Posts Tagged ‘burning questions’

Twins

Sunday, May 3rd, 2015

“Do you believe in life after delivery?”

‘Why, of course. There has to be something after delivery. Maybe we are here to prepare ourselves for what we will be later.’

“Nonsense. There is no life after delivery. What kind of life would that be?”

‘I don’t know, but there will be more light than here. Maybe we will walk with our legs and eat from our mouths. Maybe we will have other senses that we can’t understand now.’

“That is absurd. Walking is impossible. And eating with our mouths? Ridiculous! The umbilical cord supplies nutrition and everything we need. But the umbilical cord is so short. Life after delivery is to be logically excluded.”

‘Well I think there is something and maybe it’s different than it is here. Maybe we won’t need this physical cord anymore.’

“Nonsense. And moreover if there is life, then why has no one has ever come back from there? Delivery is the end of life, and in the after-delivery there is nothing but darkness and silence and oblivion. It takes us nowhere.”

‘Well, I don’t know, but certainly we will meet Mother and she will take care of us.’

“Mother? You actually believe in Mother? That’s laughable. If Mother exists then where is She now?”

‘She is all around us. We are surrounded by her. We are of Her. It is in Her that we live. Without Her this world would not and could not exist.’

“Well I don’t see Her, so it is only logical that She doesn’t exist.”

‘Sometimes, when you’re in silence and you focus and you really listen, you can perceive Her presence, and you can hear Her loving voice, calling down from above.’

– Útmutató a Léleknek

When I was just a little girl…

Monday, August 26th, 2013

Want to help me flesh out some specifics from a scene in my newest show?

Please respond with what immediately comes to mind when presented with the phrase “Inner Child”.

Mine was: Inconvenient asshole.

Tuesday, June 25th, 2013

“I know that love is unconditional. But I also know that it can be unpredictable, unexpected, uncontrollable, unbearable and strangely easy to mistake for loathing” – Neil Gaiman, Stardust

If London is a watercolor, New York is an oil painting.

Wednesday, June 12th, 2013

“For in that city there is neurosis in the air which the inhabitants mistake for energy.” ― Evelyn Waugh

The New York subway has its own distinctive scent, like a cocktail of black tar and metal shavings, that I immediately find familiar and comforting every time I retun. You’d think it would mostly smell like pee and refuse, but for the most part it doesn’t.

I was periodically thankful for having that sense memory, and generally a lot of time, the half dozen or so instances I took the train in the wrong direction during the week I was visiting; also a bit of a staple experience for me here.

In the first day I was back, I remembered one of the reasons I considered moving to New York City – all the free stuff on the streets! Within a few blocks of walking a neighborhood, there’s always some motley crew plethora of building materials, toys, electronics, old furniture (much of it antique) and, of course, actual trash laying around. I remember fantasizing about having to purchase nearly nothing for my shoebox apartment should I have moved, back in 2005.

I also remembered one of the reasons why I decided not to move to New York City; There’s, uh, fucking trash everywhere. And with trash, comes vermin, which is also everywhere, including squashed on the streets and scurrying across all manner of floors, sometimes even near my stuff. Humph.

Slow Start

For various reasons, including working my way through the antibiotics I started in Sacramento and actually getting a ton of shit done in between, I spent a couple entire days in PJ’s (or rather, the clothes I slept in, because I didn’t really bring PJ’s) without going out or eating much of anything. With the exception of a few days in which I had plans already, I found that I didn’t have the motivation to do much, and was rather steadily depressed with a few spikes of life in between.

Sitting alone in a small, tidy NYC diner. A white nondescript plate of steaming corned beef hash that most certainly came from a can sits half eaten in front of me, its ridiculous portion blanketed in eggs over medium. I’m listening to Dido seeping from the ceiling, remembering my trip to Toronto when I listened to her a lot. The cold, mostly, and the alone time on the vibrating street cars. My heart is lighter than yesterday, allowing for sweet sadness to spread to my throat and the furrow of my brow. A small wise smile finishes the edges of my lips that feels like a gate to the knowing field. Everybody seems to want to ask me about myself. Perhaps it’s because they know, too. I’ll stay here until the plate is clear. Two more rest periods, I’ll bet. – June 7, 2013

It rained as much as it was nice while here, complete with the signature humidity of an NYC summer, but thankfully it never got agonizingly hot. On the few days it never stopped raining I pretty much hung out in bed with Bejeweled, which I had played for the first time on the plane ride out.

