Happy Birthday, Lee, Peaceful Travels

Lee Alexander McQueen

March 17, 1969 ~ February 11, 2010

When I heard of Alexander McQueen's suicide I pulled out this image of his skinny legged jeans that I have carried with me for years. Why I keep these things I'll never know but once in awhile their relevance emerges. I love denim; the look and feel of it; it's color, practicality and adaptability. This is the image that made me to start paying attention to Alexander McQueen. They were the advance-guard of the current fascination with skinny leg jeans. I look at these incredible jeans and marvel at his show videos on his website, and my heart breaks a little more for the loss of this brilliant but troubled angel of dark and moody complexity.

I am not given to Gotham Chic and prefer clean, simple lines.

That I loved his work speaks to the allure of his immense artistry and skill. I was intrigued by the workings of his mind, the meticulous precision of his work and, of course, his breathtaking shows. His original blend of futuristic design, storytelling and technology created a self-contained world that we were allowed to observe. His shyly distracted appearances at the end of of his shows suggests that the audience was just one of those things that came with the heady turf he roamed. I had the feeling it would have been just as satisfying for him to present these grand spectacles to a small group of friends.

The recent passing of his mother and the suicide of his friend and mentor Isabella Blow in 2007 left him emotionally devastated. From everything I have read, these two women were his anchors. Without them, why not take his leave? What or who could keep him grounded in the pain of his loss? Not his brothers, sisters or father, not his thriving business nor the anticipation of continued creative output could keep him here on this earth. The loneliness must have been excruciating.

An 2004 article in The Guardian in which Joyce McQueen interviewed her famous son and youngest child reveals a mother and son who delighted in each other. From the image that heads the article by award-winning photographer Dan Chung to its content, it's clear that this mother and son delighted in one another. Ironically, his greatest fear was dying before her.

http://www.guardian.co.uk/culture/2004/apr/20/guesteditors

With a Sun, Moon and Mercury in Pisces and Scorpio ascending, McQueen embodied the deep mysteries of these two water signs. Pisces often expresses the urge to move beyond set boundaries, easily living in a dreamy other worldliness. Blended with the intense sensuality of Scorpio - and his aggressive Aries Venus - it's no surprise that the clothes he created for women were shrouded in ethereal mystery, witchy courage and confrontational sensuality.

I do not condone the taking of one's own life but I do believe there can be extenuating circumstances that render this physical experience unbearable. And also that there are people whose spirits are so expansive they can tolerate life in a human form but for so long. They arrive on this plane, make their mark and then move the heck on. I have read a bit about the current stressful astrological progressions in his life. With the loss of his mother and mentor, there were certainly many pressures overwhelming him. But if only he had been able to get through the next few months of grief and healing. With the jovial, expansive Jupiter moving through Pisces for a year bestowing good luck and blessings on the children born of that sign, things would most certainly gotten better for him. In just one more moment, help and lighter, better days were just around the corner...with just a little more time. I like to think so anyway.

But it was not to be for Alexander McQueen. Instead, we are left with Plato's Atlantis, his mysterious and magnificent Spring/Summer 2009 collection inspired by his love of deep sea diving. His alien looking models teetering on hoof-like shoes created a sensational uproar. How very Piscean of him.

http://www.alexandermcqueen.com/int/en/corporate/archive2010_ss_womensp.aspx

Images of McQueen's very last collection for women and, according to many, his most alluring and wearable, can also be seen at the above website. The brilliance this complicated artist will remain unparalleled for decades to come.

Peace,

LAFF

BRAVO OSCARS!

The Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences got it right!

I am thrilled that Kathryn Bigelow got the much deserved Best Director's award and that The Hurt Locker was awarded Best Picture. Many props to Mo'Nique on her win and especially for her acceptance speech, which made clear her priorities and celebrated her husband's wisdom. He's got to feel like the fiercest man on the block. A big shout out to Geoffrey Fletcher, the brother who won for adapting Sapphire's Push to the screen. While it would have been extraordinary for the Gabby to win best actress, it was nonetheless wonderful that Sandra Bullock received the honor.

All in all it was a great evening in spite of it being haunted by the spirit Kanye West.

Cheers

LAFF

Go, Bigelow, Go!

If you long for the days of real emotionally gut wrenching movie-making then Kathryn Bigelow's The Hurt Locker is the film to see. In it we are taken behind the scenes to follows a bomb disposal unit stationed in Baghdad, Iraq. These are the soldiers who seek and disarm road side bombs. With great sensitively the film captures the chaos and hopelessness of war as well as the madness of adrenaline addiction.

