Five Million Dollar Fund

Saturday, February 27, 2010

Home is where the heart is.

I arrived back in Salt Lake City early in the month. Coming home was bitter sweet. My mind, body, and spirit are ready to go the distance. Others thought I should return. This venture has never been about Terry and has always been about building a community center. Therefore, I believe, it would be inappropriate to ignore our supporters, even arrogant, even though I strongly disagree sometimes.

Waking up in the morning next to Ruby is a tremendous feeling. She is, indeed, my one true love. Occasionally, I think, "oh we need to get home because we have to make sure Orion has something to eat, or something," then I remember he is not coming home. I am proud of him. College suits him well. He calls and we have long conversations about capitalism, communism, religion and life. he truly pushes the limits of my mind.

I am more convinced now than ever that we need to begin a community based revolution.We have to re-build our communities and build on models that work. We need to quit waiting for heroes and saviors to come down into our community and make them better, and we need to acknowledge to ourselves, for one reason or another, either complacency, hatred, greed, or indifference, there are many people who are content with the status quo and willing to sacrifice or ignore the needs of some communities. We should welcome all help, even those whose intentions are good, if even, misdirected, because they are reaching out. We should, however, put none of our effort towards changing people and direct all that energy, instead, into building communities that thrive, working with our youth. This is the world that we have made and it is our responsibility.

I left on a bike ride to raise money to create a permanent change in the community. Many supported, many criticized, many laughed. Still, we have no permanent space in our community that acknowledges our youth and communities for who they are and seeks to prepare them and really challenge the existing inequities with remedies that does not consider our youth and communities as deficit. For this reason, our youth and communities suffer. In my heart, I believe it is important for us to build one place, on our own, and remind ourselves and our communities that we are not so powerless we have to roll over and accept what is left to us, that we are indeed capable of making change.

It is my intention, to spend a year preparing, writing, and planning, for this bike ride and to take our message to communities everywhere, again. I felt it was extremely successful. For me, it is symbolic in my own willingness to go beyond my own ability and realize that as a human being I have a responsibility. I will go alone, play the fool, if need be, or I will go in concert with many. For me, it is not really about anything except that my community and my frustrations and my efforts are not the excuses I will use to deflect my own responsibility in these efforts. I don't believe any plan is too big, too ambitious, or too difficult, and indeed, anyone who would suggest otherwise is encouraging us all to be too weak-hearted and think too little of our own capabilities or worth. Our communities are too beautiful to think otherwise. If people really believe my efforts are too ludicrous, and that is the excuse they use to deflect their own responsibility in their service of human rights, equality, and community building, nothing I could ever do would change that. If they were truly motivated by a desire for change, equality, and human rights, then nothing I could do would change that, they would simply disagree with my methods, or goals, and create their own. Criticism should never be confused with contribution. I am simply one person who looks around, sees the world he lives in, as it is, and sees that it could be better, and I am willing to start in a direction with a vision. Walk with me, walk with others, create another path, do what you need to do. Please, don't let any criticism of me, or us, or our efforts be the excuse that contributes to complacency.

The five million dollar fund will persist until we have achieve our goals of a permanent community art center in this neighborhood. When that is complete. I hope to do another. Love is a verb; it require action.

I am encouraging us all to join in a community based revolution and rebuild our country, our continent and our world, one neighborhood, one community, one village at a time.

Monday, February 1, 2010

And the beat goes on...

Leaving San Francisco was hard and heading back to Salt Lake. It is very difficult to explain, but in my heart I know the majority of what we confront in building an institution like the one we are building has very little to do with money, ability and resources. The money is there, the ability is there. What lacks is true belief that it is possible, that we are capable, and we are worth it. To me, this ride has made that ever more transparent. From that chisme grows, people step forward half-heartily, or become suspicious. When a person turns inward though and says, damn, I am worth it and capable, we are worth it, the whole world shifts. All that energy is directed toward realization rather than criticism. I have witnessed this on this ride many times, most profoundly in Xico's class. It is a true sin to teach our youth to be suspicious of themselves, we should build every barrier we can to obstruct that one idea.

Finally, I decided to see some music. During the night I attended a concert raising money for Haiti. It was beautiful. One Haitian band sang a song titled "Haiti, I love you." Phenomenal! The following night I went back to the Poppy to hear a small Jazz combo whose singer sang his original French songs inspired by his Jewish heritage. God it was great to listen to music and experience art again.

