Pandemic Moments: Masks and Binaries

Is there anybody out there?
Or, as Dorothy Parker once said:
"What fresh hell is this?"

(Note: The poem which originally appeared in this spot has moved to an area below the jump.)

In a word: "Fuck."

I was going to put up several different posts during the last few months but - as you may have noticed - I was not successful. And, then - presto change-o - along came the ongoing pandemic pandemonium (you know the one) and suddenly a surreal, inexplicable sci-fi miasma fell upon us: the world went on hold, governments went bat-shit, small businesses went down the tubes, Wall Street imploded, people began dying off at a rapid rate, and, all the while, not a soul knows which end is up or what's going down apart from some mysterious, virulent DISEASE (origin unknown) which, if it isn't poised to dive into your proverbial blow-hole, is climbing into your eyeballs or insinuating itself under your skin.

The graphic featuring van Gogh inset left pretty much sums up my response. (Thanks, BG!)

In the end, I realized I couldn't bring myself to post anything... at the same time feeling I MUST avoid all reference to the present global affairs. I've had enough of contaminants in my recent past, and enough of various forms of "official" posturing (predominately from affluent male sources and without meaningful content) to last several lifetimes. Perhaps, I'll have something to say when the dust clears. Perhaps, not.

But, if you're reading this, I'm going to assume you're not seeking the expected... nor obligatory blah-bah regarding current events. Good. Because neither are my strong suit. Moreover, due to my continuing refugee status, isolation-at-home does not seem like a half-bad state of affairs. In other words, if I had a home I'd be quite happy staying in it, thank you! As for social distancing, well, for introverts and all those people whose job it is to magically pull attractive and meaningful things out of their heads (and hands), it's a requirement.

Admittedly, I am in the throes of new art projects... which will hopefully be revealed in future Pandemic Moments. Meanwhile, the two photos of myself  (taken by myself) document a couple of failed attempts creating masks. I did wear the blue one (at the top of the post) a few times while wandering about in the Outside but, ultimately, facial coverings - although useful for espionage - kind of give me the heebie-jeebies when everyone is wearing one. On the other hand, there's something to be said for face coverings. One reveals absolutely nothing. Stay tuned: with a little more innovation, they could become the Next Big Fashion Trend!

(BTW, videos are returning to this blog again. (!!!) I haven't added anything to the Tunes section on the sidebar, but I will eventually. Meanwhile, I've posted this old Bowie/Pink Floyd collaboration above.)

The Age of the Traveler

I stand at the edge of the open door

to the warehouse

smoking a cigarette.

Judging by the awareness of the men

Who occasionally flicker across the screen

I must look like an old hooker.

This is to be expected.

It's a cartoon I've seen a hundred times/

It's merely one disguise/

One objective/

For a Traveler.

I am a Traveler.

This is the Age of the Traveler.

The closer you get to me

the more completely I'll transform.

Your whore...

Your master.

This is the Age of the Traveler.

We will transform.

- Dia Sobin, May 9, 2020

***

Till next time, then, happy travels to you all... and, by that, I mean figuratively, in an imaginal sense. But, cheer up; sometimes inward trips are more relevant and life-changing than mere physical transportation. :-)