“I like how you’re Jewish, but you’re more Mexican than me,” I told my homegirl. She’s from San Diego, farther south than my homeland.
We were in her lesbian conveyance–aka Subaru–listening to Gasolina by Daddy Yankee.
“It’s actually Puerto Rican,” she said. “Daddy Yankee is Puerto Rican.”
We were talking about Reggaeton, music, beats, culture.
“This video is bad for my mental health,” I said. “It undoes a lot of work that I’ve done, loving my fat body.” I watched thin ladies shake their butts on my homegirl’s phone screen. “I’ve never looked like that.”
She closed the visual as the song played through her car’s speakers.
“I missed a lot,” I said, considering 2004. “I was hanging out with a lot of white people at that time.”
popular culture
Looking back on my life, my Mexican-American existence…. I thought how my university years and grad school years, I was abducted from my background of origin; I lacked popular culture. I’d stuffed myself into a literature world–maybe into an ivory tower.
At the time it made sense, but there’s a lot more than white people and university concerns, in this world. That’s for damn sure.
But since when have I done popular culture properly? It’s bad for my mental health, the values are often fucked, and I don’t like movies. I have a lot of other things to do, like creating media of my own in the form of art and writing.
meanwhile
Meanwhile, culture marches on. Like time, there’s no stopping it. For your enjoyment, here are some construction workers, maybe? covering Gasolina.
https://www.instagram.com/p/C69BT-JREYp/
I’m working on elephant garlands while listening to a robot read me a book online. The elephant garlands are not done, but here are a few beginning pics.
Not sure why Spirit is leading me to make elephant garlands, but Ming and I saw some in a store in Mt Shasta. I said, “Oh, I could make elephant garlands.” I’m using reclaimed product packaging cardstock, my medium of choice.
My friend told me elephants are the best mothers. So maybe that.