That said, there were plenty of standout times, starting with seeing my friend Rob Paravonian (for the first time in like 6 years) opening and MCing for his friend Liam McEneane’s live show taping at Union Hall in Brooklyn, the day after I arrived. They’re both funny as shit and super sweet – buy their stuff.

Saturday

On Saturday I went to FIGMENT NYC with Donia, my friend from Seattle whom I originally learned fire spinning from, and my host in NYC. FIGMENT is a giant not for profit public collective interactive free-for-all art event on Governors Island, an amazing retired military base converted into a public park, complete with dozens of huge, gorgeous Victorian era houses and lots of green hilly things. The weather, thankfully, was perfect for it.

The day before FIGMENT (a Friday that was lost to the rain and the comfort of Donia’s guest bed), after looking over the website and really liking what I saw, I sent a little introduction mail through their contact form explaining a small portion of my background in the arts and non-profit work and expressing my interest in putting on a FIGMENT event in Seattle. To my surprise, I was quickly responded to by the Executive Producer and given contact information to be utilized when I arrived.

Within about 3 hours of meeting, wandering, philosophizing and effectively interviewing one another, I was given a nametag, shirt, and was being introduced as “working on Seattle”. Suddenly, I had plans to return for the second day to attend the producers brunch in the morning, which I did, and it was pretty glorious too. One of the things that traveling to the east cost illuminates is just how fucking passive aggressive and flakey people in Seattle are. It’s a wonder anything ever gets the fuck done.

I feel confident that there is intense possibility here, though. Many more things need to fall into place before I know exactly where I fit into the Seattle plans with FIGMENT, however, it’s safe to assume based off my experience with the organizations core assets and many representatives from other areas, including Washington D.C., Boston, Chicago, and even Australia, that it’s rather likely I will be involved in some sort of leadership role in the process. (Unless, of course, I decide to stay in Sweden.)

Hack tha planet, bitchez

After my first day of FIGMENT, and discovering my notable sunburn, I stopped by a place in midtown for some Summercon afterdrinking with my hacker boys, and to pick up the convention badge I never ended up using. I had supposed to attend con and meet up the night before but I simply didn’t feel well enough yet.

I did, however, show up eventually. In turn I got to visit with a few of my favorite people in the world, many of which I hadn’t expected to see, and got a little bit of my drink on.

I was met almost immediately with a pretty awesome exchange with my longtime friend and hobbiest photographer Weld, who happened to notice some time ago that I borrow the SLR camera I often use. He also happens to have a Canon 40D he is not using, and happens to think I need to be taking WAY more pictures. What can I say, the man’s a problem solver – He offered his old camera to me, and I’ll have a 40D of my very own shortly after I settle from my trip. I live a charmed existence indeed.

I invited my distant ex to join us as part of our shenanigans and we ended up having an awesomely entertaining and rather public series of heart to hearts, in which we aired out a lot of the crazy shit we’d pulled on one another, sometimes for the first time since it had happened, and recounted some pretty awesome memories in there as well.

There was a lot of laughing, from both us as well as the people around us who were listening to these tragically hilarious recountings, and a lot of recognition between us. Much Good Stuff was had from our interactions, especially for him, as he’d been slower to process and grow out of the place we were back then and had apparently been holding on to a lot of stuff I’d put down some time ago.

It felt really good, and I was aglow with the familiar feeling of having contributed profoundly to another persons inner world by being generous with mine, though I never stop being surprised when that happens. Nothing we talked about triggered me and I felt a lot of gratitude and connection about it all. It’s sort of amazing how healing admitting to your ex you were kinda happy when you saw he got fat can be.

I ended up spending a night in Manhattan which consisted of very little sleep, not enough dancing, and long awaited connections of multiple types. It was a welcome contrast to the work emails, event coordination mode, recovering from infection, actual work, etc. I got to just be myself for a while, say what came to my mind and be with people who’ve seen it all and stuck around anyway. It really felt great.

