a kind of affirmation–-one that allows me to imagine counting on things to be there when needed, instead of holding my breath and storing up air. Counting on things can also include mercurial things such as inspiration and people....and some fun, stylish, effective swim gear.

I am an artist relearning to navigate in water with the intention of regular breathing, while also creating, and planning to enjoy life much, much more. Go dive or dip into something mercurial or fun today.

I’ll leave you with that for now,


web site:

Copyright ©2010 Lorraine García-Nakata protected under U.S. and International Law. No part of this site maybe reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise), without prior written permission of the copyright owner and artist, Lorraine García-Nakata/Lorraine García. This includes all rights now in existence or which may hereafter come into existence, including but not limited to authorship, documentation, lectures, or any other creation or presentation by Lorraine García-Nakata/Lorraine García in any artistic medium, print, audio, electronic, video, CD ROM, photographic, digital, film, and any other medium.

Wednesday, June 6, 2012

Expecting To Fly-12

Lorraine with new specks, new view 2012

Sitting in a doctor’s office waiting room, my lap top out, I took the lowercase letter “i” and began creating names of imaginary online businesses and services. Like products as the ipod and ipad, I combined “i” with letters in the alphabet beginning with “a” and going through to “z.” Very quickly I arrived at names as: iAm, iAlias, iBet, iCare, and so on. I know, it’s kind of odd but I had time on my hands and, as you know, I enjoy messing with words. So, I’ll share with you what derived from this especially long doctor’s waiting room experience.

As I plowed through the alphabet creating on-line business names, for example “iCare,” some of them made me grin as they came forward. So, I went back and drafted two tag lines for each of the more interesting ones. I was in a quirky mood, so the tongue and cheek writing that was produced reflects this.

Tag lines augment the company/business name and are the marketing bait designed to entice a potential client. You see them all the time on TV commercials. They’re very short, must be easily understood phrases defining the company and/or product service. Here’s an example of a business name and tag line I created and combined: “iCare: Because others don’t.”

I enjoy the process of describing complex things with very few words. It’s a challenge I can’t resist. These business names and introductory tag lines came very quickly with a secondary tag line also emerging. Here is how the business name, first and second taglines work together:  
iCare: Because others don’t.
Caring takes time. Time they don’t give, but we do.
This secondary tagline alludes to the desired outcome and benefit a client could derive from using the product or service. It’s the tag line a client sees or hears last then hopefully acts quickly to contact the company.

This word game I created was fun and a little addicting. Once the tag lines were laid out, I then went back and drafted very short descriptions that further outlined the company’s “service.” Clearly, the services I outlined were meant to be irreverent, poke fun, editorialize, and inject social commentary via a combination of very colloquial and also business language. It’s a fun vehicle to say what you normally wouldn’t about all the goofy stuff we each might experience during our daily lives. 

I got carried away. I admit I did. So feel free to check some out now and then come back. Also, the entries below aren’t necessarily in the order they were created. In short, this is what derived from my recent, very long, doctor’s office wait.

iCare: Because others don’t.
Life is busy, very busy. So, when family and friends don’t have the time for you iCare steps in. We can help with big and small life matters including changing your will noting who’s been there for you and those that think they deserve your assets, but at your end, they’ll have to get a job. We care, 24/7.
Caring takes time. Time they don’t give, but we do.

iWill: Edit your life, edit your will.
Whether you own a lot or your assets are modest, people will be sniffing around after you kick the bucket. iWill provides disinterested professionals who will set things straight. We’ll comb through your wishes, identify decisions you should make, clarify who will benefit, and create a firewall between your assets and those thieving-relatives/hangers-on who’ll try to run the table.
Nouns and verbs that work. Rest in peace now…and later!

iJest: I’m kidding, but I’m not.
Throughout history there’s been a need for telling “truths” so that the pressure of oppression or inequity can be tolerated. History has also shown that just blurting out “truths” can get you, and those near you, ruined or deleted. Court jesters walked that fine, but necessary line. Without court jesters, comedians, satire, or “tongue and cheek” comment, we’d all have hives, pimples, or revolutions would happen with greater frequency. iJest will outfit you with a bullet proof vest and help you to be effectively sarcastic and witty. We’ll give you the tools to hone your craft while also minimizing your overall risk liability. 
Truth hurts, but it’s time they knew.

