Funkier than a mosquitos tweeter..words from Nina Simone. Her words stick to my brain like flies on a fly trap. Speaking of flytraps and mosquitos tweeters, my latest installation is about Bees. My youtube name is thejessiebee. I am Jessie Brugger, and I am allergic to bees. the thought of being stung by many at the same time, gives me nightmares: yet I think Bees are one of the most beautiful insects and creatures here on earth. their striped pattern makes them a perfect fit to be in a circus, and anything having to do with the carnivalesque has always intrigued me. They produce sweet honey, and their King is a Queen. But... Insects and rodents have me on edge all the time. There was a bee in my room the other day and all i wanted was for it to be out, or dead. Home is a place you would think of as rest, but its not always that way. i am constantly aware of the fact that there were, and still could be, mice creeping around the house looking to survive like the bee and all of us.
Mice and Bees make me crazy.. i start to jump at anything i see, even my shadow. Not cool, when your trying to live up the reputation of a tough Brooklyn chick. I have been allergic to bees for many years now, but have not been able to have an epi pin at all times because i cannot afford health insurance. I live in a country that I constantly have to fight to survive. all the time. All the time. ALL THE TIME!! I am constantly paying bills, I am constantly worried about money, i have no health insurance,People will push you over if your not paying attention..Its a Rush..its a Race...its a Struggle.... Yet once that city gets in your blood, you Can’t leave!!!
You become a prisoner to the Filth, to the Hustle, to the chase of your dreams, to the beautiful people, to the deprived, to fitting in to different neighborhoods, to being accepted, to standing out, to being a survivor..to fighting. You crave the rush, the noise, the race, the moments of beauty in a tall concrete jungle. the sun setting down 37th street is magical. The beautiful brownstones in Brooklyn..the summer afternoon when a fire hydrant shoots out water and kids run through laughing and screaming from cold water on a hot sweaty day..you know your in the city. Winks, and handshakes, smiles and nicknames, pats on the back, and kisses on the cheek..there is a nonverbal communication that keeps you connected, knowing you are not alone. You fight for a seat on the subway on a rush hour train only to give it up at the next stop for an elderly person or woman with baby. you get a smile from someone else on the train and its all worth it. you stand in line for it seems like an eternity at the art store while some old man tells the checkout lady how art stores have changed and the neighborhood has changed and its hard to find what you need. As you impatiently give the check out lady a look , she hurries up the older man and then you get your stuff and feel bad as you see the man hobble outside a coffee shop looking so frail, and end up talking to him for an hour about his art and what its like being him. You think you are doing something good, and then he shows you his art, and it is porn. He says that thats what people want these days..so thats what he’s going to give them...Sex. you get disgusted. You realize he’s just like other male artists or female artists today in chelsea who give the art world what they want..porn. If he just didn't say he would give them what they wanted..why do we give people what they want?
You then go to your studio and sit there for a half an hour as you always do wondering how you ended up in a small room with no windows in the middle of the city..dressed up as a great opportunity!!.. but nonetheless you are in a small room with no windows. you want a glass of wine. its the middle of the day. You can see how people in this city become alcoholics..they struggle all day to make it, to be the best they can be..and well we need a release..alcohol, drugs..sex. this city is seeming with people needing an escape a trip out of their heads and take a break from their stressful situations.
New York is a city full of talented actors and artists, musicians, people with Big dreams and Big ambitions to help their country and their family: To be better than their past, To be Big. To know the right people. To go to the right parties. To be seen. To say the right things..To laugh at the right jokes. To wear the right fashion, To be different, but not too different. To be loud, but not too loud. To be angry and passionate, but not too angry and passionate. Its all a fine line. It’s a balancing game and the wrong thing said to the wrong person can cause a person to have to leave a neighborhood because they know they are no longer safe there.
New York is a city of people. Its only New York because of the people. The taxi driver this morning had three different conversations going on in three different languages.. Most people i know here know three or more languages, but because they do not have posses American citizenship they are not given the opportunities that we have, and we like to keep it that way. We like to think that we belong here, and that we deserve an opportunity over someone without citizenship. I heard a story the other night at a bar from a young Mexican guy about coming to America. I felt like i was listening to a story from a different generation, or from someone from a war torn country. the guy, my age, talked about a five day long journey to America traveling only in the pitch black of night and sleeping and hiding in weird places during the day for hours at a time. He came here, and now has two jobs. Most Mexicans I know send more than half their paycheck back to their family in order to help their people.
There is a community amongst people of the same culture inside of New York, an instant bond and understanding of what it took to get to New York, and what it will take to stay here. People fight for each other without knowing each other because they have to, because community is all we have. I watch other cultures exchange communication like brothers and sisters. its pretty magical. I wish i saw it amongst people of my own race, but at the same time i don't..because our history is one of conquer and defeat, and thats not something I agree or want to come together on to celebrate. Sometimes I see females tear each other apart to survive, and that makes me sick. At the same time, the bond between two females is powerful and something that men crave for. Any real friendship that have gone through tests of loyalty, is worth more than any thing anyone could ever buy.
Relationships are what the city is made up of, Loving Relationships, Enemy Relationships, Gang Relationships, territorial relationships. Ask someone who grew up in a borough of Brooklyn about someone from a different borough and there is competition and foul remarks, yet put both those people in a prison with someone from Queens or the Bronx, and there is unity amongst the two from Brooklyn. We need each other. We need to Relate to each other. And we need to be competitive with each other. We fight in this city to be the Best, and it brings out the Worst, and the Best in all of us. At times we can be crabs in a barrel, and other times we pull together as a community to fight for each other to see their success and celebrate their time in the spotlight. New York is a city with a Fucking Beautiful Struggle.
No comments:
Post a Comment