Last night I attended a gallery opening on Chung King Road, a pedestrian street in Chinatown at the north end of downtown Los Angeles. Several years ago a weekend art opening would have been the impetus for other gallery and boutique owners to open their doors and show off their wares. A festive atmosphere would have spilled into the walkway illuminated by strands of red paper lanterns. Last night, the remaining store fronts were dark and vacant their doors blocked by metal gates. Overhead, rows of lights needed bulbs replaced underscoring the unfilled promise this art space once held. What happened to the revitalization of this neighborhood? Did the recession chase it away or will the art scene always have difficulty cultivating roots in this town ruled by entertainment? Thankfully all wasn't lost in the evening's quest for inspiration. The first piece I viewed in the gallery was vintage Jenny Holzer circa 1977 and brilliant.
When you start to like pain things get interesting. Pain is the common result of a subordinate position. Traditionally, suffering is uncomfortable and undesirable. Perhaps it is more intelligent to cultivate pain as a means of liberation? Is it possible that enjoyment of pain can be subversive? When one does not fear pain, one cannot be manipulated. When aroused by suffering, one can control any relationship. When agony ceases to be a barrier, death is not forbidding. The implications are marvelous. Pain is not oppressive, but strengthening and most sublime. It is necessary only to deny the pleasure/pain dichotomy.
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