“Why are you always laughing? Sometimes I don’t even know what you’re laughing about! Sometimes it’s just mean!”
– Didn’t you get the memo?
“What? What memo?”
– It’s all a joke.
One day a monk walks up to him and asks, “What is the meaning of Zen?”
Smiling as usual, he instantly swung the sack over his shoulder.
“How does one realize Zen?” Budai then takes up his bag and continues on his way.
From Siddhartha “…Siddhartha replies that for every true statement there is an opposite one that is also true; that language and the confines of time lead people to adhere to one fixed belief that does not account for the fullness of the truth. Because nature works in a self-sustaining cycle, every entity carries in it the potential for its opposite and so the world must always be considered complete. Siddhartha simply urges people to identify and love the world in its completeness…”
To quote the original video that you can find here: “…although these communities cover nearly every hillside of the city, this somehow did not seem to be considered a legitimate part of it. They were feared, endured constant negative portrayal in the media, and suffered under heavy conflicts between drug gangs and police. Self-built and self-organized, to us the favela seemed to be full of creativity and hope. This made us think, then suddenly we had a crazy idea. What if we could paint all these houses in the communities into unifying designs. It could make the neighbourhood look more beautiful and as for attention: in a positive way. You could make people stop and look…and show the outside world what proud and vibrant communities favelas really are.”
I was at a Mexican restaurant at the west end of the city. On the front, they have their dining area and at the back, they have a place that turns into a venue at night (sometimes they hold their own events and sometimes it gets rented). I painted their archway and their windows. For a time being, they also let me do my own thing at the back. Every now and then I would get customers popping by and chat about my work.
One time, a family of Indian descent came to eat. The father/husband, came by to talk to me. He was an engineer and lived about half an hour away from the city (the far ‘burbs). He showed me some his paintings. Hi works were more on the realism/impressionism scale, but he appreciated all sorts of art nonetheless.
“Oh I really like that one.” I said as he showed me an impressionist work.
“I like your works too…”
“Yeah, realism isn’t really my strength…”
“Yes, but it’s distorted in a way that’s interesting. It’s also very lively and colourful. It reminds me of Picasso.”
“Yeah, yeah. I love doing this. I just don’t know how to make a living out of it.”
Have you wandered in the wilderness, the sagebrush desolation,
The bunch-grass levels where the cattle graze?
Have you whistled bits of rag-time at the end of all creation,
And learned to know the desert’s little ways?
Have you camped upon the foothills, have you galloped o’er the ranges,
Have you roamed the arid sun-lands through and through?
Have you chummed up with the mesa? Do you know its moods and changes?
Then listen to the Wild — it’s calling you.
– An except from the poem The Call Of The Wild – Poem by Robert William
When I’m maneuvering my way around the city (on foot, not on a longboard/bike/car) and there’s people in my way, I have a habit of just lightly tapping people on their arm or shoulder – if you’re standing in the way of a bus aisle or a sidewalk, I think that’s fair.
People do it to me too. It’s really not a big deal. It never has been.
Up until today…when some dude was standing in an aisle of a fairly empty bus so he can talk to his friends.
I didn’t mind – people have their own individual needs and reasons. On that note: what the reason was, is really none of my business.
As long as he gets out of my way so I can get to the back (where I intended to sit) – I’m happy. After all, this is common public urban courtesy, yes?
So I tapped him.
Aggressively he complains, with his “gangsta” attitude and arms flailing on about with a frowning face.
I took my earphones off, “What?”
“Don’t tap me! Say ‘Excuse me!'”
I put my earphones back on, “Oooookay!” with my arms flailing on about.
I’m sorry to have offended you.
We’re all in it together. I hope your feelings heal in time. Sincerely, LARRA_
PS. If you’re gonna be this wimp, get out of the city.