I rode the city! I climbed the hills! I dreamed of a new life here with Ruby. Here, it seemed, art was the cake and not the icing. Culture was a fact, not something to be debated. I get tired of the hostility in Utah and the need to always defend a position, especially around issues of diversity. Here, it seemed we could spend more time doing what we do, rather than trying to explain why we do what we do. So it seemed, but nothing is ever as it seems.

Melita and Kevin put me up for a few nights and treated me well. Kevin is a courier and photographer. Melita teaches and is an artist as well. Her cousin Ale lives with them who makes film. I love being around creative people. I love to create. Art heals, makes people whole, makes me human again.

I then moved over to Monica's and her partner. We talked about politics. He leaned to the right and I to the left. In the middle we decided we needed to audit the government and publish it :) I spent the days at north Beach and City Lights Books. I have a feeling that Keruoac was onoxious. :)

I have thought long and hard about the five million dollar fund. I have listened and meditated on its flaws. I have truly heard peoples concerns and grievances. I know what we must do in my heart. I know many people agree with me. The flaw of the five million dollar fund is not that it was too big, but that it is too small and we are too big! This is a time of reflection and putting our house in order and preparing to begin again. We need to build these everywhere! We really need to begin a community building revolution! I know this is true! We need to create the five million dollar fund as a rotating idea that builds one in our community, the next, the next and the next, all over the country, all over the world. My god it amazes me that I thought so little of ourselves, that I thought so small. Art heals, communities create, we are beautiful and capable!

I LOVE SAN FRANCISCO! And the most beautiful thing about Salt Lake is waiting through my front door!

I spent my last day with Donna, Rick, debbie and family, and Orion. They came down to say goodbye. We bought books at City Lights, ate in North Beach and then cruised to Ocean Beach. I talked to the water and held our son. You are doing it kid! You make your papi proud! I love the ocean.

Thanks Melita, Kevin, Ale, Monica, Donna, Rick, Todd everyone. It was the perfect punctuation to this journey. Chapter 2 is on its way.
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Wednesday, January 27, 2010

Roger and Me

San Francisco calls out to people, especially young people, "Come live here, you belong, we can squeeze you in." The city is dense. It desires to rise upward like New York, but fears the quaking Earth of the West Coast. Buildings reach about three to four stories and stop, not just close to the center though, all across the peninsula. Thus far, out of the hundred or so people that I have talked to only two have been from here. Every city has its culture. San Francisco is the only one I can honestly define as hip, Portland would be hippie. It's a wonder that it is not more bike oriented, especially with all the consciousness around recycling. You would think with such a perfect climate and social awareness more people would park their cars. When I move through the area and meet people I often think of Gina and David. It is strange, but I can now feel San Francisco on them, like they come from here. There is also this easiness around otherness that I haven't encountered in other places, except maybe for a few young students in Tacoma. Everyone, at least those that I have met, belongs to an eclectic community that easily transcends what would be cultural barriers in other places. I guess here, the primary barrier is education. Divisions exist quite tranparently between the educated and the un-educated, that brings out a little resentment in me. Even so, I love the city and its people. It's quite beautiful and throughout the day as the light changes, or the rain subsides, or the sun arrives, it changes its mood, its appearrance, almost like a beautifully hip woman with an extensive wardrobe that likes to dress for each occasion, sometimes changing her clothes three times in a day.

I awoke in the hammock in the loft at Red Poppy. I started off late because I had few appointments. My cold lingers. I emailed Roger Housden a couple of days ago. He wrote many books, but one that has been my guide along the journey, Ten Poems to Change Your Life. I decided to take a me day and left the mission, crossed over the pan handle, and rode through the Golden Gate Park. Roger lived in Sausalito on the other side of the bridge. On my way, I could not find the path through the upper park and it was against the law to ride along Highway 1. I met a man, Evan, who was riding out to the bridge and said he would show me the way. We talked while we rode. Evan had worked at a Buddhist monestary for ten years and was tired of it and quit. He was now looking for another job. I thought it was funny that a man worked for Zen monks for ten years and felt like he was getting nowhere; you got to love the irony. At the bridge he placed 40 dollars in my hand and told me to eat well for a couple of days and rode on. That was quite refreshing. I had been surving on one meal a day and cereal bars for the last week. I rode into Sausalito and ate a burger at a cafe that overlooked the bay and a Marina, damn it tasted good. At 3:00 I continued up the street to Roger's house.

