...and they lived happily ever after. Smith & Lady: poets, artists, photographers & adventurers.
Our relationship was forged to the soundtrack of Yoko Ono's magic,
frenetic, love-laden song, "Walking On Thin Ice." ( play song )
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Precedent kathy’s economic stimulus package – a prescription for today & possibly the future (albeit with tweaking and optimization):
1. If you happen to be near a flower shop, I hear the bees are expecting food next year and so buy a flower, think of a bee, and if you are wealthy, buy flowers for your entire house. I hear they are going to flower forever and ever.
2. I hear the bees have been heard of as ‘unhealthy’ in an outdated narrative, but I’ve recently heard an update on this information: there are some 15 or so new species of bees. I hope they are very good, sturdy, happy little pollinators and that they somehow magically know how to find their ways back to the hives. I anticipate that we shall eat fruit, good fruit, from now until the foreseeable future. I COMMAND IT SO. And the fruit will be wildly and widely available for maws of mass consumption, and will be very healthy and beneficial for the maws of mass consumption.
So, I command you to start eating 5 servings of fruits and vegetables a day (if you have the money for it and if it is available in your region. I hear most regions do have enough food. I would like to assume so. If not, I COMMAND IT SO.)
Of the grocery stores, et cetera: I really don’t understand how a couple of red peppers can really equal the life of a chicken. How can this situation be changed so that healthy food is subsidized? GOVERNMENT: I COMMAND YOU TO START SUBSIDIZING HEALTHY FOOD FOR PEOPLE.
3. Cellphones used to have a ‘bad’ reputation. I hear that they are now in collaboration with our needs, and nature’s needs. Thank you, cellphones! We love you!
4. I hear more and more Republicans are finding that they really were right, after all, that they are decent human beings who put their mouths where their money is in terms of helping the poor with churches, in stimulating the economy ethically so that people can buy more locally-made, hand-made goods – this is my vision for the near future. This is my economic stimulus plan.
5. The rich people will dine on the most succulent, juicy, well-marbled grass-fed beef, served to them by wonderfully paid and happy craftspeople who work with food.
6. McDonald’s and its ilk will start serving healthy, inexpensive, wonderfully-tasting food, and will pay its workers very well, a living wage that will meet and exceed its collaborators expectations, 32 hours per week with full benefits and pension plans in reparation for the history of the business’s exploitation of its workers and environment. In turn, the workers will become very faithful advocates of McDonald’s (and its ilk). And their high wages and high health will help stimulate the local economies.
So, on some days, a person of moderate wealth might find that he/she would like to eat at McDonald’s or its ilk, and other days, at an expensive smoothie bar or expensive restaurant or vegetarian restaurant (I hear they are becoming quite popular.)
7. Artists: Did you know that anyone can become an artist? Sure, some of us are misunderstood, but–get this–in a civilized society with lots of cash flow, the rich people buy lots of art. They buy personalized items for lots of money, and so do we. We are rich people! Did you know that? All of us are rich.
We might not have the actual cash money in our bank accounts right this second–but I hear it’s coming! Has to do with that hand-crafted, ethically-produced stimulation thing. Yowzers.
8. Poets: Why are you giving away God’s words for free? You are so good. Buy each others books. I command thee. I command more people to start appreciating poetry–people who might not necessarily write poetry, but suddenly find that, wow, what a goldmine of nuance and love and reverence for life there is in those darned poets! BORDERS BOOK STORE: I command you to buy books from local poets in consultation with the people who know best–like Suzanne from Macs.
INDEPENDENT BOOK STORES: You are lovers of hand-crafted zines, recycled and reowned books, fine coffee environments, tee, pastries, plants, atmosphere, music, fine wine, et cetera. IN MY ECONOMIC STIMULUS PLAN FOR YOU, YOU WILL NOT HAVE TO WORRY ABOUT LOSING BUSINESS, ONLY GAINING IT!
