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Tuesday, March 9, 2010

The silence of this place is starting to clear away the mess of my soul. There isn’t much to do here right now since I don’t have permission to film and this is forcing me to sit and breathe and cry and sit and breathe. This morning I woke up and took Moses for a walk… or rather he took me for a walk because here he’s free to roam and is no real need of walks. Before long I was sitting at the overlook outside of town listening to the wind rustle in the leaves overhead. I’ve been in San Andres for three days and for the first time I feel like a bit of my spirit is returning to me. There’s still a lot of pain, mainly as a result of the pain I know I’ve caused others, in addition to the pain that comes from the fear and lack of faith that sometimes takes hold. I think this pain will be with me for a long time, and although my heart will remain open, I feel the lone wolf has me securely in its jaws once again. The wolf is an interesting animal… I’m grateful to have it as one of my totems.

On returning back to Tranquilino’s I arrived to find the kids playing outside… playing nothing in particular… just playing. They are mesmerized by Moses and so I show them how he sits, lays down and fetches a stick. They giggle when he chases the stick, and they giggle more when I chase him, and soon I find that I too am giggling and laughing… genuinely… for the first time in weeks.

There is no doubt in my mind that this place is healing me.

There’s also the matter of perspective. My brother was telling me last week of a 26yr old man who he met with cancer who is dying.. end here Tanquilino with six children in a small house made of dirt has a wife in the hospital about to have open-heart surgery. Things could be worse, and I’m grateful to be alive and feel all the pain and misery of the life that I’m living. I’m grateful to have people who love me enough to support me in my insatiable inner need to walk this road less traveled…

In the afternoon I walk to the town center and sit… something tells me if I sit there long enough something will happen. It’s weird to operate on this level of intuition… when you don’t know why you’re doing something, only that it needs to be done. So I sit, for about ten minutes. There’s a government truck with some guys in it, another young Huichol guy sits across the square hanging out watching me. A giant grasshopper walks by, I take it’s picture. Nothing magical or mysterious has occurred… so I head back home. But as soon as I get home I’m compelled back to the square, Moses is looking at me like, what… we were just there.

Back in the square I decide to walk upstairs in the main building to talk to the Governor about gaining permission to film. I get upstairs and no one is there, a packsack is in the corner. All of a sudden the young Huichol man is there behind me. We talk for a bit and it turns out he isn’t Huichol at all, but has traveled from Cuernavaca, Mexico to see a shaman at the next town over. We talk some more and his name is Andres, and he has been walking for days to get here, so close, but not quite there. He’s looking for a ride. I tell him about how I plan to talk to the Shaman of San Andres when he returns in a few days, and then it hits me that maybe I’m supposed to go visit this Shaman Andres is talking about instead. So I offer him a ride. On the walk back to the van, I know intuitively that the shaman he’s seeking is not for me, and that I am meant to wait, but I tell him I’ll give him a ride all the same since it will be beautiful to see another smaller Huichol community.

He accepts and off we go, to see the Shaman, who it turns out is Tranquilino’s uncle in law. He sends his greatings with us... Funny how things happen.

We drive an hour across bumpy roads to the next town and the Shaman isn’t there… he’s off in Real de Catorce gathering plant medicines. Andres, not sure what to do, hums and haws for a bit until finally we leave back to San Andres. Andres doesn’t have a penny to his name, no food, and nowhere to sleep, but I have a feeling about him and I think it’ll be ok. It’s funny, because here I am helping people again, the savior with the van…

Tranquilino tells Andres he can tent in the yard, and I make some gruel out of the van, and we eat it with fresh tortillas (best I've had in Mexico) made on the fire inside the house.

Seems all is well,

peace,d

Monday, March 8, 2010
Location: San Andres, Mexico

After arriving yesterday in San Andres, Tranquilino brought me to meet the Governor. He wasn’t at his office so we milled around for a bit and just as we were about to leave, an unshaven man in full Huichol dress appears. Tranquilino informs me this is the Governor and I relay a message to him from Rocio. I then explain to him that I have no idea why I’m here except that my heart has directed me. He smiles knowingly. I tell him, all in broken Spanish, that I’m a filmmaker, but that right now I’m here for personal reasons and I would like to stay to visit with his permission for a few days and return for Semana Santos celebration. I also tell him that I have an offering and I would like to meet with the Shaman of town because I feel my spirit and heart is broken and I need vision. He responds telling me many things that I don’t understand through the language barrier, but I understand enough to know that I am welcome and I can sleep at either his or Tranquilino’s house.