Roger and I visited for about an hour and half and shared coffee. I could tell it pleased him to hear about my journey and the way his book inspired and guided me along the way. I think it is the book that was absent from my education. I reccomend it to everyone. He is a tall Londoner, living in a small hidden house nestled behind others in the hills of Sausalito. His place was cozy, not extravagant. Too little time, I was interested in his career as a writer and how he arrived here. He was interested in the stories of this bike ride. At one point he turned to me and said, "Sounds like you have a book." That was nice, because I wasn't begging the question, but it was what my soul wanted to hear. I left and stepped out onto the sidewalk on the crooked hill. Across the bay, the clouds broke and the sunlight colored the city. I recieved a call from a friend that I just received a small grant. Everyday I wrestle with the question, "Should I continue or go home?" The grant whispered, "Go forward." I thought about it, whichever way I am facing is forward. Exactly! You see, the seccret signs are even to obscure.

I crossed the Golden Gate again and took a picture of the place where Hitchcock filmed part of Rear Window down by the water. I then dropped down next to the bay and, with the sunsetting, I rode along a bike path at the water's edge and listening to the lapping water at heal of the city I imagined Ruby riding along with me. I could imagine the way she would love this ride, her contentment, her smile, her laughter, and the ways her eyes smile when she is happy. I called Ruby. We spoke on the phone while I rode around the bay. Today, we talked very little business and talked to each other. It was nice. We agree, people think we should be happy about having crumbs, but we are looking at the pie now. This center is going to happen, with us, despite us, whatever. It is growing. Tomorrow is a fundraising day. Today is a day to ride the bay and talk with Ruby, to be in love.

When Ruby got off the phone, I cut up through the hills and crossed the city. Damn, how I wanted to ride this city with her. I liked the streets, the shops, the hills, the houses, the people, the people, the people. I arrived back at The Red Poppy and had to pack my things to go to Melita's place, my home for the next three days. At the Red Poppy Meklit sat finishing some work. We talked briefly about music and such. She then put on a recording she just finished to let me hear. Wow! I do believe she has one of the sweetest voices on the planet. Her music! Her voice sank into my heart and I thought about Orion at College, Ruby at home, our life together, mom, and riding along the bay. Meklit seemed too young to sing so deeply. She seemed too happy, unscathed. I though about the writing I used to do in LA and in my heart I knew that Meklit was a star, not a pop-star, but a true artist, original, classy, talented. I know one day I will spend money to see her sing. The Red Poppy continues to amaze me with it's talent and personalities. Todd has outdone himself.

Some people lately keep sending me messages that this ride is quixotic, as if to persuade me I am on the wrong path, but I love Don Quixote. You know the Hispanic Chamber in Utah each year gives a Quixote award for small succeeding businesses. How appropriate! To believe in something so foolish, and see it come to fruition. Utah needs this center, Salt Lake needs it. This is not a question of me, Ruby, us, or them. We must build infrastructure with a new paradigm in our city. There is no reason our neighborhoods and communities should be excluded from shaping the story of Utah, of defining who we are, of helping to determine and point the pathway forward, and helping better to explain the story from which we came. We have a lot to offer and share and the city will only be more complete and better qualified to step forward by creating institutions like the one we are instigating. In my life, I have never been able to afford a ticket to the symphony or the opera. Yet, as a city we fund those organizations because we believe in the power of art. I have no objections to their existence and truly believe, despite my lack, that the city is better off with them than without them. I, therefore, do not complain about my tax dollars going to support those high end institutions. I am also aware that they do not exist on ZAP funds alone. Even so, because as a citizen I am willing to generously offer my money to create institutions, which will serve mostly other people than my community, I have no qualms about asking those people to equally share and help us build institutions that express other narratives, other ideas about art and it's place in society, and really other views, to share in the creation of institutions that speak to lives, dreams, struggles, and tastes of our communities, and most importantly create a place where we can participate despite our economic circumstances. We believe in the power of art to change lives and build community. So when we say 5,000,000 for an art center that will serve the city at large and thousands of local residents on a weekly basis, and then I look where we spend other monies and who bennefits and why and how many, I have to ask myself really, "Shouldn't we be trying to raise more?" 5 million is humble and trivial in the spectrum, and we are further carrying the mission of the state, the city and the art and humanity councils forward in so many ways. 5 million is so little, really. Let's be honest. This is not for us, it is for our city and our communities, help us build. Please do not ask us to focus on the crumbs when we can see the pie.

Thanks Todd for the food and a place to sleep.

Thanks Evan for the food.

Thanks everyone.

Thanks Ruby for everything, for being you.

I miss you Orion

Love you Mom, sis.

Mestizo still has the best Cappucinos.

