morning coffee in 4 directions

With a mind and habits of an old man: I wake early, sip my coffee, and talk to the birds and trees. I see the elders of the community as my close friends, I love being awake and alive! 
With a heart of a little boy, I play with my feet in the sand and reach to the clouds born out of sunlight. I laugh and smile to the strangers others forget are their friends.
With the body of a young stud-- I dance I run I prance I spin and I lift. Kissing and touching aya onde de platique -- pleasuring lovers of the mist on the dawn.
With the spirit of a god, glitter pours from my lips and eyes, fingertips up in smoke, peaceful sage surrounds my embrace, as the earth tells me softly, you are home my dear, azucar!

#inside

There is an art inside me.

A dance inside me.

Which I do not control.

It exists on its own.

And it makes itself know.

It is larger than me.

More powerful than me.

And will live longer than my flesh could ever dream to withstand.

The test of time and space bow to this art, dance, energy’s greatness.

I too bow down to it.

I wish I could be something else.

I have tried to be like other boys.

And in some ways, I was very successful at “out doing” other boys most precious talents.

But I always failed to continue their road.

I fell off their tracks.

Landed in the smelly mud.

Tasted defeat, mixed with the glory of hole most dark and mysterious.  Precious. Disgraceful. Necessary.

Light.

There I found the light of myself.

Indestructible goodness.

Wings.

Arms.

Legs.

Thighs.

Core and lonjas.

KA-BOOM: baby I am here to shake the earth, and blow your mind!!!!!!!!

…hissss.

…haaaaaaaaa.

…ohhhhhhhhhhhh.

…muahhhhhh-hhhhhh-hhhhh.

Art Provides

Sometimes artist provides us with the answers to our greatest troubles... 

The problem though, is that the art we see, are not "usable" or "practical" answers. 

Art just provides us the esteem or "sense of knowing" necessary to enact change, or continue with the mundane task of living.

Well then, maybe art provides us with the esteem to evolve into the practice of a vibrant life of happiness and joy by the virtue of love....

I don't know....

What we must do....

I always found this very curious about dance:

Often, in music, now, with its industry, the goal is to produce and perform as much as possible. Make, perform, and sell music everywhere!

With poetry, the goal is to write, publish. Make more poetry, write it down, and sell it! Perform it, sell it…

But with dance, the goal is a little different. With dance, the goal is to dance: to be dancing. You are not evaluated on your product, but on your ability to dance, or more importantly, your dance practice. The goal, then, is to dance everyday – and as much of the day as possible.

If you produce dance, then you are enacting choreography. If you are performing, then you are a performer. If you are thinking and writing about dance, then you are a critic or theorist. But, in dance, we do not really make something to sell. We are players in the artistic existence of dance.

The possible product, “the performance”, requires immense amounts of work and strain—and is organized by many players. (A solo show is rare and strenuous…)

The dancer is a kind of artist, like a classical musician, who is a player in a larger game of art. He is not a necessarily a producer of a product.  And his practice must continue to grow and evolve—his practice must be expansive and prolific. The accumulation of accomplishments, of shows and collaborative work, are artifacts of his practice. But what is important, is not that he has performed great roles, but how those roles have evolved him, and how he continues to work with himself and others.

The dancer is not “about” the accumulation of “paintings, poems, or shows” – but, he is “about” his practice. Dance is a nonverbal endeavor of the soul, spirit, intellect, and physical virtuosity—it is not a product, but a task.

The task is to keep dancing, as much as possible, and keep evolving.

The task is to dance—anyway or anyhow possible, by all means necessary.

Create a space and time to dance, performance, video, or just in a park or studio, and dance!

a great resource for dance majors

http://www.careers.umd.edu/CareerLinks/Majorguides_arhu/Dance.pdf

THANK YOU

​A huge thank you to Diamanda Galas for granting me permission ​to use her work for my last dance concert! The music is superb! And, I am humbly grateful for her support & Artistry! 

​​

​Eviction of the Impotent Homophobic Coward. 

Choreographer & Performer: Cuauhtemoc Mitote 

Music: This Is The Law Of The Plague by Diamanda Galás

Inscription: This war dance is dedicated to those who are battling the stigma and cultural oppression of their HIV/AIDS, to those who are too afraid to get tested, and to those who continue to survive and thrive with disease in or around their lives--despite all the challenges laid forth by deceitful men. This war dance was made to vanquish fear.  ​

Wings

A poem by Henry Lorca
For Cuauhtemoc Mitote

we couldn't

I tried to be with you.
But, we couldn't make it happen.
You have asked why not?
I have asked why not?
Well?
I recently figured it out, my love.
Love.
Love.
Love.
bell hooks tells me: "A major part of love is commitment. If we are committed to someone, if I'm committed to loving you, then it's not possible for me to 'fall out of love."
I love you.
You love me.
We cannot fall out of love.
But.
There is a commitment issue. 
Though you are committed to loving me.
Though I am committed to loving you.
You are not committed to making love with me.
To Sexing.
To Fucking.
You, if you were free, and were able to sex me up, chose, choose, chosen again and again, someone else.
I was left alone, wishing you were with me. 
I was left wondering what was wrong with me.
I was left horny.
My heart was horny.
Left to the reservation of my mind. 
When my body yearned of fucking around with you, in the hot springs of Santa Cruz.
I wanted to taste you again. 
I wanted to be tasted.
I wanted sweet, passionate, sex.
But, you, with all your glory, could not be with me for so long, for so serious, and you went off to fuck another man, and came back to say that you used up all your free time, and are busy again: maybe next time dear, I still love you...
...That is why I can't be with you.
You are loving, 
I am loving, 
But you lack ability to commit to perfect love,
You lack what I need: continual sex between us--not ignoring each others needs, but making sacrifices to satisfy them--you lack the sex I need. 
You keep me falling, lacking commitment to my flesh.
Thank goodness I have wings to fly.

STANFORD POWWOW THIS WEEKEND!!

Casina

SCIT presents Plautus’ Casina

‘A funny thing happened on the way to Nob Hill’

May 1^st-3^rd, 8pm, Toyon Hall

Please join Stanford Classics in Theater for Casina as we combine the wit and wordplay of Plautus’ Roman comedy with the glamour and razzamatazz of Gilded Age San Francisco.

Cleveland Stafford is a man who has everything: A grand house in Nob Hill, millions of dollars, shares in several major railroad companies and a beautiful farm down on the Peninsula. His only problem? Finding a way to out-fox his wife Gloria and to live the good life with beautiful young Marguerite.
Cleveland and Gloria’s machinations draw in their friends and family, leading to an uproarious farce of plots and counter-plots which involves haughty butlers, burly farmhands and a troupe of vaudeville performers. Featuring SCIT’s classic blend of music, dance and dirty jokes, Casina will be a Roman comedy as you’ve never seen it before!

Please note, due to strong language and adult content, unaccompanied minors will not be admitted.

SCIT is generously sponsored by the VPGE, GSC and the Stanford Department of Classics.

Details:

When: May 1st-3rd, 8pm (doors at 7:45pm)

Where: Toyon Hall, 455 Arguello Way, Stanford

Tickets: Free for all students at any institution and Stanford affiliates (with ID). $5 general public.

Reservations: email ashep@stanford.edu (recommended for groups)

More Info: scit.stanford.edu