Sunday

Spent some time at MOMA in NYC yesterday, mostly mouth agape at the ridiculous piles of shit that the elite seem to think constitutes as artwork. A few things stood out for me, including an antique slideshowing depicting horrific facial deformities, many appearing to be the result of bombings and shootings to the face in the world wars. Some of them were so brutalized it was difficult to imagine how they continued to exist, missing large portions of their bone structure. Something about it captured me but I couldn’t put my finger on it; I realized this morning that the exhibit spoke to my experiences regarding the uncertainty of the results of healing. I expect a scarless, flawless result from mine, particularly when addressing emotional and spiritual injuries. But sometimes, no matter how much more you fiddle with and stretch your skin over the giant hole collapsing your face in, there comes a time to accept that it’s just always going to be tender and unsightly. Disturbing.

I have decided that most Modern art is a bunch of fucking bullshit, and the Museum of Modern Art kinda sicked me out. It’s almost impossible not to compare my work to the work that’s displayed, and so much of it is SO BAD it’s just unbelievable.

Indecipherable pencil scribbles on torn pages of newsprint? Horrifying greenscreened clunky dancers in garish bedazzled zentai suits on video, chunks of which are invisible because the colors of the costumes matched the screen too closely? Chunky paper with strands of human hair swirled sloppily on its surface and put in a frame? Duct tape squares on fucking cardboard?

It seems that any old piece of trash is modern art as long as you make it a series. Who the fuck decides to put this shit in a museum, anyway – cause I’ve got a pile of my crap smeared to a 2×4 to fucking sell the pretentious fucker.

The one thing we were actually there for, the Rain Room, was an hour and a half wait when the exhibit closed in an hour and 15 minutes. No pictures in the Rain Room for Will and I on Sunday. We decided to try later in the week. BLECH.

A Case of the Mondays

Low energy and fairly uncomfortable, strumming the uke without much direction. I’m traveling, taking antibiotics and have pooped twice all week. Help a sista out and suggest some songs you’d like to hear me cover. If any of them work out well I’ll post the progress to soundcloud.

Once that eventful and potentially life altering weekend was over, New York City spent another solid day raining. The last time I was around these parts for this kind of weather, I spectacularly wrecked on the NJ turnpike with my ex after hydroplaning over a temporary lake I couldn’t see.

That was about 16 years ago now and the sound still shoots me up with adrenaline, but that’s about the only thing that remains in me from our ridiculously abusive (both self, drugs and one another) history, for both of us now, I think, and I found the weather to be almost communicative, like a final nod goodbye to all that fucked up victim bullshit. I found myself wondering if I would still periodically panic when I heard hydroplaning anymore.

Monday also happened to be the day that I traveled farther east in Brooklyn to meet with Dese’Rae Stage of the Live Through This Project (for those who know NYC, I was staying on Atlantic Ave near the Nostrand stop on the A, and went to Saraghina off the Utica stop for my meeting) to talk about life after an adolescence wrought to the core with suicide attempts.

When I had originally contacted Dese’Rae after discovering her project, I was in a pretty solid mindstate. I offered to talk about my experiences because I felt I had a lot of encouraging words and insights that could help people who weren’t feeling that life was very worth living, or were questioning if it was all worth it. I’d been there and done that and was proof that it got better.

Of course, when it came time to actually talk to Dese’Rae, I felt like total fucking shit. I was worn down again, tired, sad, alien, weird, alone. My trip wasn’t freeing and energizing like I was expecting, the time off felt like an emotional prison plagued by sickness and conflict, all these fucked up emotions kept surfacing and for much of the weeks leading up to this commitment I’d been stifling tears and avoiding feeling what was calling them out.

As I sat at the table with her chatting and occasionally advising about the administrative challenges of her project, what felt most real to me as my time to speak and be recorded loomed in the distance was how hard it still is. How hard it is at least a portion of almost every single day of my life. How hope for living is a constant battle, a constant struggle to remember that year that gets farther and farther in the past where I didn’t see suicide as an option, or a concept that was just at my fingertips, at the ready, waiting for me to slide down far enough to have nothing but it to cling to. How hard it is to remember the tiny strands of that reality, to remember when I feel bad that it is possible for me to feel better, for what felt like a long time, and maybe some day if I work hard enough I might feel that way again.

