I’d like to start todays blog entry by talking about immigration. I’ve been thinking about it a lot. Someone important to me is directly effected by the twisted immigration system in our country, so it’s on my mind. Over the past few months it seemed as though Congress was getting closer to passing an immigration bill, however racist and fucked up the writing of this bill was. And now as I start this blog tonight, it looks as though the bill has been set aside, again, and this time for maybe the rest of the year, or at least until Bush is out of office or a new Congress is elected. The Democrats and Republicans are both to blame. It’s totally fucked up and I’ve written to my two Senators, Hillary Clinton and Chuck Schumer to tell them that. Do you think contacting ones designated representative, wether through telephone, letter or email, does any good? I mean, how can it? I wonder how members of Congress receive their correspondance, and if it has any kind of impact. Do they just get a checklist each day from a secretary stating what emails, phone calls and letters came in and what the topic was? Anyway, immigration, if you fee like it and you have a moment, contact your Congress person and tell them you want them to pass a comprehensive, compassionate and smart immigration bill for this country. Who knows if they’ll get your email or letter, but stilI.
Enough about the futile, immigration problems in the United States and back to my artist residency in the French West Indies. I stayed up late last night, working. When it was bout 2:00AM I went inside, turned on the air conditioner, killed any stray mosquitos in my room and watched an episode of the show, Dexter, on my computer. It’s a story on Showtime about a serial killer, I didn’t think it was very good, but I’m going to give it a second chance and watch another episode tonight. I made a frozen pizza for dinner that I got at a grocery store called Match, which is across from the tiny airport. They have some better produce and so I got a green pepper that I sliced and put on the frozen pizza. Once you add something to a frozen pizza, like I did with the green pepper, it’s no longer a ‘frozen pizza’, it’s now personalized and ‘homemade’. It wasn’t bad because it was one of those, semi-fresh-frozen pizzas that was made in the last couple days. The crust was thin, not big and bloated. Down the dairy aisle I noticed this weird kid food that had an identity crisis, I think its cheese but looks like a popsicle or an ice cream treat. Its called, “Kidiboo”, and the mascot is a sinister little ghost, take a look:
and next to that was, “Yag-Go” which I assume is yogurt. It has a mascot that looks like he could be related to Kidiboo, but Yag-Go looks dumber, happier and less aggressive than Kidiboo....see here:
This store also had some good bread:
Wow, this blog entry today is really boring, let’s spice it up a bit and get to the nudity.
I woke today and went to Saline beach again, my designated favorite beach. Today there were only about 8 or 10 people on the entire beach, some couples and some singles. Half were probably nude. I went in and splashed around a bit until I saw something in the water, which is really unusual because there is absolutely nothing in the water here. I soon found out it was only someone’s shirt, it spooked me so I got out of the water an lay down in the sun for a bit. When I got on my towel I thought, fuck it, I’m taking off the shorts. After about 5 minutes of laying around, to my amazement, I got up and walked to the water, completely nude, and got in. I think the reason I was able to get over my modesty so quickly was because there were hardly any people on the beach, and half of them were nude, and I was by myself. I’ve swam nude before and been on nude beaches, but I can probably count the number of times on one hand. Anyway, now I think I’m addicted and I’m going to go nude to Saline beach every day that I’m here. You have to go to the beach here every day anyway, even if it’s for a half hour, it’s like, mandatory. Unlike living in a city like New York, where when you want to go to the beach you have to pack up and make an entire day of it - here it can be a break in between doing things. You can also go to the beach more than once a day, and to different beaches, and it works out fine. It’s crazy.