9. Back to the bees. I hear monoculture crops weren’t such a good idea. I’m glad they’re realizing now that they need to employ beekeepers for the local areas, and that most of the year (maybe?) the bees need to eat organic, varied, wonderful, varieties of food. Perhaps a patch of this food with a local beekeeper could be employed in every area that needs one? And that the use of pesticides is suddenly found to not be necessary, or that somehow, it is in coordination with the health needs of pollinating insects? Seems like local beekeepers would be a good jobs program to me.
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I imagine that this plan will require some tweaking, but it sounds like a good start and good vision to me. What do you all think?
Maybe Heaven is supposed to be this Planet. This is the butterfly that’s going to carry me home, and this is the trash I’m going to pick up later, I hope.
“No Exit” by Mother Dwarf Smith – foto by son Smith
We made the monthly Tremont ArtWalk rounds tonight, and our first stop half a block around the corner at the Doubting Thomas Gallery, my 24 year old art past struck again. Performance artist Frank Green is selling off his art collection and one of the pieces he has for sale is a fine assemblage by my dead mom–Mother Dwarf–while another in a rusted cake pan is one-third of a triptych of mine from the mid-1980s (the other two portions of the triptych were destroyed somehow).
Also saw Dick Head at Green’s show, and 4 days ago in another part of town I chanced across some of my old artwork in a couple of Dick Head’s 1985 Clevebland Rag-o-zeens. My old art past is Mobius strip looping around in some Twilight Zone infinity flip. These seem to me to be omens saying I’m supposed to be here.
I first met poet artist punk musician publisher performance artist Dick Head in 1983. There was a pounding on my 4th floor warehouse fire door. I opened it to my first view of Dick Head. He whined, “Do you have any drugs?” “No,” I replied, “but if you find any, come back.” An hour later he was back pounding on my steel door, with drugs. Not a bad foundation for a 27 year friendship.
Robert Ritchie a.k.a Dick Head – foto by Smith
Sometimes I forget how long I’ve been in Ohio. Moved to Chagrin Falls in 1977 when I was 31 (moved there to be with another man’s wife), then to Solon in 78, downtown Cleveland warehouse 81, Tremont 85, Europe 2006, Africa 07, Mexico 07, and back to Tremont 09 at 63.
“Will you still need me, will you still feed me, when I’m sixty-four?”
Started life in Idaho in 1946. Then Washington state, Oregon, California, Tennessee, Maryland, Hawaii, Virginia, Florida, Connecticut, Michigan, Arizona, Ohio. And of course the England Netherlands Poland Croatia Italy France Spain Morocco Mexico Ohio loop just to keep things interesting
No wonder place has seldom been my identity.
“No Exit” (detail) by Mother Dwarf Smith – foto by Smith
“As Above, So Below” – 1/3 of triptych by Smith – foto by Smith
Thomas Wolfe wrote “You Can’t Go Home Again”. Even if you could, Siddhartha’s ferryman won’t let you step in the same river twice since it’s never the same river because it’s always new water, new you.
I know what river Cleveland’s like–I should, I spent 29 years there–so when I go back and see it anew with my modified me, the changes will tell me more about me than Cleveland.
We awoke this morning in beautiful Oaxaca Mexico, will sleep 1,946 miles northeast cold in Cleveland Ohio. As the dead man says, what a long strange trip it be.
We get good words(*) going out the door . . .
Got hugged by our landlords, so I think our 15 month residency has been a success. Of course it helps that we smile, say hello, pay our rent early, don’t make noise, don’t cause trouble.
The owner of the small breakfastlunch across the street said next time we come, we can stay at his house (I think he means rent).
The guy we buy our 40 pound bottles of water from below us says too bad we’re going. Can’t be just the money because the 80 pounds of water we buy a week only comes to $1.60
Gonzalo of the internet cafe, avocado tree, and Saturday grilled chicken across the street gave us a ceramic heart and an avocado.