So, that, and ideas and insights surrounding that, was what I talked about, once I got through the basics of my history, which took a while in and of itself. I’ll be interested in seeing what she chooses to include in my story on the projects website, which as far as I can figure is about 6 months off from being published. I’m glad I did it, and I know I will be touched by what comes out of it. For now, though, I am comforted by the fact that I’m likely to forget about it entirely in the meantime.

The Final Act

This vacation, thus far, has turned into a lot of work, very little movement/exploration, and laptop forearms. Considering unplugging entirely while in Sweden.

The last few days in NYC were pretty typical. I slept a bit, scheduled a shoot in Sweden for the 17th, checked a lot of email and took Donia for Indian food as a thank you for letting me crash at her place.

Will and I did get some good pictures in the Rain Room exhibit first thing in the morning the day I left, and I was reintroduced to SnapSeed, which I had tried but didn’t really get into before, for post processing arty images.

Up at 7am preparing for a second crack at getting into the MOMA rain room exhibit to have some pictures taken of me. After that, a final couple of hours in NYC which are likely to include central park and stopping by the piano stores I noticed in the neighborhood last time. Then back to Brooklyn to pack up, and the long flight to Sweden.

I had the opportunity to play a Yamaha C7 grand piano at the recommendation of my friend and musical collaborator Aaron Marshall, who suggested I try a Yamaha after reading about my experience with Steinways. We hit up Central Park for a walk and some ice cream and had a ridiculous lunch at a place called the Jekyll and Hyde club in Times Square. It was good to see Will again, it had been since 2005 that I had, and he is what one might call Good People.

The plan is to return to New York for FIGMENT next year. We shall see. I have a lot of travel, still, this year, and next year might need to be a year that I stay home and tend to my various businesses. Especially considering a majority of my commitments in the near future include SEAF and FIGMENT which are volunteer. I really need to figure out how to get paid for this shit.

Packing up and soon to be out of communication until July. If you’re planning on having any big news or have something to say to me before then now’s the time to speak up. Otherwise, see you on the flip side.

Given my penchant for spiraling into the social networking abyss, I will be offline apart from updating my blog until I return from my trip.

Too close to see

Friday, May 10th, 2013

Thanks to reviews and interviews from my mp3.com days, and the feedback you’ve given me over the years, I have a pretty good idea how to describe my original music to people who haven’t heard it.

Most of the content of Embodied, though, not so much. How to describe my covers is a task that alludes me.

In preparation of offering Embodied on BandCamp I’d like to request feedback about the show, and at the same time, offer up some music for free streaming.

A selection of the covers I performed are up at http://www.last.fm/music/Courtnee+Papastathis

Stream them. Listen to them. Take them in. And maybe, if you have time, tell me what you think?

http://facebook.com/courtnee
http://facebook.com/neevita
http://twitter.com/neevitadotnet
courtnee@gmail.com
courtnee@neevita.net
courtnee@notapplicable.org

Thank you.

The Mask

Thursday, February 7th, 2013

My choreography for my (public, and for charity) performance on the 22nd is basically already written, and basically always was. Though I haven’t had the chance to perform my favorite act very often, I know it like the curve of my own hip. I also know whatever changes I do make, or whatever snafu’s happen during the act, my 11 years of experience will ensure that the impact to the performance is small.

I try to strike the balance between over-rehearsing transitions, new choreography, and things that torque my body with being prepared – and I never really have found a comfortable place with that, yet. But I have figured out something, or seen it a little differently – which seems to be what happens when I perform aerial nowadays.

Part of what I’m changing/enhancing this time, with this act that grows as I grow, is the ground work and storytelling. I decided over a week ago that for part of the act I’ll be wearing a mask. A mask that I have a slight concern about seeing through and handling gracefully within the act that keeps eating quietly at me in the in the back of my mind.

I walk past this mask countless times every day. I’ve yet to take it off its display perch and put it on. Feel how it limits me and frees me at the same time, decide how I want it tied, what to do about how it will effect my hair. It would take.. maybe 15 minutes. Maybe.