On the walk back to the van, Tranquilino explains I am welcome to park at his place, and I accept gratefully. I tell him I'd like to do some work in order to not indulge my personal sadness. He tells me there isn’t much work to do, except to go get some water.

It’s funny how water keeps coming back around… off we go in the van with giant Roto-Plas container to get water. After filling it, I spend to whole afternoon moving it by bucket from the container in my van (450L) to a neighbors container on the ground, then back to the original container now by Tranquilino’s house. It’s really an archaic and ridiculous process but I’m grateful for the work, and eventually it’s all back in one spot ready to use to flush toilets, bathe, and cook with.

peace,d

Sunday, March 7, 2010
Location: San Andres, Mexico

I awoke this morning to the sound of Tranquilino’s baby boy speaking outside my van. As I looked out the window they both sat on the sidewalk patiently waiting for me. I rubbed the sleep and tears from my eyes and got dressed.

Vulnerability & Truth: I cry twice a day these days… sometimes just a bit… sometimes deep guttural sobs where I feel like I’m being torn in half. It seems, no matter how hard I call my spirit back to me it doesn’t come. Thoughts and feelings tied into faith and doubt take hold and overwhelm me… I’ve been clinging to faith and inner strength… Lately I feel that in facing my shadow I have become a shadow of myself… Daniel is simultaneously leaving and becoming… the vessel is being emptied... like it or not.

A university professor once visited Nanin, a Japanese Zen master to inquire about Zen. Nanin served the man tea, pouring his visitor's cup full and continued pouring. The professor watched the overflow until he could no longer restrain himself. "It is full to overflowing. No more will go in!" he said. Nanin replied, "Like this cup, you are full of your own opinions and speculations. How can I show you Zen unless you first empty your cup?

I think to empty the vessel and let go can be as simple as breathing… then why is there so much pain emanating from within me? The only answer I’ve found is attachment, expectation and my resulting judgments... the suffering comes from holding onto these along with a healthy mix of fear… and reality.

In reality there is no good or bad… only what IS, and what IS, if we can step outside ourselves and our egos, IS perfection… I think that’s the meaning of faith.

But for the moment… faith is a hard road and I’m no use to anyone, including myself like this. (So my self-indulgent ego is saying…) Yesterday I was in Guadalajara… and I actually seriously thought about stepping out in front of a bus… I felt how it would all go blank… an easy fix to suffering. I never thought I could feel like this…

I have no one to blame but myself for the pain I’m feeling. I chose THIS, all of it, including what is becoming a BIG step for me… to kill the part of myself that has had a stranglehold on me ALL my life. I’m killing a bullshit savior complex because it’s all tied up in ego, built up in my childhood and then reinforced by me throughout my life. There’s a time when we have to take personal responsibility and realize that we are our only problem… that it is only ourselves standing in our own way.

In clinging to this false ego-based image of myself, I’ve denied those I Love of their right to BE. In order to be the savior we have to create and believe in a victim, and in doing so we deny people their ability to take care of themselves. In supporting the illusion that someone needs you, you only reinforce the idea that they need you… and thus you are needed. The Reality IS, nobody actually needs saving, except me… here and now… from myself.

From what I’ve seen of this world, this is usually the case for most of us… but being either the victim or the savior, and we all play both roles as we see fit, is all too easy and tantalizing. The universal ad campaign supporting these ego-identities does its work well… it’s built into us from the moment we’re born, and we a do good job in reinforcing it for each other along the way.

So now, rubble inside and behind me, I have retreated into the silence and solitude, my old haunting grounds… ever-slowly letting go… not of love, not of truth, not of anything that is real… but of the illusions I’ve built up around myself that aren’t serving me or anyone I love anymore. Somehow, In ALL of this chaos, falling apart, and letting go, I’m honoring a deep faith and intuition, one that defies all logic and understanding. I’m walking, feeling blind, but walking all the same.