Sunday, January 24, 2010

burning fire in my chest

This morning I rode with Lorraine down to Pacifica. She showed me a cafe where she likes to sit and write on occasions. There, over coffee, we talked a while about decisions, intuitions, and responsibilities. Before leaving we climbed over the rocks and onto the beach. I stood with her a while and talked to the water. The waves were enormous and crashed and thundered as they broke on the beach. That's where I came from, I thought. The ocean, its sound, its immensity, its majesty always leaves me mesmerized. It calls to me like a long lost friend. I am not part of anything anymore when I stand in front of its enormity; I am a part of everything!

I have not been able to accomplish much in San Francisco thus far. Ihave been ill and I am still recovering. I have felt weak and tired. I think I might finally kick this thing. Now, I am turning my attention to sponsors. Trying to find sponsors for the ride as well as other opportunities.

I met Noemi today in the mission district and she introduced me to Todd and the Red Poppy Art House. I will stay there for the next few days. I have sleeping options for the rest of my stay, but food is still a mystery. This has become a real challenge. Sponsorship is increasingly more important.

Last night I lay in bed thinking about St. John of the Cross and the way he saw God in everything, in himself, in his heart. For Saint John we were all God and he referred to himself, as he watched his own self sleep, as the Beloved. I see beauty in everything lately. I thought about Arnold again and the Ocean. I left some tobacco in the grass at Lorraine's. My bike is covered in Tobacco prayers. Sometimes I believe in nothing. Some days everything seems sacred. Some days I think both are true at the same time.

I am riding because it is important to remember that the ridiculously impossible is possible. It is time to quit staring at the crumbs and look at the pie. From this ride we will build a community art center. That's what I know to be true.

Thanks Lorraine for friendship, food and shelter. Thanks Noemi for the hookup. Ruby and Orion, all my love, my life.
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Thursday, January 21, 2010

Golden Gate

We left San Rafael late, around 11:30, both Manuel and I had colds and tried to get as much sleep as possible and we only had to ride 23 more miles to our destination, 16 to the Golden Gate. Greg rode alongside us and Manny Jr. followed in a truck. We took side roads and bike paths that climbed steep forested roads through lush neighborhoods and at times the trees gave way to reveal the great bay, sailboats docked in marinas, the city blanketed over the peninsula, and the grandeur of the golden gate bridge. We rode through the rain and down green landscape on fine roads past luxurious houses. When we crossed into Larkspur I was dumbfounded at the beauty and splendor of the town. We passed an old catholic church. Next to it was a girl's school. On the play ground were hundreds of elementary school girls in uniform. They were engaged in some large school activity, running and shouting. Laughter roared from the playground, genuine happiness. We continued on about another half mile and found a lost puppy. We called and waited for the owner. She came running and thanked us. I gave her a postcard about the ride. I want to believe she payed attention. We rode on through the old area of Larkspur and the shear beauty and cleanness of the place made me sad for a moment. I wanted to step back 15 years, extrapolate Ruby, Orion and myself from our lives and set us down in Larkspur. I wanted to give rest us in this sleepy elegant town. I wanted Orion to run on the playground and laugh heartily. And then I remember, rich people kill themselves too. It would be nice though, to walk out one of these doors in the morning, and walk down to a coffeehouse, and think about a boat in the Marina.

We continued on until the area broke and we found a bike path running along a river that spilled into the bay. We paralleled that until we come to the town Sausalito with shops and homes that reached out and touched the sail boats docked in the Marinas. Manuel took pictures, he was ecstatic. My phone was dead and I couldn't take anymore. A short distance later we climbed the last hill and reached the Golden Gate Bridge. We stopped at the look out and relished our journey as the wind and rain whipped at us. We were proud! "This has changed my life," Manuel said. He was full of hope. I was full of hope. He and has two boys had changed mine even more. For the weekend, we were four believers riding against the wind and rain.

We crossed the bridge, pedaling hard against the wind. On the other side we met up with Manny Junior. Lorraine Garcia - Nakata (RCAF) offered to host me when I arrived to the city so we made our way towards her house, at first by running along the Golden Gate park and then cutting up to traverse five miles of San Francisco hills. We stopped and warmed ourselves in a coffeehouse on Ocean, then met up with Lorraine. San Francisco!

After three very wet days of riding we were dry again. To our delight, Lorraine prepared dinner for all of us. We devoured the meal fighting off a cold, the cold, and tired legs. We talked about art, change, happiness and individual responsibility. I feel ver lucky to have met Lorraine. I feel as though we should be cooking for her.