And still, whenever I think of the act, I have this gnawing sense of dysfunction, like something about it is fundamentally broken. Like it’s going to suck. Like I have gone too long without performing it and it’s not in me anymore. Like I don’t know what the fuck I’m doing. I’ve been looking all over for what I’ve been missing, what move I don’t know well enough, how I’m going to hurt myself or screw up.

But if I look at the performance objectively, that fucking mask is the only question I really have about it. What the hell am I waiting to be ready for?

Procrastination is such a demon bitch.

Edit: Mask works great. And other ideas are flooding in now, too.

Friday, November 9th, 2012

Can be irritatingly, painfully hungry, and yet still too picky to choose what to eat. Does that seem right to you?

Namaste, suckers: My Qi Revolution experience

Monday, July 23rd, 2012

Friday, July 20, 2012: Packing for a 4-day, 36 hour Qigong seminar at the Tacoma Convention center. I am not bringing a laptop.

Recently, along with about 425 other people, I trekked down to Tacoma to attend “Qi Revolution“, presented by Jeff Primack. The course is $99 and the CEU (continuing education credits, which are required to maintain a massage license in WA state) hours are a whopping 32 hours for 4 days, so you can imagine why most people were there.

I went to the workshop with very few expectations. My hope, however, was to have an enriching and calming experience in the midst of increased stress in my life lately. I’ve never done qigong and understood it to be similar to taichi, which I have seen footage of, so I figured we’d be moving through forms like that.

The first thing I was struck by when I walked in was that the production quality was excellent. I liked the sound setup, the stage setup, the visuals they were using (This Aeon visualizer, was one of them.), and I liked the instructor Jeff Primack. His sense of humor was accessible and fun and he is a good public speaker and very personable. I also liked the Tacoma Convention Center, enough that I snapped a photo of it on my phone, which was mostly off for the first day, and the staff from both the center and the Qi organization were all smiles and assistance.

While registering on the first day, I had already begun thinking about the parts of my personality which had emerged, or perhaps more accurately had been muted, in this particular environment. I rarely spoke, to anyone, and did not strike up conversations with the attendees. Being at this workshop was a window into some of the personality changes in myself that I’ve noticed over some time (like discovering that I am in fact an introvert) and a great opportunity to consider them, especially since, with the exception of a few surface conversations in which my hair or hat was complimented, I didn’t want to spend any of my time talking with anyone. I spent a lot of time quietly observing, and waiting for energy and intuitions.

After we had learned and attempted our first form, I found myself suspecting in the first few hours that I did not, apparently, like qigong. It is extremely slow and hard to relax into, and I just wasn’t feeling the love after standing in one place and following instructions regarding how we should be moving our hands slowly through the air for 40 minutes

By now, Jeff Pirmack had used the G word one too many times for my taste, and had begun incorporating his personal spiritual beliefs into the lectures, which I hadn’t reacted negatively to, but was aware of due to the direction they showed to me that the workshop was in danger of going. He was also quoting religious scriptures, which I consider tall tale fables, and interpreting them rather literally, which.. you gotta wonder. But he had done so with the preface that he would do it occasionally and hoped it wouldn’t offend anyone, and I appreciated that, so I wasn’t really offended.

Then, we did the “Breath Empowerment” exercise, in which we all laid down while Jeff lead us through a breathing exercise in which we hyperventilated ourselves for a number of minutes. Many people had many profound experiences, felt vibrations, heat, cold, saw God, etc. I was physically effected by this, in the same ways I’ve been effected by having the wind knocked out of me or crying too hard, but the thing I found most impressive about the presentation was how well the sound guy had incorporated the breathing audio we were being lead by while still allowing Jeff to instruct us. The thing I found the least impressive was Jeffs assurance that we were not, in fact, hyperventilating.

Saturday, mid-day: So far, my favorite part about this qigong thing is the music they are playing. I’ve felt a vibration or two but nothing like the crazy religous experiences people are crying about here. Reminds me of landmark, with a physical bent and without the hard sell pyramid scheme (Though overhearing the wide eyed fast talking volunteer trying to talk some chick into buying a $125 book is grating on me.). I am learning some cool things and think the experience worthwhile, but the more I go to things like this the more I understand that some people just arrive ready to pop and believe, and some don’t.