iCan: Because others can’t, won’t, or shouldn’t.
Even under the toughest circumstance, humans split in two groups: those that figure out how to get through it and those that whine––“expecting” answers from someone else. It’s just the way it is. iCan makes it easy for you to get it done through a pre screened list of experienced and highly motivated individuals that never learned to spell “can’t,” “scared,” “tired,” or “whine.”  
Get the best. Get it done.

iCool: Know your assets because others don't.
Life isn’t always fair. We know that. If you hunch because you’re tall, clog around in high shoes because you’re short, or try to hide or avoid ridicule by “blending” to fit in, iCool can help. Being cool equals attitude and confidence. Wear plaid pants, rolled down white socks, remove your implants, or wear white after Labor Day if that’s what you want. Make it cool because it’s you! Most folks are just followers anyway.
Know who you are, what you like, and screw the rest!

iBet: I bet if I did this, or that.
How many times have you heard or said, “I bet if I had ____I could ____.” If you want something bad enough, it’s time to drop the lame excuses. iBet will you pin you down, won’t let you wiggle away until you’re walking toward door #1.
Time to cut the crap. Go for it!

iBet: When it counts, guessing isn’t Ok 
There’s a whole lot of guessing going on in the world. Some by design, some because a whole lot more people are just plain ignorant. If you really want to know, iBet will get you the information you need. If you’re one of those taking huge liberty with untrue facts and figures that you think folks won’t notice, iBet will set you straight and maybe sue you.
Guessing costs. Knowing is better.

iHeck: Being responsible all the time sucks. Give-a-flying-heck only now and then.
In groups, there are leaders and followers. Most real leaders don’t want the job, but step up because the group is lame, going in circles, or in denial as they walk straight for the cliff. Being responsible, you step in when you’d rather focus on your own needs for a change. iHeck helps you do that. We’ll give you the tools and situations to say, “ that! You’re on your own,” “I don’t give a flying-heck,” or “Not this time buddy.”
Let them do it. Gone fishing!

iDo: Time’s a-waisting. Either you will or you won’t.
Some folks are definite and act without hesitation. Others have to ponder the universe before spitting out what they know they want to do or say. iDo will help cowards say what they want to say and do what they really want to do.
Feel better! Say it for Christ sakes!

iLip: Be edgy, peculiar, and irreverent when it counts.
How many times have you said, “Dang, I wish I’d said that!” Under pressure or under attack it’s common to freeze up. iLip gets you ready. The next time some idiot tries to feel bigger at your expense, be ready to deliver razor sharp lip that can maim. We’ll make it reflex.
Smile and get the last f--king word.

iJustice: Justice for some and less for others.
Tired of witnessing injustice? Tired of seeing those with money, size, nice guy cloaks, and access avoid consequence? Tired of lying bullies that lurk in all areas of human experience? iJustice can help. iJustice delivers super volunteers with ethics, genius, and their own cash to swoop on your problem. iJustice will check it out, strategize on foot, then set it right. Those well-positioned jerks will never know what hit them.
Make them pay. Justice for all!

iJust: Excuses, halfsteps, I just can’t.
I know, life is complicated and can be tough, for some more so than others. Whether you’re at the top of the food chain or catching the scraps, excuses are always in full tilt. It’s annoying. “If I could just ___,” fills the air ways and clogs up everyone’s chi. If you’re going to take any step at all, take a full step or why bother. If you want it, pretend the word “can’t” doesn’t exist. In other words, excuses are lame and tired. iJust will snatch away the fear of flying and boot you right out of a nest that no longer fits. You’re grown. So, act like it.
Sure you can. Don’t cry, fly!