An older gringo who’s been living here 20 years says she’s sorry to see us go because we’re not sun bunny tourists like most these days but more like the seekers who came for adventure back then.
Young woman in Krakow Poland and an old man in Liznjan Croatia told us they were happy to meet us because they saw not all Americans were bad.
So we done good here and there along the way.
(*) I found when we left Cleveland mid-2006, if you want folk to say good things about you, just leave town. They’ll say most anything just to get you gone.
Day after tomorrow we leave 80 degree weather to go live in 28 degree weather. No one can say we don’t go against the flow as we go from perpetual sun to ice snow gray and blow.
15 months living in paradise is more than enough. Every day is slow and endless and the same yet time passes quickly here.
Lady asked me what I’d miss most about Oaxaca. Hard to say before the fact but I’d guess the sun, the light, the warmth, our 3rd floor roof patio with 270 degrees of mountains rising around us, the brilliant colors of the buildings, the endless variety of fruit and flower trees, the friendly people, the lively streets with their constant people animal vehicle vignettes, and having an endless supply of almost free weed.
But, Lady is right – we’re in an isolated fog down here, especially with me smoking 12 hours a day for 15 months. We’ve been traveling 31 months now, and it’s time to return to see who we’ve become and how that changes what we left. I figure on staying in Cleveland just long enough to get Criminal published and then we’ll move on – possibly to the Far East and New Zealand.
We also need to find younger English speakers. Most the gringos here range from 66 to 85 years old, and have come down to retire or die, while we’re still churning, still living life. We need poetry readings and edgy art openings. Here it’s all a wee bit too polite and genteel, at least when the drug cartel and the police aren’t shooting each other over who gets the largest cut of the narco profits.
The coolest cultural scene we’ve come across in our journey was Krakow Poland with its huge underground English speaking music scene, but that fell apart soon after we moved on (nothing to do with us, just timing). We met our coolest friend there – Blue7 – who was the leader of a rock n roll avant garde cabaret garage band called Urban-Jellen Test. He finally moved back to the U.S. after 7 years of travel and is in Hollywood now working on the Iron Man 2 movie as an artist. Even though our book Criminal has yet to be published, he’s read it and is interested in trying to get it made into a film. Boy do I ever wish him luck.
The second coolest cultural scene we’ve seen (outside of Cleveland which knocks em all out) was London England. Massive amount of poetry readings, tons of decent poets (most but not all way too tame and polite), fairly mediocre art – but the city’s so loud and expensive I can’t see ourselves living there. I discovered I could also live in Amsterdam or Paris, but again both cities are too expensive for our lack of funds.
When the book is published, then maybe the equation will change.
The adventures of Lady & Smith, soon to be no longer broadcast from foreign shores.
Getting things picked up, packed, mailed, given away, tossed, cleansed for our fiftieth-some move since 2006. Our fridge and furniture have been traded for our final two weeks rent. Plants gone, art gone, books gone, spices gone, smoke gone. Getting white and empty in here. It’s the awkward stage where we’re gone in our minds but still here in the flesh. (Although my body still revels in this sun and warmth).
What an odd three year story arc it’s been – Cleveland England Netherlands Poland Croatia Italy France Spain Morocco Mexico, and now back to Cleveland to live. I spent 29 years there–46% of my life. Looks like I’ll stay at least one more.
Once back, perhaps we can begin to put our journey in perspective. 31 months, 10 countries, 21 cities, 3 continents. Not sure how we’ve changed, but know we ain’t the same.
After all this, I figure Cleveland will be just one more foreign city to report on.
We watched Stranger Than Paradise last night. Wanted to see the actors standing in the blowing snow looking out at the iced-over Lake Erie to prepare us for returning to Cleveland winters. The scene where they drive by Tremont into Cleveland showed our old studio flat. Interesting scene because they’re supposed to be driving from the east, from New York City to Cleveland, yet in that scene they’re coming from the west, which is ass backwards.