By the time I’d written this update, it was becoming clear that many of the people in the room I was in were on a train I had not boarded. People were crying and gushing slowly and profoundly on camera about their experiences, and I felt that there was a strong possibility that they had been manipulated by the so-called “Breathing Empowerment” exercise. Overall, I was feeling positively for the experiences other people were feeling and know what it’s like to have a big breakthrough, even if you later discover that it wasn’t quite the miracle you though it was at the time, and that was fine by me. If it works it works.

That said, I was beginning to dislike how physical manipulations and over oxygenation were being touted as spiritual/energetic miracles, and it was pretty clear I wasn’t in this for the long haul.

Saturday, late-day: 99% certain I wont bother with this entire class. I like the instructor, the class is neutral and accessible, but standing around holding my arms out for 30+ minutes is just not my thing. Reminds me of my craniosacral elective – great stuff, love receiving it, and also not my bag. I could get into dance based on similar principal, but this energy harnessing shit is difficult and frustrating and I suck at it. It would be like another job to take this on and be any good at it. I am fine with my attunement with woo being somewhat divine and random.

After the first day, I had noticed very much the lack of personal instruction when attending a physical workshop of 425. I was working through a completely new experience with the aid of a couple video projectors and some great animations, but if I wanted a closer reference all I had to go on were the hesitant motions of a person near me who was also trying to fumble through with the same tools I had. I wondered if part of the reason I wasn’t liking this more was because no one was ever correcting me or interacting with me directly, but I also accepted that honestly, I most likely didn’t care enough about qigong to take a smaller class later.

One thing I very much enjoyed about this experience was the food and nutrition lecturing. Some of it was very similar to the nutrition class at Brian Utting which I loved, with different presentation and slightly differing naming conventions (Jeff Primack calls them ‘phytochemicals’ while Brian Utting called them ‘phytonutrients’, for instance).

In that vein, it was a fabulous review for me and by far my favorite part of the information that was presented. But I was very wary of the continual claims by Jeff and his associates and followers of miraculous healing and complete disease reversal based off his nutritional and food related teachings. I absolutely believe it’s possible and firmly consider food to be both the source and the solution to many, many medical ailments, but something about these claims and the consistency in which they were being presented didn’t sit well with me.

I had also noticed, by now, that the way Jeff Primack speaks shifts into a strange and subtle “Engrish”, and I found myself wondering if this person who is clearly a marketing and presentation genius didn’t do that to intentionally confuse and simultaneously play a race card. I don’t know his history or if English is a second language or what, but the fact that my guts were going in that direction about him spoke to my flags being up.

That said, many of the things he talked about resonated with me, and the experiences I have had with food, and my philosophy on eating well. I am still interested in his cookbook and may in fact buy it.

Sunday morning: Day 2 of day 4 (maybe) and I am borderline zombie. It was an act of sheer will to get out of bed, even with Tim Minchin playing and a large cat person pawing at me to get up. The nutrition portion of the workshop yesterday lit a fire under my ass that I’ve been needing for a few months, and today we get to try some smoothie recipies that I hope to add to my arsenal. I have also concluded that a vitamix is no longer a nice-to-have, but rather an element of my health that is important to me, and it’s now at the top of my “once I’ve saved up a few months” list. I want more living food and seeds and pits and stems that I won’t eat without a blender that can break them down.

I came back Sunday knowing I would almost inevitably not be returning Monday or Tuesday, yet open to and even hoping for a more profound qigong experience. As per usual, I loved the second part of the nutritional lecture. The level 2 qigong sequence did very little for me, but that was fine — I already felt like I’d gotten my $99 worth in other information from the course, and had committed to finishing Sunday out so I’d also gotten 16 CE credits, which was a damn good deal.

By now, I could tell that 4 days of this experience really wasn’t for me, but on the second day I found that it seemed it was for the kinds of alternative healers and massage therapists I intentionally set myself apart from when I explain my practice on my website. The ones who claim to be human and real but behave as if they float a foot above the ground by the power of their perceived connection with some greater universal vibration, especially when collected in a sizable group.

Now that people had met and bonded a little, every portion of off-topic conversation around me that floated into my consciousness was about some kind of extreme philosophy, spirituality, some other form of energy work, discussing the intensity of the chi in the room, or anecdotal health advice. I imagine that was in large part because the people like me who weren’t sold simply weren’t speaking, but the environment began to color my experience, and I found myself in a consistent state of low-level annoyance.