I was sobbing to my brother on the phone the other day… and reassuring me, he said, “When you chose this life, no one ever said it was going to be easy… but remember... you chose it.”

… too damn right.

peace,d

Saturday, March 6, 2010
Location: Huejuquilla en-route to San Andres

I’m parked on a small road that leads into the small town of Huejuquilla. I pulled myself out of my self-created-sorrow the other day to go to a small party and exhibition to raise funds for the community of San Andres in the mountains of Northern Jalisco.

At the party I met a woman named Rocio who vibrates with love and a deep genuine power rooted in humility. Rocio has lived and worked with the Huicholes for most of her life and is the founder of Casa Huicholes in Guadalajara. Casa Huichol is a place Huichol individuals can live for free in Guadalajara while they get needed medical assistance. In addition to providing this urban shelter, Rocio also collects donations and organizes fund-raisers to gather money that goes directly to the community of San Andres.

I introduced myself to Rocio, told her of my journey, and explained to her that I’d like to visit San Andres. I asked her if she thought this was possible and with a twinkle in her eye she replied, “Everything is possible!”

So here I am two days later… I am on my way, and have also been charged with giving a lift to two Huichol men and they’re two small children. Felipe is in his early forties and has a boy Oliver who is eight. Tranquilino is in his late thirties with his child of one and a half. I have become what is called among the Huichols, the point of the arrow, providing them a ride home.

Today I drove about seven hours to get here to this town where Felipe and Oliver are catching another ride to their home. Tranquilino will continue on with me to San Andres tomorrow where I am supposed to meet the governor of the community in order to be welcomed in.

There hasn’t been much talk on the drive today because I haven’t been sleeping too well lately and I’m too tired to work through my Spanish. The silence is a much-needed respite from the noise of Guadalajara, and has created some space for my mind to process all that has happened lately.

I have a good feeling about heading up to the mountains… back into the void of the unknown.

peace,d

So after following numerous leads for about two months I´ve been invited through a doorway to visit the Huichol communities of San Sabastian and San Andres... I´m very grateful for this opportunity and am traveling with an open heart and good intentions. I´m not yet sure why or even where I´m going, but I have faith in the process, and no matter how difficult it`s been of late... I´m ever-grateful for ALL my guides, the learning, and the growth.

I leave Guadalajara tomorrow to give three Huichol individuals a lift home... they will act as my initial guides. It should be interesting since I speak only a little Spanish and they speak no English.

You can read some basic information about the Huicho HERE.

I will be back somewhere around Mar 12-15 to meet my original project assistant and friend Forbes Campbell in Guadalajara. We may then return to the mountains for the annual Semana Santos (Easter) Celebration.

Forbes is rejoining the Searching for Dragons Film Project after three years to help me finish this long road. I am grateful to have his support.

paz, amor, y luz,
d

There's nothing like getting your hands dirty and doing some hard work to give you a sense of purpose and make your body feel good. It's especially lovely when the work you're doing is creative and filled with love.
I arrived back in Guadalajara en-route to Zecatacas... I knew I´d get sucked in again by Frank´s charismatic charm and I wasn't wrong. Knowing I love to build from my last visit a week ago, it took no time for him to make me an offer. Free room and board here in downtown Guadalajara in exchange for a little creative labor and letting guests into the hostel at night. Living free sounds really good right now considering my financial status, there are a few more shots I´d like to get from Guad, and I feel the need to create something tangible in a few days... rather than the epic magnitude of my current film.


So off we go... We start by knocking out a concrete shelf with a sledge hammer. Everything down here is built out of concrete unlike back home in Canada where we tend to build with wood. So it´s a great opportunity to develop new building skills.


This project is leaving me feeling strong and grounded and I feel like I'm rebuilding my own foundation as I work. I've literally and metaphorically lost my footing a few times on this journey south, and there have been many times I've felt lost, but I think sometimes having a lack of direction is a direction in and of itself... since all roads lead to Rome.


d

I was down in Chumulco soaking in the hot springs where I met a man who told me the town of Cocula was 10 minutes away.. and is the birth place of the Mariachi. He told me I should go film.. I thought it was a good idea. All of a sudden he's calling the restaurant and making arrangements for a private table.

