The Fixed Eye

Official Website

2010-09-02T21:11:00.000-07:00

New Work

2010-05-01T23:32:00.000-07:00

Stay Tuned for Queergasm! A cabaret of queer performances Friday May 21st at 8pm., Winston's Cafe 5001 Clark Street

I will be performing new work about Islamic Religiosity and Queer Identity, and Metaphysical Spinning. Below is a link to a short video/performance sketch of the performance -A Queer Junction. This is definitely a work in progress. When you see it at Winston's it'll be different. : ) Hope to see you there!

A Queer Junction (Performance/Video Sketch)

Running

2010-04-20T11:40:00.000-07:00

OK here's what I've been up to: Running... I am training for the Soldier Field 10 mile race coming up on May 29th. That will lead me up to Marathon training in June.

I am running for myself as a restorative gesture of love. I am also running to raise money for the Diabetes Action Team.

There are many many people effected by Diabetes. By the time I run the marathon I want to share as many stories about people who are living with Diabetes as possible. If you have a friend or family member who has been effected by Diabetes and would like to share their story shoot me an email. I would love to have a short chat with them and write about it.

Thank you for your support!

Tim Miller's Class at Victory Gardens

2010-03-17T22:42:00.000-07:00

Attempted Journal of Tim Miller's Performance Class.

3.16.10
I had done this work before...a long time ago in Houston, Texas at DiverseWorks with Brian Freeman and MaryEllen Strom. The writing, the metaphors , the using last week, last month, that last relationship as a cliff. Which you jump off from and glide across the open black stage. This is time feels fresh and awkward, like I have never experienced myself as an artist. So when Tim asked us to think about those charged moments where we have made definite choices, said no or yes, I drew a blank... became numbed and iced over. Yesterday I fudged my way through the evening obsessing the whole time how clogged and stagnant my brain felt. That was the first day.

3.17.10
Today was better. Though my head raced I tried to stay present to the exercises. Everybody else seemed so confident. They probably weren't maybe they were just performing confidence.

3.31.10
Ok I am not much of a consistent journal keeper. But the end of my portion of the Tim Miller story is that the show was a success. My friend from Houston came and was a huge support. He took a bunch of pictures. We love Grayson!!

Performing At HomoLatte

2010-02-28T21:14:00.000-08:00

www.homolatte.com

Tuesday, March 2, 2010
Time:
7:30pm - 9:30pm
Location:
Big Chicks
Street:
5024 North Sheridan Road
CHicago IL

I will be performing 2 works.
1. "A Fit" is a narrative examination of "belonging" in the Career/Love dream-trap.

2. "Aquaneisha Fox and the Arab" poses questions about the real and the unreal.

Ashford's Grace

2009-07-26T22:37:00.000-07:00

Strange innocent brushing
Freedom letters on brown
Stairs lead and canvas a path
Down to the street.

Honestly didn’t know
What I was doing
But you let me
Follow you to the lake

Light circles rest sway
On water surface
Looking like lust
I lean in to taste

Struck fast by depthless
Kisses, one time, one nights
Standing; foot-dragging
Me down and backward

Brown letters on freedom
Gesture point towards gravel road
Back to the street

You knew I didn't
know how to swim

No Keys to this Town.

2009-02-16T08:50:00.000-08:00

The cab drivers glasses were dirty, like he hadn't wiped them for hours maybe days. He drove with ease completely accustomed to seeing through fog. I wondered how he could see out of them.

I am also a cab driver but i dont want to be... I hate the stigma. It's like a well worn invitation to be looked over disrespected. I'm in a rut. My move to Madison has become one big step backwards. I have applied and applied and networked and made calls and emailed for any other job but this one. No is a greyish disenchanted mass that has seeped into my sight line. It is now a thick fog that I drive though everyday.

Metra to Aurora

2008-04-14T11:19:00.000-07:00

Out on the walkway there are sparrows pecking at the concrete. The lights have dimmed now all that remains is glowing yellow bulbs that touch the weaving tracks with a dull spots of light. Rolling forward we are let out unto the smoke stacks, cranes and brown bridges. Sky hieght buildings intersect billboards. Growth here is not dependent on green.

He was blissfully unaware of any judgments against him. Behind coke bottle glasses and earbuds he loudly enjoyed his take out. Sharp glances from a seat neighbor bounced from his hunched shoulders onto the floor. A woman across disinfected the air with a non-fragrant spray; another declaration of disgust. I joined in from afar with my stare... studying his smashed-in nose, his head peacefully tilted revealing two day stubble from ear to nape of neck. All of us imprisoned by the ignorance of his offense.

Chalkboard and Sola

2007-02-10T17:26:00.000-08:00

going to the extreme

wet socks in sketchers

not prepared at all

for a blizzard month

but that’s the beauty…

I went anyway

down that long unshoveled

street. Writing my name,

previous experience,

people who know me,

on tiny lines.

as if I cared

about the sauce

or the temperature

meat.

I smiled myself

inside their doors

just to activate

the universe

in exchange for

checks, tips

and a place to hate

on Saturday night.

Monster Untamed

2006-11-06T02:12:00.000-08:00

boys lean in floppy
hair and shoulder blade bones
youth content with disconnect
metaled ears spell it out

but I couldn’t hear the words
to your favorite song
monsters blend breed
melt to tame

kissing you again
louded my brain
for days silence the only
dignity graced to hold

I would’ve kept
wild with you

swimming miles
on your time
even with wrists
bar tied supplicate
kicking kicking
toward love apocryphal

you leaned in
spelling it out
over crushed grapes
and hemp leaves

wild monsters like me
can’t keep up
in the olympic race
for oblivion

hands tied to holding
dignity is a heavy handicap
and you’re much too
graceful to let me drown.

High Heels

2006-02-01T21:55:00.000-08:00

tear the house down
hot you are
heels so high I need
a ladder to touch your ankle.

Red Red Red
flecks of orange underneath
hair I’ll never reach
but you let me see your face
Scrubbed freckle fresh
that kissable moment passed
over unrealized. later after door closing
me outside I picked it up, memorizing
the permanence of snowflakes.

I have to tear myself down for you
kiss the both scars you’ve made and
the scars that make you.

Blue Bluest Eye
those waters tossing
the occasional teal
I am not Pecola Breedlove, praying,
Throwing herself head first
into a whiter way. I do not
want your eyes for myself,
to have.

My truest want is to be your trophy of goodwill
whole making, savior-ing emotional jesus.

black unfathomable night
a single point –high heel shape
lifts upward and away
take another breath
failure sighs relief
I remain unsaved
And you unscathed.

Portland Decision

2006-01-09T07:34:00.000-08:00

Over the yellow tables and cherry-wood chairs
My left ear gathers your effusive voice, maybe more
than just business and wine. Deciding on the division of
time ; in half then quarters and nickels. I strain to focus
on the task at hand: Move forward or backwards
over your small breasty frame

Stupidly believing you want me to make some move, one
long kiss to bed and strap-on thrust. Delusions
are only worth pennies aside the reality of a changed mind
This is no time for sex-

Unwashed jeans jingle a truthful wisdom
After-work pizza change, 13 cents from a
Grande Mild Verona. I have done this before
I know better- you are curios not serious and
I am not curious about serious mistakes.

Move Forward: collect all the coins
from jars and jeans and multiply.
10 dimes make a dollar; cash experience
enough to turn down this ticket
to some place in Portland
where time and decisions divide themselves
no differently than right here.