i believe in public communion

i rushed into town today. thanks to the good people of nwa. (can you seriously believe that that is how they call themselves now? straight out of compton?)

i sat near chick hernandez on the flight. (he may try to be slightly incognito in mcnamara terminal, but i know men who know ball; that and his lid is always the tip off.) he flew with us back in steerage and slept most of the way. when we touched down, as we jostled to get out of the racks, i thanked him for his years of work and service. i also confided how much i loved that commercial with him + his kids; the one with the turtle in the house and at the door. he knew precisely where i was going with it, and checked me. he didn't look nearly as panicked as tony kornheiser did the time i approached him with googs. you are still my nancy, david michael silver, even though we have a continent separating us.

i went right out to college park for a session this afternoon organized by ebb + ryan, the righteous woman behind visions in feminism. they organized to bring rhodessa jones to campus and to town. she was amazing. it was worth the trip to see her. she participated in a discussion that was conducted by grad students who posed a series of questions -- along the lines of inside the actor's studio. it was good. what am i typing? it was great. she is a powerful presence. and she believes that art can save people's lives.

i do wonder about that, especially as one who is prone to need both art and saving. she said many wonderful things including the title line. she talked about the power of making art. she talked about the 19 pregnancies and 12 births her mother had. she talked about her famous and not famous brothers. she talked about being a dancer in a peep show in san francisco and how hostile men will be even and especially when they are there um, well helping themselves to themselves. she said a number of important things here and i wish that i could repeat to every single person i have heard impugn the dancer who was viciously assaulted during a recent party in durham. jones talked about that work, and her other artistic work. she was moving, and a little manipulative -- hey, she's an actor. but wow. she quoted her mother a lot -- i liked the part about growing children under your heart. and about how her mother urged not to be in the world and in the way. and about how her grandchild warned her about taking candy from men. and about how there are no secrets. i mostly believe that. there are no secrets. she concluded by teaching us a hand dance (not a d.c. hand dance, but a sign language hand dance -- in which she proclaimed "i believe in mythology vs. pathology.") and then, we got to go to dinner about a dozen of us at sammantha's. so, i got my slow-roasted pork with bitter oranges and seafood pupusas.

and, i almost forgot, rhodessa jones reminded me of the power of truth and reconciliation. now more than ever don't we need a TRC here in the u.s.? more TRC; less TRL! she reported that in south africa they are dismantling prisons and building centers of excellence.

tomorrow, just before my session at OAH, i will get to be in a workshop with her for the afternoon. we are meant to wear clothes that are warm, soft, and flowing. i am a little scared of her and myself.

it is so good to be back in d.c. the grass is, in fact, greener here. i am sure that it seems so much more verdant because it has been so very shitty recently for me. i am tired. and i really need some magic and nurturing and real old-fashioned unmediated, soulful intimacy.

an update: it remains unclear what will happen with things one and two and their parents. this is extremely sensitive and difficult. and i need to type my words carefully. so i think that i should stop for now.