Zen Spot #24 -- Mindfulness, meditation and think-stench of the body electric at 315 Bowery February 14, 2018 00:05
West Side bash-printed street art, 2016
Midnight in Paris
Owen Wilson's character, a contemporary Los Angeles scriptwriter, finds himself in Paris with his fiance, on vacation with her parents. Inspired by the creative culture in turn-of-the-century Paris, he daydreams of the body electric collected by Gertrude Stein: Hemingway, Picasso, Fitzgerald, Man Ray, Dali, Bunuel, Barnes, Porter and more. Evening strolls stoke the romance.
Sitting alone on a marble staircase in Montmartre, at midnight, a rowdy vintage limousine slowly pulls up. The passengers warmly wave, inviting him to take a ride. Shortly, having gently time-warped, he arrives at a house party honoring the writer Jean Cocteau, in turn-of-the-century Paris, his heroes all attending the fête.
Think-stench and the body electric
The walls of CBGB, the Punk music club in New York City’s Bowery were true, ambitious, calculated, spiraling and unconscious. Control that could have been exercised over the crucifixion of cheap playbills was turned over to the gods and chance.
That singular, never-ending, unanswerable, existential question forever torn apart by the intelligentsia floated between the walls. Musicians, artists, writers and thinkers grabbed it. Bash-printing that day's conclusion on the cheapest crap available, they stapled their ten word manifestos to the plaster with hope. Religion of a sort. The body electric drenched in think-stench.
I was alive. Ninety miles away. Too young, but I read, listened and daydreamed. Byrne, Harry, Reed, Warhol, Basquiat, Ramone, Schnabel, The Dolls, Television, Smith and Madonna. My Paris.
Ninety mile bus ride. Broken foot. Hours hobbling through West Side galleries that held the art of the artists I wanted to be, supported by the patrons I wanted to know, in the place I would have died in late-century New York City. The substances that almost took my life in the 90s would have achieved their goal in the 70s.
Sitting on a public staircase across the street from a gallery I had just visited, a rowdy cab pulled up to the curb. A young man , an artist maybe, was waved over by the fares. He got inside.
I took a breath and closed my eyes.
An artist, entrepreneur and writer walking the Buddhist path, his art focuses on the Dharma Wheel. The four wheels shown above are among over 600 DharmaMechanic has created over the course of his career. Each has a unique story. If you’d like to read the story of these wheels or purchase a framed 20" x 20" ready-to-hang print, visit SilkDharma.com.