iKeep: When you can’t trust yourself to protect important things.
People vary in their ability to control urges. They gamble, drink, cheat, steal, insider trade or “appropriate” museum relics that really belong to another country. The list is long and crosses all sectors of society. You know who you are, and in some cases, so does the FBI. Denial is a daily structure you afford yourself when in fact it’s weight-bearing capacity will fail during the inevitable inspection. iKeep will store and lock away items that legitimately and ethically belong to you so that you can’t borrow money against them. iKeep will also help you identify items that you cannot be sure were ever really yours. Know what’s yours and protect them from your vices. Return what’s not yours without doing time.
Trust us to make you honest. Give it up, get, or get out of the country!

iKnow: Ask me because you don’t know. Go ahead. Ask me.
Some people retain information like a computer. They read a lot, observe, pay attention, care about the world when the rest of the population further dulls its mental faculty with electronics, reality TV, malls, and all the distractions meant to keep them “in check.” For those that want to step away from all that, even for a moment, and know something, anything, iKnow can help. iKnow let’s you actually talk to another human that either already knows, or can find it out for you, then engage you in a quality human conversation. Loose the inflatable adult doll, pause Siri and all that blood spattering gaming, and try thinking and speaking in real time with real humans. Living for real.
Snap out of it! Ask me, ask me. Let’s talk!

iKnew: “I knew that!”
How many times do you hear "I knew that!" when you know the fool doesn’t have a clue? Don’t be one of those obvious and lame folks. Know what the heck you are talking about and if you don’t know, cop to it. iKnew will give you the tools to avoid faking knowledge. Instead, you’ll have the confidence to say, “Oh yah?” “Didn’t know that,” “Really?” or “That’s interesting.”
Don’t fake. Be confident about what you don’t know.

iKnew: Hunches, signs, patterns. Do you want the truth or do you want to stay “happy”?
Many people know deep down when they’re being played or lied to. They just don’t want to know. They wait for some “clear” sign instead of watching their checking accounts, confidence, or circle of real friends get smaller. iKnew will sit you down, back-hand you, then layout the facts while holding your head still so you can’t turn away. You’ll admit that you “knew” it all along, just didn’t want to see it. We’ll get you through it. We’ll get you to the other side.
Now you know. So, move on!

iLapse: Brain choking, memory slipping. Tools to remember this or that ‘cause no one else will
Whether your equipment is old, you’re in denial, or just hung over, remembering can sometimes be a problem. Taking vitamins, getting enough sleep, being vegan, and living well can help, but brain slippage may still persist. iLapse will size up your particular situation and help you do the best with what you have. Shore yourself up.
What more do you have to loose? Enjoy and remember as long as you can!

iLarge: Take only what you need. Leave the rest.
In a country whose assets are out of proportion with the rest of the globe, we’re addicted to wanting more. Bigger cars, boobs, genitals, heels, bank accounts, the list is long and obscene. “Supersize me” is the tag line for an insecure culture that is never full yet often swollen and sluggish. iLarge can help. Leave it to us to set you right and leave you satisfied with what you have or much less. Professionals will assess your unique situation and possibly have you pack your bags and sent to an undisclosed adjustment vacation site. We guarantee you’ll see things differently when you return.
Enough of that for you. More for everyone else!

iLoan: Need money quick? We’ve got it.
Got people making rude calls, threatening mail piling up, and parking your car where it can’t been seen and hauled off? Burned all your bridges and no one left to ask? Well, yes you’re in a mess, but we can throw you a line. iLoan can hand over a bundle quick, but it’ll cost you. Miss payments and it will really cost you.
Sell your soul and live. Have it when it’s due, or die.

iManners: Gauche is a deal breaker.
At dinner, the person sitting across from you looks good until mouth activity begins. Talking loud and eating at the same time, salad and fish parts shoot across onto your plate, some particles landing in your water glass. Oblivious, the person makes it worse by raising an arm, loudly snapping fingers for the waiter. Gross. If you or someone you still care about fits this profile, iManners can step in. We’ll corral that gauche behavior, lay it out, and transform that goat.
From the barn to better…so you can take them anywhere.

iMean: Mean what you say, say what you mean.
People that waffle are annoying. Boxed in they’ll say, “Well, what I mean is,” or “I didn’t mean that,” or “I was meaning to.” Christ, take a stand! Figure out what matters to you, take a position, and follow through. iMean can shore up the flimsiest of spines, even yours. We’ll make you stand up straight and look a person in the eye. We’ll scare the sh-t out of you if you don’t.  
Speak up. Put yourself out. Feel better.