Jeff had also taken to expanding his God/Bliss/Love talk, which was really starting to piss me off.

Sunday mid-day: Excellent. This is the last day of the food/nutrition portion, and I have decided to continue to take Monday and Tuesday off, for myself.

By mid-day, it was sealed: I would not be returning, and my time today and tomorrow were going to be better spent processing what I’d already experienced. We did some more qigong that day, including some walking qigong, and I found that I gravitated not only toward the smaller movements like spirals and pulses, but I preferred doing them while focusing on isolating different parts of my body in motion. I consider that a cool little tidbit of qigong that I am happy to have taken with me, and want to play with on my own.

After my lunch, and many hours of nutrition and excessive health lecturing, I passed Jeff Primack in the hallways of the convention center as he was carrying a bag of takeout. Huh.

Jeff spent a potion of Sunday afternoon talking about Chinese element philosophy in terms of personality and relationships, which was fun and interesting, but then completely lost me by his ending presentation on spirituality which was basically his take on how the world and people were created (people first, as receivers of Gods love, then the world, after we requested that we be capable of sharing as well as receiving).

Human beings are exceptionally complex and intricate, and no one is perfect, even if they imply that in some ways, they are. For a person who claims humility in his spiritual beliefs, Jeff Pirmack sure spends a lot of time “proposing” them to his students.

Additionally, Jeff speaks often in his lectures to the virtue of humility in teachers, yet teaches gigantic impersonal workshops to hundreds of people at a time, standing on a stage in a special costume on camera and under lights, often relying on misinformation and manipulation to synthesize a spiritual group experience. Though, to be honest, I eventually found the anonymity comforting, and appreciated that I was never approached or spoken to by him or any of his staff.

Similarly to the Landmark Forum, which I have also done, there are many things of value that can be taken from this mans performances. My concern is that a lot of people in that workshop did not have their critical thinking activated, and will not realize that was what they were witnessing, and will identify this man with a power he has not earned.

Sunday late night: Preparing for a long soak in a salted bath after enjoying an excellent homecooked meal with great friends. Fookyeah.

I liked a lot of things about the portion of Qi Revolution that I took, but none of them were the things that I was expecting to get based off the information I’d received in the mail. I went to a qigong workshop and ended up getting a food refresher by learning about Jeff Pirmack’s take on nutrition.

That said, it is clear that a tremendous about of work, planning and thought has gone into the various presentations that Jeff chooses to teach, and they are presented well. It is my opinion that there can be something for everyone in the first two days of this very affordable CE course. If he’s a swindler, he’s a pretty cool one, and I can think of a lot of people doing a lot more damage out there than this guy.

One of the most valuable elements of this experience for me was the connection I had with myself and my limits. Looking at the event-lineup on the website (note: There is no syllabus or paperwork regarding the course offered at this workshop) I am even more pleased with my decision to take my leave when I did. It appears as though the last two days revolve mainly around the 9-Breath exercise, which was being described in the course as a direct descendant of the “Breathing Empowerment” exercise.

Here’s a video showing a bit of what Jeff talks about that I agree with, portions of which I have found to be true in my life experience and other elements of my health/healer education. Here’s another one. I have a lot of notes that I plan to keep from this portion of the workshop, which I didn’t even realize I would be getting.

Jeffs courses are affordable. His materials, books, DVD’s, are all top quality productions and also affordable. Though some of his methods don’t jive with me, I still like him, and I expect after this writeup I will remain quiet and neutral about what he’s out there doing in the world. I will be contemplating many of the things I learned and discovered myself through attending his workshop for a long time and I found the experience valuable.

But really, I can’t help but say, in closing; to all the people who are still in Tacoma at the Qi Revolution workshop: Namaste, suckers. :P

Saturday, February 4th, 2012

You know, I often wonder what the ‘something’ that must be wrong with TJ’s brand food will end up being. Because really, it’s affordable, delicious and doesn’t have fake sweetener or HFCS or hydrogenated oils or ingredients I can’t pronounce. It appears to be simple, honest food at a fair price. Seriously, what am I missing here? Someone’s gotta be pulling one over on me.