The bass was so loud it made my nose tingle. I felt the deep thumping in my chest and contemplated whether at those decibals the vibrations could shift matter and if so, then why couldn't it fuck up the rythymn of a human heart? I pondered whether loudass Snoopdog ever initiated a heart attack before. Oh well, i consoled myself, at least we'll all go deaf together. It was sexy actually. The leather. The darkness. The intoxication of weed drenched air. More so even when passing cops failed to interrupt tokes, or generate even a passing concern. Maine pimpin in his black satin getup, gold watch, and fedora covered old school curl. Shell with her giant rolling laugh punctuating every statement.
I love them. It's hard to believe how the years have passed. They've come so far. Their babies are bigger than me now! I'll never forget visiting their sardine can of an apartment in Arizona - bodies and kids crashed out everywhere - the couch, the floor: the mighty Maine with babies in each of his arms - rocking one while feeding the other as Shell warmed the next bottle in the kitchen. Winter and i slept on the ground crammed between two beds, next to us his crazy detoxing Mother, next to his kids, next to his kids his siblings: I doing my best to ignore the snarling crazy lookin pitpulls making menacing eyes at me, hungrily clawing the screen door while staring me down.
It wasn't easy for them. It wasn't always cheerful. But they got through it. They're still together and going strong. They work hard. The have a nice home. They did the things. They made their fun along the way. The love their kids and each other. What more could you want?
I see them being together for a long, long time. I see them being old together. I see them spoiling and loving their grandkids. The kinda couple that commands respect. Badass oldschoolers that all the youngsters look up to for wisdom and lean on for direction.
I talked a long while with Shell tonight. About family. About life. About love. She is so incredible. She spoke to straight to my heart. It was a short time, but a gift to spend with her. I hope to get back in time tomorrow night to go out. My departure date is fast approaching.
Anyway, the performance was silly - but fine. It's good practice, it gets me back in the mode. I can't complain.We took a whole roll of film afterwards which made the 3 hours of getting in costume worth it. Even drove a few minutes to the falls for a better background. Kinda forgot that we'd be directly under a view front restaraunt - but we posed and clicked nonetheless, walking barefoot in the snail covered grass, and brushing the rain off our silk costumes. Then we stood in the parking lot, Eimaj an i, again falling back to the topic of joining forces and doing our thing: performing regularly, making our own gigs. Trying to make it at least a part time thing. She says she's not good at self promotion, and i can relate - but i told not her to think of it as ego - think of it as business - market yourself like any other product - be legit - get the website going and flyers- make a business card and pass it out at every performance you do now with links (since you're performing all the time now anyway for the guru) (for free)- place ads in local pulications - encourage word of mouth - offer promotion deals and wheel it in. You gotta put yourself out there to get the ball rolling. Start small, make yourself available, diversify venues, provide literature and it will snowball from there. That's my 2 cents anyway. Not that i know what i'm talking about or anything, but it sounds good, right? Can't hurt! Better than putting years and years into something and getting stuck. Losing money to entertain someone else? Screw that! At very LEAST her expenses should be paid for a performance - . I mean, it's a big production - not just the dance itself but also the 2-3 hours getting in that crazy getup, commuting time, gas, costume cleaning -not to mention the large investment in years of lessons, in purchasing the rights to the music when one song can be over $100, the costume and bells, trips to India, etc. And time. Of course time. Years and years of time. Anyway, that's all worth something, there's nothing wrong with getting paid.
Right?
No comments:
Post a Comment