iMoved: We’ll help you move without certain people knowing.
We’ve all know folks that are a bummer, are maybe even scary and just won’t go away. Yet, when you move and don’t leave a forwarding address, they make a point to find you. iMoved will step in and take care of it. We’ll pack your stuff, find you a great place, and confuse the hell out of that someone that won’t go away. If that person persists, doesn’t get the message, we’ll break some legs. Then we’ll break some arms and go from there.
I moved. See you later. Come over? Oh, I don’t think so.

iWreck: I’m a wreck. You’re a wreck.
Have you put some miles on your patience, given too much of yourself and received way less in return? Are there spoiled 30-year-olds that still think they're 20-year-olds in your life that suck your energy and feel entitled to have it? Are you just getting hip to the concept of personal boundaries? Well, Christ, you’re probably a wreck. It’s time you pull an emergency brake and hop off that train. Those of us with iWreck have been there. We know the signs and what it’ll take. We’ll slap you silly until you change your ways. Then, we’ll remind you what it’s like to give up that flip chart and have fun.
Be reckless. Unwide. Slap the first sucker that tries to pull you backwards!

iWent: I went so you didn’t have to.
If you're spoiled, feel entitled, and only want to do what you feel like doing, iWent is here. If you have the cash, iWent will take care of it. We’ll go in person to break up with your latest girlfriend, attend your kid’s piano recital, wash your wife’s car, or fulfill your jury service. You can check it off as “I went” without ever leaving the premises.
Don’t go. We’ll go. Stay spoiled.

iWas: Been a junkie, crooked banker? We’ll create a new you.
You’ve popped pills and shot up, burned bridges, been ruthless and unkind, and broken a long list of laws? Well, it’s not too late. iWas can step in, hack you a new identity, and clear your slate. What you “was” can disappear. By becoming an iWas premium member, we will clear your slate up to three times. After that you’ll probably screw up royal, loose all your dough, and will no longer be able to afford us.
Was that once. Now I’m not.

iWanna:  Things you wanna’ do, but are too scarty-cat to do it.
As you look in the mirror can you see your lips still sucking on that pacifier? Do you regularly use words that are just too phonetically close to “mama” (I wanna’, ain’t gonna’)? Are you still living with your parents at 40, but not taking out the trash? Are your to-do Post-its your only colorful friends? iWanna will drag you outside, tell your parents to rent your room, and show you how life is lived. We’ll push you down and get that knee scrape out of the way, get you lost and not feed you till you find your way back, and generally fast-forward your adult maturity to match your age.  You won’t want to go back. You can’t anyway because your room is rented.
Do it, hurt yourself, fail, and eventually succeed.

I had a good time crafting this edgy bit of writing. Did me a lot of good. My mood is up, I'm swimming early in the morning, and not that interested in eating any stuff with questionable ingredients.
To close:
Yes, I did finally see the doctor and wasn’t at all grouchy about the long wait because I was so heavily engaged with these nouns and verbs.
Yes, I’ll copyright these business titles, taglines, and quirky descriptions.
Yes, Maybe I’ll further develop this work and write something that expands on the overall idea.
Yes, Even looking out over the (sometimes frustrating) terrain of our group process called “society,” it did help to write this stuff as a kind of pressure release and truth telling vehicle.
Yes, You should also try having some fun with words. At the very least you may go from a frown to a grin and maybe even laughing out loud.

I’ll leave you with this for now.
As always, best to you,
web site:

Copyright ©2010 Lorraine García-Nakata protected under U.S. and International Law. No part of this site maybe reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise), without prior written permission of the copyright owner and artist, Lorraine García-Nakata/Lorraine García. This includes all rights now in existence or which may hereafter come into existence, including but not limited to authorship, documentation, lectures, or any other creation or presentation by Lorraine García-Nakata/Lorraine García in any artistic medium, print, audio, electronic, video, CD ROM, photographic, digital, film, and any other medium.