on monday i went to a tibetan buddhist meditation center in SF for class/a paper/a presentation. there was supposed to be an art show. there were 15-20, size of index cards, pictures, childish drawings, and on one, a three line “poem” which didn’t rhyme. jason, convinced that taking pictures of tibetans steals their souls, kept pointing at things and muttering, “no soul!” i, attempting to maintain some sort of professional decorum, was glad i wasn’t drinking milk since it would have come up my nose.
somehow then the three people who were there (white, middle age, two boys, one girl) forced us to sit down and then talked to me for a while about my paper and about buddhism. somehow then we got taken into thier alter room and sacrificed to the soul-less god. or we got trapped into watching a video with them on dharma art by chogyam trungpa rinpoche. the man showed a slideshow of artwork from around the world and made spurious comments about what sort of shambhalistic principle they espoused. “no laziness”, “no regret”, “universal monarch”, “jolly good show that one”. that last comment was directed to the venus painting where she’s standing on the oyster shell. lecherous, dirty tibetan monk. sheesh. (he was married, but openly had sex with students, drank like a fish and smoked like a furnace).
tonight i have a to give a presentation in class about my paper and my experience at a religious institution/event having to do with the subject matter of my paper. it’s tempting just to whip out some alcohol, doodle some art, and hold it up and yell things like, “straight and simple!” or “i am drunk!”