Last week, I had a chance to attend the National Jubilee Arts Festival in Los Angeles as a judge. I judged visual art and performances. Above, you can see some photos from the gallery. What a beautiful event, in which a community came together to celebrate and encourage art making. My friend Karim Gowani asked if I'd like to judge some of the art and I'm glad I did. It was very inspiring to see the outpouring of volunteers and members of the Ismaili community celebrating their values through art. Judging was certainly challenging, as there was a lot of beautiful work. What I enjoyed most was talking to artists and people just there to enjoy art and support while I walked around the gallery. Thanks to Shamim, Farzana, Karim and all the other wonderful volunteers and artists who worked so hard to put it all together. I hope this is the first of many. Good luck to all those who passed this round and on to the next in Lisbon, but I hope that regardless of how a piece 'scored' that it is the thought and the process of creating that really matter.
Today, for the third time, I shared Thanksgiving in Long Beach, at a Drop in for people in need. I sat at the gratitude table along with Norma and stacks or art supplies in a Church, to share with people in writing and drawing things they are grateful for on this day.
One of those “dirty”, “lazy”, protesters? A veteran?
but after taking away several peaceful protestors.
Today I went to a protest in downtown Los Angeles, part of the Occupy LA protests in support of the nationwide Occupy Wall Street protests. I took the bus in, and ended up getting out a few blocks away. I walked up and already there was a growing police presence in the area. Was there a riot going on? Were the expensive bank buildings and luxury hotels in danger from a mob of angry, dirty people frothing at the mouth?I walked a little closer to see if I could spot one of the "lazy bums" for myself. Not surprisingly, I saw a crowd of peaceful people, of all ages and races, standing together, chanting peaceful slogans. There was nothing threatening about their posture or words. I joined them, as I had come to do.A couple of friends joined me soon enough, and we stood there, among people with placards, shouting slogans, all about taking back our system of governance for the people that are supposed to be represented. There were volunteers encouraging people to stay on the sidewalks and out of the street. There were chubby officers up on the bridge. There were ever growing lines of police in full riot gear, ready to crush our skulls. The order was twice repeated in English and Spanish, in a polite enough voice telling us that this was an unlawful assembly and that anyone still there in 5 minutes time would meet violent force, risk serious injury and go to jail. One of the cute kids next to me waved at a police officer, as lines of them spread along the street, billy clubs brandished in their fists, staring at old, short Latino women, children, and non aggressive adults of all races and builds.I felt sad that all these beautiful people have to struggle so hard to demand so little. I felt hurt for Pancho and many others I have never met who have been tear gassed, beaten and imprisoned, for peaceful protest around the country. The officers looked stern and ready to attack at a single order. They looked like us, the protesters, except they had helmets, billy clubs and all kinds of other riot gear, ready for violence. They ended up picking up all the people sitting on the street and taking them away without incident, and eventually, instead of taking the rest of us in, they backed down and left. The protest organizers, entreated upon all of us to pick up what few bits of trash were left around before the street was reopened to traffic and the next protest site was announced.I find it heartbreaking to see these officers who willingly become vicious monsters in uniform when given the order. They too are like you and I, but if given the order, they won't hesitate to break bones, trample freedoms and crush rights. That separates "them" from "us". It is not an easy choice to be moral, when those around you discourage it, but if you took an oath to protect and serve and someone orders you to attack unarmed, non-threatening civilians with brutal force then you may wish to consider what you are serving and who you are protecting.Today, I saw but a small drop in the strong current of resistance to the status quo. People dismiss this movement for not setting out policy goals, and yet there is a commonality of grievance and shared desire for redress. Just because there isn't some ego maniac telling us all what to think, doesn't mean we have no direction. Instead, the direction is one of discussion, consensus and a desire to come to decisions as a group of people brought together by the common desire to make positive change. Sounds like a democratic process to me.
After 9 days, with lots of walking, exploring, eating, art and music, the trip came to an end. Here are a few quick watercolor sketches I did on different days. I saw some elderly musicians in the park in Chinatown and contributed the sketch below to their change box. I met a great band near the Lincoln Center and gave them the sketch you see below. I also had the pleasure of enjoying some jazz music one late night at a place called Small's and did a few sketches there. Some of the art highlights of the trip include these incredible Gustav Klimt, Egon Schiele and Alphonse Mucha paintings I had a chance to see in person. Besides that I picked up some great little prints by Chinese artists which will serve as some inspiration for a future work I am planning out at the moment.Thanks to my friends who gave me a place to crash. It sure makes travel easier and more fun!
I went to Lexington and had some Kashmiri chai. One day I head over to Jackson Heights in search of an excellent Pakistani painter Moazzam Ali whom I had heard might be living in the area. I called a number that may have been his at one point and even went to a building where he might have lived, but no luck. I guess it might have been a more interesting story if I had actually found him. I did talk to some desi sounding dude on the phone a few times that I called the phone number I had. Each time he just said it was a wrong number and refused to talk any further. I had better luck at the amazing Hispanic Society of America Museum. I went there to see some original paintings by the great Spanish artist Joaquin Sorolla y Bastida. He did an almost life size series of paintings depicting Spanish culture from his time. There was a special room set up specifically for these incredible pieces. You can see some details in the photos below.Timesquare was interesting as was Rockefeller Center, and my buddy Ashish who joined me for the second half of my trip. There was fresh fruit in Chinatown, graffiti, food stands, rain, beautiful sunsets on little Italy and all kinds of exciting life and activity in this concrete, steel and glass city.
Today on my walk to work, I saw an elderly Sikh couple sitting on a stoop next to the sidewalk. I greeted them in passing with a "Sat Sri Akaal ji" to which both turned, smiled and enthusiastically replied. I walked further and said "Good morning," to another man who was staring at them a few yards further. He responded, still looking, probably just out of curiousity, before he continued into a building. I pass all kinds of people every day. There are elderly Indian couples, Latinos, African Americans, Muslim families, Latinos, Caucasions, even Caucasion Hari Krishnas around as I walk to work every day.
To many, myself included, it is horrifying to see the level of hatred directed at families and small children. There is footage of speakers at the protest, including Villa ParkCouncil woman Deborah Pauly clearly advocating violence against Muslims when she said "As a matter of fact, I know quite a few marines who will be willing to help these terrorists to an early meeting in paradise," in reference to attendees of the fundraiser, which was cheered by the protest audience.