I loath war and haven't watched a war movie since my dad took our family to see The Guns of Navarone years ago. I walked out fifteen minutes into the screening. Even as a kid war images weirded me out. So what drew me to The Hurt Locker? First I was intrigued by the idea of a woman doing a war film and also that she is James Cameron's former wife and they are going head-to-head for Best Director and Best Film (okay, I confess, I can be as shallow as the next person). She did not disappoint.

I believe a film should haunt, linger in the heart and mind for a time and, at its most excellent, expand your world view. For my money, this year The Hurt Locker is that movie. Since seeing it, the mere mention of a 'bomb squad' causes its truth to flood my mind. I see the images and am once again reminded that as a species we must find another way to resolve conflicts, one that doesn't require bombs and guns and killing.

James Cameron spent $400 million to make a 3-D spectacle that has changed the movie-making game and will continue to generate a lot of loot in the industry (with that over the top budget this is the very least we should expect). But Kathryn Bigelow has accomplished something much deeper. With The Hurt Locker she reminds us of the painful complexity of war and how it destroys the human spirit. With poignant storytelling, she and script writer Mark Boal asks us to call forth our better selves and re-think the sacrifice we all suffer through war. There are no winners.

Kathryn Bigelow has more cojones than a football field full of guy movie executives and I applaud her for being so bold, so true and so gentle. I am greatly anticipating her acceptance speech for best director.

The Dinka's Avatar

Well, it's been a long while since I have written but I am back in time for Oscar Season! I've seen a number of them but have missed many. Besides Precious, the most intriguing film story is the directorial face-off between Avatar and The Hurt Locker by ex-spouses James Cameron and Katherine Bigelow,respectively.

Hands down, Avatar is the technical marvel of the season. Like everyone else I left the theater awed by its 3-D brilliance and wanting to see it again (I never did). But the brilliance of Avatar rapidly dimmed. It has been ultimately replaced by general irritation every time I hear Cameron's stoic pontifications about having to wait 30 years for technology to catch up to his vision and the film's political implications that we as a species must be mindful of the environment....blah, blah, blah.

What Cameron hasn't shared publicly is that he had no problem finding tons of creative inspiration for his story about the rescue of the environmentally and spiritually conscious Navi people by the white guy who "went native." This character, of course, ends up with the biggest, baddest flying animal. He defends the Navi and their nature/spirit-based world from the military industrial complex that wants their land for its own selfish economic purposes. Okay, we get it. We've lived it a million times over. It's the same story of victimization that every group of indigenous people on this planet can tell and here in the 21st century in this country we are still told that these people can only be saved by a courageously transformed member of an enemy clan. It's so exhausting.

These Dinka women of southern Sudan in this photograph by Angela Fisher wear beaded collars identical to that worn by Moat, the high priestess character. Adornment on the male characters can also be traced to the Dinka people. While more difficult to prove, I suspect the physical characteristics of the Navi were also inspired by the Dinka who tend to be extremely tall, lean and muscular. At 7'7", NBA star Manute Bol is a classic example of a Dinka man. Add dread locks and tails (I can't even deal with the tail thing) and you have the Navi. I wonder how much of the mega-millions that Cameron, et al., are making off of this film will go to hellp the people that so inspired his vision?

Presently hundreds of thousands of Dinka people are war refugees and have been flung as far and wide as Canada and the United States (see film Lost Boys of Sudan.) Human trafficking and slave trade continue to plague those who remain in Southern Sudan. Supermodel Alex Wek hails from the Dinka people. You can find segment of a BBC special about her return to her home at:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=m5Wo-bo9DE&feature=SeriesPlayList&p=3FFF38F321F9B023

What a little Avatar cash money could do to assist the Dinkas' plight.

I doubt that my cultural concerns matter much to James Cameron or The Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences when it comes to awarding or receiving an Oscar. I have found numerous film reviews that take Cameron to task about the predictable, shallow content of Avatar but none that specifically deal with his co-opting the Dinka's aesthetic. What would compel him to do so? I would anticipate a dismissive response claiming that all artists get their inspiration from somewhere. True, but the difference in this particular instance is that there is such a tremendous need. The film-going public certainly won't care. And who would tell them? Only a trained eye could recognize Dinka beadwork. Plus, we are notorious for the "entertain me" syndrome. Authenticity, cultural context, paying respects for origins of film image, thinking about the images that fill the screen before them...ah, not so much. What a sadly missed opportunity.

