Syncona Mesa

Far off from my next neighbour
Syncona Mesa
Springtime at Syncona
Coo Doves in a Family way.

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This is my sanctuary for  the past twenty years.  Produced tons of Art, in all media, that went out into the world. Made a mark and made a living.  Now it a residence. There is a difference. Before I would seek solace and find my depth. I would get in touch with the Vortex that originate and radiate from this Table. Its always there, place settings for however many people present. I was the  sole guest for many stellar events. My tentacles ever reaching, to possess the spirits that avail themselves. Now I am in permanent observation. A turbulent flow in the absence of external forces.  Exposed, I am.  How will I respond to this pressure?

For one thing, its distracting as hell. There is always something. Every day is capitol. My first day on the Mesa was in the middle of Summer. The temperature was 120 degrees but felt welcoming. The creosotes blossoms were popping, filling the air with this resinous fumes. Its miasma took my breath away. As I gaged almost passing out, my thought was, I am too weak to live in this shit. But, the challenge to live in it was alluring. The seasons are distinct as the east and the west. Its climate is Caribbean and its Araby. The  winds are the nemesis and must be respected.  I have been close to ruination often.

Then there is the the arid land that hold all the minerals from the ground water. Great for bathing, but too unsafe for drinking regularly. But I find myself downing a glass ever so often to enrich my system. Certain plants cannot thrive in this environ. Oleanders, Palms, Eucalyptus and Evergreens flourish.

The wild life is ever present. Over the years I allowed them to have  sanctuary. A leaking sprinkler on the north side that I let drip, eventually formed a pond. With the high position of the mesa it attract Birds of passage. Roadrunners, owls, quails, Coo Doves, varieties of finches and sparrows. Lately the Crows are ever present. Late Spring the Falcons and Hawks appear to thin the population.

Cayotes, Bobcats, Wild dogs, Packrats and other Rats make their eventful appearances. Snakes, scorpions, Vinegarones, spiders, wasps and Bees are constantly invading the space. Once my dog  Tyson, let in a snake. I think he was spellbound by it. My son Berhane has a second sense with Scorpions and Vinegarones. He would sense them in the house and find them. The latter are like Scorpions without the tail with stinger. They do bite hot, and for a day or so, my spit had the taste of vinegar.

Then the season of the Bees. Discovering that they had set up living in the siding of the house. Waking up to what I though was an overcast turned out to be a swarm, blocking the morning Sun. Then the frightening thing, they zoomed in and pitched on the side of the house. I ran outside to see the spectacle.

They had cover the whole side of the house. The middle where a knot hole is located in the cedar siding, they converged into it like a whirlpool. In minutes they disappeared inside. Thousands of bees were now occupying  a cavity of the house.

The siding had to be removed. The queens found and two Honey combs removed. The Honey combs were the size of a extra large pizza, about a inch and a half thick, filled with delicious creosote tasting honey.

One of the most devastating ruin was from the water. The source, a Well only 90 feet down. Its totally live. All the minerals and diverse properties, being pumped out the ground at 98 degrees.

The other was a wind storm.  The winds up here, on average is 10 to 20 miles a hour. Being on a Mesa in direct path to the San Gorgonio Pass. That where the San Jacinto and San Gorgiono Mountains meet. That Pass accelerate the winds into a vortex aimed at the Mesa I call Syncona.

The saga of the Water ruin, I will tackle on another musing. Also the Wind storms, they have made two special visits over the years.  They will need their own rumination.

The year that it Hailed and Snowed was remarkable. I experienced a total contentment of being  truly Blessed. The mystical implications in regards to my work at the time, wasn’t explored and I should have. But, I was working on a show at the time. The event served as a sign that I was flourishing, on the right track. See, there was doubt. There was a lingering fear at that time.

That was the show that was visited by three Yuroba Priestesses.   Orishas from countries in the Caribbean. They were attending a convention in Maimi Beach, Florida, of  Yuroba Priestess from  the Diaspora. The visit was especially because of the works I am doing with the Revival Series.  A Symbolic communication was implied with this visitation. They were sent by the ancestor Eshu. To inform me of an entity that was in my surroundings that was not meant for me. So they told me, after doing a huddle to confirm whether or not they should clue me in. This too,  will have to take another musing to tell the whole story.  Actually, its a Saga that spanned over ten years.

By the River, can’t get a drink.

In my early life, I was  a struggling Artist.? At every turn I was unable to get any recognition or reward for my work. I was at the River banks of the money flow and couldn't get wet. Get the drift ?
In my early life, I was a struggling Artist.? At every turn I was unable to get any recognition or reward for my work. I was at the River banks of the money flow and couldn’t get wet, much less have a cup, to get a scoop. Get the drift ?   Love the metaphor of the River of Money. My Dad used it to give me a life lesson on getting hold of money. I was already grown at fifteen and full of myself, didn’t get it. My concern with possessing money was already eroded  because of the lack of it in my Mother’s world as a boy. I was already transformed into the idealist. That young man’s whose aim was to create the persona that would support a creative life in Art. This Painting from the Rag Series expresses the craving that I had developed, when the realities of being an Independent Artist exposed itself. There I was, just out the forest in search of the river. I was in the clearing, I could smell, hear, and see the water as it flows. I am trying to reach its banks, only the footing on the bed rocks is a challenge to surmount. occasionally i slip and get my ankles wet. Still I want to get closer, for a dip at first, then I was too deep and swimming in the swift current was not pleasant. I wish to be back on the banks. If I could just get hold of a vessel I would have a share.
This is my musing on my position in the metaphor that inspired this piece, from the Rag Series. The struggle to get a foot hold, then, to get so deep, there is still a survival issue, need to get a vessel, never having a pleasant experience by the River of money. While, some people are still trying to get to the clearing from out of the forest, some are on the banks, too busy getting a footing on the rocks, some are ankle deep, some are up to their waist, some with Vessels,  some are wading, and some are swimming for their life.

 

 

 

 

 

Art life on Syncona Mesa.

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