a christmas story

all right so christmas is over and big deal, i wasn’t really expecting much from it. i feel good about the gifts i gave. and i did get an unexpected check and donation through paypal that actually totally surprised me and helped lighten the load. as well as a bunch of help from homies when i told the dentist story that had me pretty upset for a day or two. i couldn’t stay upset past that time, because mis amigos online solved the problem for me. man i love those moments. those are the moments (in this case) where you say “damn, you really meet some cool people when you write a blog. who would’ve thought?” tho i sort of feel, often, like some version of blanche dubois in streetcar named desire (yeah, leave it to me not to identify with marlon “sex appeal evaporates from me in sheets that can cover a football field” brando, but instead with blanche dubois) who says “i have always depended on the kindness of strangers” because i remember years ago after a certain september and i was homeless and on the road and someone online bought me a pizza so i could eat. like…from states away. and i wasn’t even online hardly anymore except when i stopped into libraries to use the computer labs.

i also have a wild and odd story about one of the cats in high school who bullied me endlessly getting so upset when i quit at 15 he called me at home and begged me not to, thinking it was his fault. i was soon rooming with him in his bedroom in his parent’s house, because i left my home shortly after leaving high school. that will definitely have to make its way into one of my stories or films one day. life, it always surprises you. just when you think you can’t be surprised. (and i probably did think that even at 15!)

but anyway, i do love those moments. when against all odds, and unexpectedly, people reach out and give a helping hand. don’t think i haven’t been on the other side of it, to, i have. and in my mind those otherside moments bring me tears. but when you talk about them it doesn’t sound so much like “oh the humanity of people is beautiful” but rather like jerry seinfeld when his inner monologue echoes out “i really AM a good person!” so i’ll skip those times if ya don’t mind, except to say that each one feeds the other. as i’ve said before, and probably heard before, its’ all contagious, and it’s all a weave. it can be hate and anger and killing we give away and take from others in a seamless and self-propagating exchange that blankets the world, or it can be kindness. and utter generosity, and you know, each one is undeserved. nobody really “deserves” anger and hate. and nobody really “deserves” your unsolicited and unearned generosity. i think its more about what kind of world do we want to be living in. but there i go again, acting like the obvious is something that can save us.

regardless, for the first time in a long time, i am not burdened with longing and lack, with thoughts of all the things i dont have but would love so much to have, and by this i mean TOOLS i mean art tools. painting, music tools, video. some gained by fate, some by hard work, and often, some arrived at by the generosity of others, but by whichever means, i now have the things i need to make my art.

i just dont really have much time for some reason!

as selfish as i feel i am, sometimes i meet people who really impress me with their ability to see nothing but their own end of things. who cannot keep in their mind that others might bear consideration, that you may dally with more than their one comment or issue or request. who read you and think they are the only person reading, and so all the time and energy you have is theirs for the taking. or the abusing. who think they have the right to treat you as they like. or who are just plain fucking crazy!

on the UMX blog for instance. i handle loads of spam. every day. the ratio is maybe 8 to 1. the comments you see are about an eighth of what i field. maybe less. its horrific. i delete in big chunks. i must have missed one the other day and accidentally deleted a reader’s christmas wish that started out “we dont agree on everything, but” and then went on to wish me a merry christmas. i didnt even know i deleted it actually. but hold on for that part.

sometimes i get offers of friendship, or help. or offers to partner in business, or feature my work, or my voice, or just whatever. “stop in for a beer if you’re around our neck of the woods” and such. very heartwarming stuff. well, a few days ago someone said just that. stop in for a beer, a cerveza, if you’re ever down this way.

then, a few days later, i get an email swimming at me, among the many.

them: why did you delete my comment? [offers more links and information showing me how marcos and others are not genuine in what they want and say and work for] have a nice life asshole.

me: (after reading this many times and checking my blog in bafflement) 1. you clearly have emotional issues, 2. it was an accident and i didnt mean to delete your comment, i deal with a lot of spam and delete in big chunks, must have deleted yours.

them: you are just like republicans and corporates, i call you on your shit and you say i have emotional problems. what a fake. and to think that i invited you to dinner. i would have even given you a surfing lesson.

me: you didnt call me on my shit! you called me an asshole and i said you have emotional problems. and i appreciated your offer. but i dont trust people who flip out and get nasty so easily, to be honest.

them: sorry for calling you an asshole, but deleting my comment seemed an assholish thing to do. i offered you information first that disagreed with yours, thats why i thought you deleted it. and i dont trust people who delete non-combative and honest comments.

me: thats a weak apology when you consider that i’m not the one who acted like an asshole. and the deletion was an accident! you only guessed it happened! it didnt! why would i delete your comment for saying you dont agree with everything? i leave worse comments than that up to this day!

them: it made me feel weird, like reverse racism that you deleted my comment. you are just as bad as stormfront.

me: um yeah except it was an accident and there is no such thing as “reverse racism.” later, freak.

them: freak? oh how educated of you, [batshit statements proceed]

i block the email address. they send from a different email to tell me i’m abusive for calling them a “freak.” get that? they call me an asshole for something they imagine. and then when i block their email they find a different way to contact me to tell me i’m being abusive! and then they begin saying things that make me feel they are a little racist underneath everything. and i just dont get who these people are.

but then again, i may.