Happy Oscars

LAFF

Photo of Dinka man by Angela Fisher

Next: The Hurt Locker

Happy Birthday Dr. King

January 15, 1929 ~ April 4, 1968

Dr. King has been deeply on my mind. So, it has taken me a few extra days to log this post. I keep thinking about how much he accomplished during such a short life and how very young he was when he was taken from us. By the age of 39, he had put civil and human rights in the forefront of political and public discourse, forever changing how those inalienable rights are perceived, fought for and engaged. He was a leader among leaders; a son, a father and a husband chosen for a special task. He dared us to become better human beings. And he made the ultimate sacrifice, giving his life for this mission. For this I thank him and the many other sung and unsung heroes who were bold and courageous enough to stand in the face of danger, to have the audacity to make a difference.

Have we come far toward realizing Dr. King's Dream? Yes, in many ways. That America has a black First Family indicates that things have indeed changed. But we should not be lulled into thinking we now live in a post-racial America. Nothing could be further from the truth. We have but to look at the mean-spirited response to our President and his family to know that for as far as we have come, we have that much further to go. And God willing, we as a nation and as a world will keep walking towards the dream of equality for all; that somewhere deep within us we will step to the shared rhythm of one common heart beat.

I am hopeful, though guardedly so.

Happy Birthday, Dr. King. Thank you for your life-changing, life-giving contribution.

With love and gratitude,

LAFF

Old Movies, New Music

I have been deep under the weather with an awful cold. Burrr! It's frigid out and I have made good friends with my couch, You Tube and Hulu. In the last week I watched Bette Davis in Jezebel, Joan Crawford's A Woman's Face and Irene Dunne and Cary Grant in The Awful Truth and My Favorite Wife. Yesterday it was Truman Capote's Breakfast at Tiffany's with the amazing Audrey Hepburn wearing what has to be one of film's most timeless and iconic wardrobes created exclusively for her by Givenchy, her life-long friend.

But the most delicious watching I did was the complete first season of Steven Bochco's Murder One, a legal drama set in Los Angeles, circa 1995. Twenty-three episodes - one legal case - in three days. I was deep in it and it was really good. Daniel Benzali as defense attorney Teddy Hoffman faces off with the evil Richard Cross played by Stanley Tucci. Riveting.

A good buddy gave me an iTune gift card for Christmas. Thank you , Peter! I have been on an iTune rehabilitation diet of late. So, this was like receiving a huge box of Godiva chocolates. Yummmm! When not lost at the movies, I been on an iTunes musical exploration. A great discovery is the talented Maya Sona Jobarteh, a young Afro Brit born into one of the five great kora-playing, griot families of West Africa and the first classically trained female kora player from the Jobarteh family. The included photograph was taken by Owen Alik Shahadah, whose film 500 Years Later can be found on hulu.com. In it you can see Jobarteh playing kora.

Jobarteh is the granddaughter of the world-renowned, Amadu Bansang Jobarteh, master griot of his generation. Her cousin is the internationally celebrated kora player, Toumani Diabete. Musical visionary, Tunde Jegede, is her brother. I first became aware of him in the 90s in the film Africa I Remember, which follows his musical sojourn from England to West Africa and ultimately blending the classical music traditions of the two cultures.

Jobarteh's cd, Afro Acoustic Soul, combines a cool world music, Neo-Soul sensibility with the angelic sounds of her voice and the exquisite kora, a 21-stringed instrument from West Africa. She is FIERCE. You will want this cd in your collection and there's a new release due out this month. For more information on this exciting artist and on the kora, check out her website at:

http://www.sonajobarteh.com/index.html

Enjoy and stay warm

LAFF

HAPPY NEW YEAR!

Happy New Year!

Farewell to 2009. I don't know about you, but I am happy to put this one to rest and to greet 2010 - and a new decade - with joyful anticipation. And I am relieved that I made it through a year full of challenges, one that demanded that I re-think choices that I have made and develop a new game plan. A year in which some friendships have fallen away and others have deepened. There have been many rewards in the last 12 months and I am thankful for so many things. First and foremost is my family and loved ones, this tribe of colorful people that I belong to and that belong to me. They are my angels of laughter. And my health.

I am excited about this new year and decade. 2010!! It "feels" as though it holds a lot of promise. Maybe I'm just being optimistic but I believe it's as good a lens as any through which to view the world, as long as my feet remained firmly planted on the ground. My goal for the year is to stay in the present moment and not mentally run full of worry into a future that has yet to manifest, to be in a state of grace that allows life to unfold in all its mystery and magic. I think it should be a lot less complicated and infinitely more fun.

