No Matter Where You Go, There You Are.

         Just to give you an indication of where I'm going with this, the original title of this post started with the word, "Appreciation". I’ve been changed by a documentary I found on YouTube. If you’ve been deeply impacted by a doc about an individual, I’d love to hear from you; I’d like to see what you learned and how you have changed your life based on it, because this is an intense, uncommon experience for me, and I’m gonna gush now about an influential young man I never knew:             Jordan Robinson.             I’m so thankful to the filmmaker behind this, Justin Robinson . As he put it, this movie was [“about a brother, by a brother”], and I can’t imagine how difficult and/or therapeutic it was to make, but without the film, there would be one less lovely testament to Jordan out in the world, which some of his loved on...

           It was about a young man, an immigrant. I never learned what his first language was and by the time I heard him speak, he sounded American-raised (and thankfully, this was a dream, so I could get away with turning around to be his audience for what felt like minutes plural). He didn't know anybody when he moved to town, so short, so skinny, in baggy athleisure with truly icky hair choices.            You know when someone's hair is really short, but still styled in a questionable way that makes you think, 'It deserves so much better'? I know you've heard me go on and on about acceptance and patience and my pursuit of non-judgment, and everything I've said is what I'm really up to, but I have moments of choosing my old ways and...here I go, being catty, because...this hair. It involved skinny pieces of hair pointed down his forehead as if he didn't understand what "bangs" or "fringe...

          My mom 's a talented artist and recently, she had a painting to drop off to Rochester Contemporary Art Center as part of an upcoming exhibition, so she kindly invited me to come along. She was all, “I could get us tickets to Andy Warhol!”, which, for each of us, is an offer that’s quite hard to resist, so I said yes (I mean, duh ), and the trip introduced me to other impactful, fantastic work. Partway through my time in the Memorial Art Gallery, I started thinking about sharing notes with you on what I saw. I’m including images! Also, there were long conversations with my wonderful mom who threatened to abandon me in that city, far from home, only four times! Did I make it home? Click to find out!...Or check your pantry. I’m on a kick that involves late night rendezvous with a tub of creamy peanut butter and a spoon.