i guess the scary part to me is not the idea that there are crazy people in the world. i know there are. i’ve lived with them. more than once. and i know anyone is capable of just about anything. even if they aren’t diagnosed. (dig in, they often are.) i don’t box myself in with bad guesses when it comes to people. i’ve already had my mind flipped. once you live with a genuinely crazy person, it changes you forever. they can look and sound like anyone at first glance. that is often how you end up entangled with them.

there are important differences underneath the paint job of course. and i’d rather blast bill o’reilly from a boombox all the way down the block then wrestle with a crazy person on an intimate level again. (i know, almost the same thing, but not quite.) you can’t work it out. you can’t grapple it. you can’t prepare for it, you can’t clean up after it, you can’t defend against it. if you find an actual crazy person in your life, just get the hell away, do it quick, and don’t look back. because they will do all they can to hook a nail into your clothes and drag you down into the busy, stinking pit of their own madness. and you’ll go blind there.

i will weed out people who sow distrust and disharmony, and i dont care if they come with a smile or with a sword. when your statements tell me over time that you are interested in pronouncing me a “fake” and appealing to me through various pressures to post information or comments that throw my agenda into an unfavorable or contradictory or doubtful light, and shaming me for not doing so, and/or warning me that i “cant trust everything i read or who is saying things,” well, i think you ultimately tell me quite a lot.

this is something i deal with somewhat regularly. i think i’m finally talking about all these thoughts and awarenesses for the same reason that i plan on doing my year-end review soon (i may resist doing predictions this year). and announcing my intentions for next year, regarding online life and my blogs. and trying to finish up projects. (trying!) because here is a seam. here is the segue. and washing the hands clean. and then digging into a new patch of soil.

so now, this blog.

this blog now has custom art. i’ve spent a little time getting ready for next year. i plan to be posting a bunch on my video life, and i want to have a place i can do it well, and a place that is mainly for my art and thus doesn’t use endless representations of art by others (siquieros, rivera, orozco, etc). while it has a bunch of eyptian themed art, (except for the Coin ‘o Nezua that you see here) i do plan to move it to aztec and maya and toltec, olmec, etc. but that takes time. these are actually illos from the second children’s book i wrote and illustrated, but that doesn’t yet have a publisher.

my books. this is another area i wish i had more time for. as some of you know, there is a pretty big talent agency in nyc that wanted to read my new novel and consider me for representation. that is, they wanted to look at my stuff and possibly rep me. (my old editor turned them on to me). and i had to agree not to show my work to anyone else until they make an offer or not. this was very exciting, as you can imagine. wildly exciting, as you might imagine. (haven’t sent them the novel yet, still editing it. or rather…too busy to edit it now.) so that is stalled. its kind of freaking me out. what a HUGE opportunity. they have the money to market my work. my last publisher did not. there was interest, and they let it wilt. in fact, the last deal we were approached with—people pitching to nickelodeon and such for my character—was killed by ME. i told them things that scared them off. basically that my publisher was letting me down. and not holding up to the deal. so if this talent agency dug my junk, hey. i could get a contract that might end this whiny shit for good. that might enable me to buy that power mac i need. its hard. need more money to make more time. need la novia not to have to work. she doesnt even make much. we both work. i dont have time to do a video vlog a week and edit my book.

there’s such a thin line. i feel i will finally cross it. already, look at how much has happened. just since last year! once i thought artistic success for me was puro fantasy. i dont want to be prince or madonna or some filthy rich megastar. i just want to make money from my natural talents—those activities that i fight off the urge to do most the times i am doing other things. and be secure. take my friends out for lunch when i want. and buy my kids all they need. and help my mother as she ages. to be able to think of doing more and more for others as i am caught up less and less in surviving, myself. i dont want to have to go crazy trying to put a tie on or acting like a normal dude at a normal job. i really dont mean to complain at all, i dont see this as such. because i’ve been on this arc for years. even my life now is outtasight (to borrow a saying from my youth). even doing blog design for cash is a huge step up than the way it used to be. labor for almost minimum wage. thats how it used to be. homelessness. sheer inability to make consistent money. hunger. bad situations.

i know i always jump to the ‘rags to riches’ type story when i begin getting romantic about success and such…forgive me. but it really is that way when you spent a number of years at the start being both poor and talented, i think. seeing success around you, but you dont have it. being told all your life you have talent, but that’s mixed in with the rest of what you are told. and then there are the obstacles in your life, obstacles to even remaining sane. learning how to work things, to bring in food, and keep shelter. to not hate everyone. to see hope. somewhere. to not give up. i almost did a couple times.

that’s one of the reasons why i always hooked into hip hop. that theme about being too tuff to keep back, about rising above antagonism and situational challenge. i loved muhammed ali the moment i heard him. i was about six? i had a doll as a child. “float like a butterfly, sting like a bee.” i said it over and over. “you can’t beat me. i’m too pretty!” unabashed egoism. its extreme for a functional reason. sometimes its the only thing that can carry you through the fight, that can buoy you up through unbeatable and extreme odds. we need those raised fists out there. we need those battle beats and anthems out here. its a hard world. and many are born into circumstances that do a lot to make you feel you will be buried. buried in hopelessness, or poverty, or violence, or whatever. those things are not obstacles to me now. there is finally much opportunity in front of me. things have changed over time. where did i see that quote the other day? damn. think it was thoreau. “things dont change. people do.” i’ve changed a lot over time. and so has the world.

there is more to come.