My wish for everyone is expansive creativity, unending abundance, vibrant health, love and laughter, safety and the resourcefulness to create the reality we want. May all of our dreams come true and our pockets be overflowing with coins - always, lots and lots of them.

I say special prayer for the many who left us this year and for all those who arrived. May we walk, live and love in peace.

With gratitude

LAFF

Happy Holidays!

Happy Holidays to you and yours. May the New Year

bring you vibrant health, true love and

abundance beyond all measure.

With Gratitude & Good Cheer

LAFF

Ode to Spunky Red

As you know, I am a big fan of Car Talk. So, I could not resist sharing something of Spunky Red's history and demise with ol' Click and Clack. Check her out at:

http://cartalk.com/content/album/


Click on 'View the Car Talk Listener Photo Album' and click 'next photo'. That's Mei-Kay on the roof in her official internet debut.

Cheers
LAFF

Out on a Limb...

For weeks a friend and I have been having intense conversations about taking risks, betting on ones own talents, stepping away from predictable comfort zones that can suck the very life out of you. We concluded that as artists we do not have a choice but to place the bet, take the risk, gamble on ourselves or live a miserable existence.

Then on Thanksgiving Day morning I was greeted this little bird sitting high atop the big tree in my front yard. She sat on her limb, preening and pecking, hardly conscious of her admirable ability to flit and fly safely from the heavens to the ground and back again. I thought, "Little bird your "out on a limb" is really different than mine." Then the thought came, "Or is it?"

I thought about the times I willfully stepped out on the limb. In each of the last four decades I have leaped from predictable, safe places to embrace the unknown. At barely 21 years old, I headed for Europe on a one-way ticket along with the throngs of other Baby Boomers that spread out over the planet, their lives stuffed in backpacks, duffel bags and down parkas. For a year I traveled from one end of the continent to the other. God bless my worried parents for the daily prayers they prayed for my safety.

The year I turned 30, Mount Saint Helen erupted and Ronald Regan was headed to the White House both of which I took as clear signs it was time to hit the road again. I sold everything I owned and like many other black American intellectuals, artist, musicians, and writers before me, I ventured to Paris, again on a one-way ticket. For two years the City of Lights bathed me in its intoxicating glow.

My 40's were spent in the power hub of the planet, Washington, DC, one of the world's great cities. I partook of the heady Clinton Party Years when money flowed freely and a grand time was had by all. For those ten years the Smithsonian Institution was my stomping grounds. It was a peak experience but when it's time to go, it's time to go and leave I did to find a place that would lure the artist in me

out into the open.

Just as Josephine Baker inspired my trek to Paris, Georgia O'Keeffe directed me to the Southwest. The mystery and enchantment of Santa Fe, New Mexico ushered in this decade, a little mountain town of less that 77,000 people that is one of the leading art markets in the country. The city overflows with creativity and everyday one can actually see magic happen. Here I found inspiration where ever my eyes rested and a fellowship among artists. But one should not be fooled by the charming pink adobe buildings with the soft edges. Santa Fe is a diva of a city full of complexities and she is demanding.

Here in Oklahoma, where I was born, I have gained a deep appreciation for the tough gene pool that is my birthright. I walk on the same lands traversed by my grandfather, Jesse Fortune, whose birth date I share, and all the ancestors that came before me. It is upon their broad shoulders I stand and they must have been some hardy, resilient Plains folks to survive this no-nonsense landscape. I am proud to have been born here but after two years I can fully understand wy my mother made her leap many years ago.

As we gear up for another decade I am walking out on a limb again, excited and a bit light-headed, prepared to take another risk that I will fill you in on later. The wisdom of my years requires more planning than my previous leaps of faith but leap I must confident that God, the Ultimate Safety Net, and all the many divine forces that protect and keep me will guide me to a safe landing.

Birds do fly and so, too, can we. The Divine Force that gives them the ability and ease to soar, to float on the wind, provides us with the same skill through our spirit, faith and a willingness to jump. We are no different than that little bird sitting on a limb contemplating the vast sky. Like birds, we can soar free, joyful, and safe from the ground to the heavens and back again. The gamble, the risk, being out on a limb is all part of the dance of our divine creativity.

Ultimately rewarding, these leaps off the limb are not easy. So, it's okay to shake in your boots. I do.

...and for all of this I am eternally grateful

LAFF

What leaps of faith have you made that you would like to share?