With Success Comes Great Responsibility

Death is a subject no one likes to think or talk about…..out loud at least. Death is the most commonly feared concept in the world but it seems that everyone is indestructible until they are destructed. I don’t mean to bog down my post with heavy subjects but I lost someone very close to me this weekend, in the streets of my beloved Miami. A car accident stole my loved one from me and I just want to take the opportunity to stress the dangers of drunk driving.

Everyone experiences stressors or anxieties, and peopleoften look to alcohol and drugs as a means of escape.  Miami is an escape in itself, full of beauty and fun, but fun should never outweigh the importance of safety and responsibility. The cost of a taxi is much less than the cost of a DUI or, worse, the death of you or someone else. Escaping from your anxieties and a fun night out can end in tragic and devastating effects. Why escape all anxieties through alcohol to only create more anxieties for more people by driving while under the influence? This creates a vicious cycle between escape and contribution. Make conscious decisions and enjoy your time, but do it responsibly. As I’ve reiterated through William Bejamin’s concept of presence and time and space; be present…be smart. Create works of art through every step of your life, do not disrupt the beautiful concept of aura.

Theater of the Mind

The city of Miami is where I found my first love... but sometimes I wonder if it was even real. My memories of him are so distant and intangible. I think I have subconsciously separated my memory of him from my idea of my beloved Miami, in order to prevent my heart from constant agony.  All photos, keepsakes, gifts, videos and tangible interactions have been destroyed for years; any inkling of our memory resides in my mind and is slowly fading.  This theatrical nonsense is so surreal. I recreate memories and manipulate them at my leisure. I have lost the consciousness of truth within my theater of memory. I question whether he ever even existed at all. And if he did, were we truly in love?

In “The Work of Art in Mechanical Reproduction” Walter Benjamin explains the loss of “aura” as a result of the reproduction of works of art. “Even the most perfect reproduction of a work of art is lacking in one element: its presence in time and space, its unique existence at the place where it happens to be.”

Love is a work of art.

As I continuously try to recreate memories of him while simultaneously trying to block them out, all magic and beauty of LOVE is lost. We no longer share the all-powerful aura of love. The electricity that once wired itself through the veins of him and I is no longer in circuit. My "perfect" reproduction of our love is lacking in one element: its presence in time and space, its unique existence at the place where it happens to be. 

...& Now You're Mine

According to the Spirit Daily, "as many as one out of every ten residents in the Miami metro area dabbles in a form of voodoo known as Santeria." This concept is nothing new to me, I've heard about the spiritual practices in Miami since I was young. It's no town secret. But as I've grown up I've become increasingly more interested in what exactly Santeria is and why it's so commonly practiced in Miami. Characterized by sorcery and spiritual possession, voodoo is a subject of taboo.

Voodoo is used to define spiritual practice in which the magic that is effected through the gris-gris objects and invocations, is solely the work of spirits. Santeria is similar to voodoo, and both come from the same religious tradition, Vodun. The major difference is the substitution of Spanish influence for French influence. Santeria is common within the Cuban community, which heavily populates Miami.

But who am I to judge?

I just don't understand it. 

Why are goats and chickens washing ashore?

Why are headless goats being found in Biscayne Bay?

One out of every ten. Ten percent of the people I interact with believe in the same religion or practice as the extremists dumping goats into the Bay. Maybe one out of ten people aren't decapitating goats in their backyards but how can you tell who is?

Sometimes I like to stroll through Miami and observe the people around me.

I like to watch people and try and decipher their motives. thoughts. history. 

Are they good people? Do they practice voodoo? Does voodoo make you a bad person?

My observations turn to surreal analyses. 

I wonder how many of these people have cut off a goat's head. 

A chicken's?

According to the statistic, at least one of the people in this photo "dabble in a form of voodoo." 

I say it's the little girl in the purple shirt. She definitely does voodoo.

Just kidding.

In Nadja by Andre Breton, Nadja's mother, like me, likes to sit on the metro and observe the people around her. Breton doesn't find people going or coming from work on the metro interesting. I bet he would if he knew one out of every ten people on the metro were decapitating goats in their free time.

Is it true that the beyond, that everything beyond is here in this life?

I can’t hear you.  Who goes there?  Is it only me?