I have the best friends in the world

I have come to see the gift in good friends. Over the years, I have traveled, relocated, migrated to various places (Balto-D.C., Austin, Santa Fe, Boulder, Aspen, Nepal), reinventing myself each time--revealing yet another layer of self, inspiration, ambition, acceptance. So, as I've been anchoring myself here in FW (7 years now--wow), there has been a turnabout of sorts. I get to be the harbor, the open door, welcome mat, and friendly porch. Friends, fellow artists and travelers, sometimes stop in--without notice in some cases. When this happens, it is a blessing, better than Chippendale dancers at the door with fistfuls of candy and flowers.

On Thursday night, I was working quietly at home, when the phone rang. Hello, a call from Patrisia Gonzales--writer, columnist, Ph.D candidate at the University of Wisconsin-Madison, and fellow Chicana Texas girl, who went to the same Catholic school with me back in the 70s. She and life partner, Roberto--who also pens COLUMN OF THE AMERICAS, a syndicated column of politics, post-colonialism, indigenous healing and arts and other fortifying flavors, were on their way to stop in for a visit. Mere blocks from my house, and heading back to Wisconsin very soon. Of course, yes, come over, hang up so I can straighten up a little before you get here.

And so, here they were, in my humble bungalow (the local realtors' term of choice to describe small houses, circa 1920s, such as mine). Patrisia and Roberto on the sofa, checking in with me, my life, and offering stories of their recent efforts. Being "ABD" or "all but dead", as Roberto put it. They are on the job hunt now, and will be traveling around for interviews here and there. Paty herself has made it to a final selection process with a university in Toronto; if hired, she'd be teaching in the school's department of "Indigenous Healing." A perfect match for both her spiritual and scholarly interests, I'd say. She and Roberto aren't sure, however, that they're willing to become tenured "frozen academes" in Canada, particularly since they've been dealing with heavy, long Wisconsin winters for about three years now.
(Patrisia and Roberto suited up for a promo foto.)

The visit was brief, as Roberto was melting into the sofa from exhaustion and they had a long drive back to Paty's parents' home in Johnson County. It ended all too soon, and we quickly scurried for a gift exchange. I presented them with hand-made candles and a picture of my September '06 butoh performance, and Paty ran out to the car to bring back a copy of Robbie Robertson's 1998 release "Contact from the Underworld of Redboy." Cool, Robbie's been attuning to his indigenous roots (his mother's of Mohawk descent), and I've heard that he works with singers like Ulali and Joanne Shenandoah. According to a Rolling Stone critic, "...all the diverse aspects on 'Contact From the Underworld of Red Boy' cohere into a compelling whole, a national chronicle of glory and shame, a personal story ringing with conviction."

In 2007, I hope that more of my traveling and worldly comrades and colleagues have a moment to stop by my bungalow and share some tea, conversation, and hugs of amistad. So may it happen.