After dinner I said goodbye to Manny and his boys. It was a real treat having them along. It was great to see a father adventuring with his sons. I am already missing my boy, Orion. Manny has a genuine spirit full of kindness that has left its mark on his sons. When he said goodbye I saw tears pooling in his eyes. He too is inspired. I will surely miss all of them. They had received pledges to ride with me and raised money for every mile they rode. We could ride together a while. The kids had school though and he made a father's choice. I am forever grateful for their kindness. Such a short time to become such good friends. Gente!

Thanks Manny, Manny Jr. And Greg. It was a true joy. Que te vaya bien!
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Monday, January 18, 2010

Yesterday we all gathered over at Spanglish in Sacramento. A small group of people was there with us. Ebers, Manny, and his two sons rode with me. We left out past the Capitol. On the way from Sac to Davis, Greg's tire cuaght an edge in a groove in the road and he hit the pavement. We arrived at Rick and Donna's in Davis and ate lunch and doctored Greg's elbow. I said goodbye to Melissa and Steve, Rick and Donna, and then my boy Orion. Going to miss him.

We left Davis, rode across to Winters and then left the Sac Valley as we headed into Wine country towards Napa. Rain poured on us throughout the day. The skies were gray. The fields were green. Outside of Winters two long legged birds stood in a field, kind of mesmerizing.

Luis set us up a place with his friend Orlando in Napa. We arrived around 5 and Orlando, his partner, Angela and her friend had prepared shrimp pasta. We played dominos and went to bed early. I am trying to kick a severe cold and the rain doesn't help.

The last few weeks have been great, but trying. Really want to sleep in my own bed, but I really want to build this center. So much to do. It's hard to get people behind a common goal, no matter how decent the goal is.

Thanks Orlando, Angela and Allison for food friendship and a place to stay.

Thanks Meli and Steve for everything, support, friendship and you name it, watch out for my boy. Thanks Rick and Donna and Xico for all your support and friendship and taking care of Orion. Bye Natalia and Caleb, let's adventure sometime.

Goodbye Sac and Davis!

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Friday, January 15, 2010

Talking about Arnold without his permission even though I don't know him very well.

When Lu suggested I speak to Arnold about the ride before I left, I thought about it a while, then called another friend, Forest who thought it would be good to talk to Arnold as well. I looked up Arnold and did some reading about him; I learned that he shot himself in the head 20 years prior (not telling anything he doesn't say). I quickly understood that he knew something about life that would benefit me and aide me in this journey. When he spoke I could hear him. His voice was quite and authoritative without being arrogant, loaded with compassion. And when he spoke he said. "The way I was taught was that..." and he explained what he was going to do next without any certainty, but a trust in what he had learned and from whom he had learned it. He was honest. The entire journey I could not put my finger on what it was that allowed him to get through to me. And now I know, I listened. And now I know, tonight, after visiting Xico's class something about what I think he understands.

My life, like everyone else's I suppose, has not been easy and I have had my own share of troubles. I have been beaten, desperate, alone and wary. I have hated myself and been desolate in every sense of the word. I have walked through the valley. And luckily, I have had the good fortune to climb the mountain. And today, I summited and looked over the peak.

In presenting at Xico's class to about a 120 students I was humbled. Near the end of the presentation students stood up one by one and walked down there aisles and laid 1s, 5s and 20 dollar bills on the table offering support to our vision. They left 165 dollars on the table. I was dumbfounded and truly lost in the decency and hope that these young kids carry in their heart. It made me think that perhaps Arnold has grown accustom to noticing that first in the people he meets and that is the reason that it was so easy to listen to him, to hear him. I can still hear him now. But I don't know him very well and I am just speculating, but I think I know him well anyway.

When we left and walked across the campus Xico offered me a piece of sage he had picked earlier that day along the river. It was fresh and sill held the sweet smell of the desert. I held it to my nose breathed the aroma deeply until I held it in my heart. I thought of the night I left and Arnold and has burning sage. I thought of Xico standing in the class calling out "Despierta! Despierta!" Wake up! I thought of Orion plucking his guitar. I thought about Ruby and my life. And I thought about the students. Despierta! I'm awake and standing on the summit. I can see! At least for now.

Thanks to Chicano Studies 10 at UC Davis. Thanks to Donna and Rick for fighting the good fight. Thanks to Meli and Steve. Thanks to Natalia and Caleb for the movies. Thanks to everyone back home. Thanks Xico! Sometimes a piece of sage is much more than a piece of sage.
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