At Saline beach today I noticed at one end, there is an outcropping of rocks and if you cross it, there is a small piece of beach kind of by itself. I saw two guys walk over the rocks to get to it, each by themselves, and I though, gosh, maybe that’s the gay zone. There are no signs of the gays here on St. Barth. I even Googled it. And I haven’t seen hide nor hair of any fags in the week that I’ve been here, nary a one.....except for one of the waiters at a pizza place we went to last week, but I decided he didn’t really count for some reason. There are many motorbikes on the island, they are easier than cars, and lot’s of attractive, shirtless guys zooming around on them, but they’re all straight. It’s the off season so it’s much quieter than it would be in the winter here, but still, it’s weird, could I be the only gay here? Impossible. Someone told me that there are large scale, endangered iguanas on the island, you know, like those big ones you see in National Geographic that sit on rocks at the beach, in the sun, about the size of a dog.....maybe that outcropping of rocks at Saline beach really is the gay zone, where the gays sit, endangered, scarce. Or then again, maybe it’s not. Nevertheless, its curious. You know how the gays love their sun and fun, you’d think this place would be crawling with them.
There are lot’s of little kids hanging out at the end of the road from the house, darting in and out of the bushes. By kids I mean, baby goats. They are really cute and someone told me they were wild. It doesn’t seem likely, but perhaps they are, wild. When I stand at the edge of the porch and watch the cars drive up the steep incline, once in a while I see one of the goats run across the road. I hope they don’t get hit. They are all different colors, white, brown and black....really pretty. I’m going to try to pet them one of these days when I venture on a walk down the long hill to the main road. There isn’t much walking here as mentioned in earlier blog entries because there are no sidewalks and the twists and tuns of the roads would be dangerous for pedestrians. I took a movie while I was driving up the hill to the house - if you have your sound on, the music is from the radio, a crazy French station.
press play:
People hitchhike here too. Apparently its safe. Mostly it’s teenagers who don’t have cars, but I see adults as well, walking with their thumb in the air. It’s very nostalgic to see. I remember my father hitchhiking in the early seventies, I think I remember hitchhiking with him as well. I also remember riding on the back of a MOPED that he was driving, all the way from the small town I grew up in in Connecticut to Providence, Rhode Island in the winter, to see a friend of his. He was probably drunk too. Anyway, I’m off topic. Maya, the artist that was here before I arrived, told me that she picked up a hitchhiker and encouraged me to do so as well. But she told me the one she picked up was a guy that only spoke French which she doesn’t speak, so it was awkward. Yesterday, I saw a black woman, about 40, with a long, colorful skirt on, hitchhiking. I almost picked her up but didn’t get the conviction to do so until I had already passed her. I was going to go back and offer her a ride but I thought I looked weird and suspicious if I actually turned around to go back and get her. So I kept going. I should have gone back and given her a ride. Oh well. I don’t speak French either and I don’t want to get into any awkward moments. As I write this, maybe I should try my luck at being the hitchhiker instead of the hitchhikee.....maybe try to bum a ride into town one of these days, for fun.
Here is a photo of the table I sit at right now, as photographed this morning. On it is my computer, bug spray, power adapter, eggs for breakfast, coffee, water bottle, cell phone, pad of paper and the electrified mosquito swatter:
My acrylics are thickly applied on paper and they are having a hard time drying here so I hung them in the sun....so here’s a picture of me literally watching paint dry:
That’s all for tonight. I’ll leave you with this photo:
Avo
When you descend onto saline, make sure you turn right, if there are any gays, you will find them there. Funny how gay men find the beach and the area where the gays might congregate on their own. Are we that intuitive or just horny?
Friday, June 8, 2007 - 08:22 AM
Chris
I have been waiting for a picture of that mosquito swatter!!!!
Friday, June 8, 2007 - 10:25 AM
mmmmmmmmaya
i am sooo jealous, naked on Saline beach.. it really doesn't get any better then that.
i m also proud of you for swimming in the pool. that video is really nice... looks like your next art project too.
i miss you.
Friday, June 8, 2007 - 11:00 AM
Tim
Kidiboo looks evil......... and those mosquito swatters sure would come in handy here in Provincetown...... seems like there's a good market for them in the US period. Hmmmm.......
Saturday, June 9, 2007 - 01:49 PM