Next thing I know I'm stuck in a restaurant where I'm the only foreigner stuck filming mariachis. The whole restaurant is staring at me and I can't grab the quick samples and leave because I'm obliged by the special table and courtesy.

Short and sweet.. always watch out for people doing you favors. I ended up leaving after a 100 pesos meal, when I could have eaten for 20 pesos up the street. But captured some good 8 & 16mm, so I'm grateful.

Apologize for the shit digital cam pic.

paz,d

A nice poem sent to me by my friend Vonda... Thx sweetie. paz,d

Do not stand at my grave and weep
I am not there. I do not sleep.
I am a thousand winds that blow.
I am the diamond glints on snow.
I am the sunlight on ripened grain.
I am the gentle autumn rain.
When you awaken in the morning's hush
I am the swift uplifting rush
Of quiet birds in circled flight.
I am the soft stars t...hat shine at night.
Do not stand at my grave and cry;
I am not there. I did not die.

- Mary Elizabeth Frye

Sunday February 21, 2010
Location: Villa Corona, Mexico

Left Patzcauro early Friday morning after connecting with some nice people that may eventually lead to a few interviews. It was only a few hours before I arrived in Paracho, famous for it’s guitar makers and stores awash in musical instruments of every kind.

I wandered around Paracho feeling a bit lost before I finally decided there wasn’t much worth filming aside from some small image samples. However I couldn’t leave this famous town without first buying a guitar… a cheap guitar… for 400 pesos or 40 bucks. I gave my last guitar to a friend during a personal meltdown in Utah, so it’s nice to have music back in my life… or at least the tools to create music, since I’m still learning.

From Paracho I headed down to Angahuan which is famous for being next to what was once the town of San Juan. You see San Juan was one of the largest municipalities of Mexico back in the early 1900’s before the Paricutin Volcano erupted in 1943. The volcanic eruption first began as a massive earthquake, before the ground opened up in this farmer’s field and began to emit steam and ash.

Soon the lava started flowing, and continued over the next nine years eventually covering the entire town. Everything was destroyed with the exception of the massive church that had been a central monument and center for prayer of a town that Raymundo estimates was around three thousand people. Although the lava knocked down many of the walls and covered much of the building, the steeple remained intact and to this day stands in memory of the community that was once there.

Pulling into Angahuan there are several guys offering horseback rides up to see the volcano and remaining church. I think it’s important to hire these guys and toss them a few pesos for the local economy. There was one older gentleman who approached my van with cane and sombrero and offered me his services. I asked him if he had a horse and he laughed and said no, he walks giving the tour on foot. He then went on to explain that he is eighty-two years old and was fifteen years old when the actual eruption occurred.

This was my man. I haggled with him over the price for a bit and then invited him into my van. As he climbed aboard I could see that his old knees were clearly in pain. The forty minute hike was going to be interesting.

Much to my surprise Raymundo was quick on his feet, hobbling along in front of me knocking rocks away with his cane and moving swiftly. As we walked he explained (all in Spanish) the morning of the first earthquake, and how the ground opened up. He told me how although no one died it was very sad that the volcano erupted because for years there was no food for people or animals due to a lack of crops caused by the thick layer of ash that had fallen.

Raymundo took me up through the field of volcanic lava and along the way showed me the remnants of houses embedded deep in the lava. If it weren't for him I' wouldn't have even noticed these stone walls amidst the volcanic rock. It's incredible to consider the power of nature and it's ability to reshape our world.

On the way back from the guided tour I asked Raymundo if he was willing to sit for an on-camera dialog the following day. He smiled and replied that it would be his pleasure since very few people care about history anymore. He told me people come and visit the site take pictures and leave, without ever having a true sense of what happened.

I slept in the parking lot of the tourist facilities for 50 pesos, and fiddled with my new guitar. The following day Raymundo and I met up for our talk and he explained the whole event from beginning to end. How the earth shook and opened up, the sadness, how many people considered it a miracle, but how he saw it only as an act of nature. He was a bit shy to be on camera but was wonderful overall since his deep aged voice resonated well into the lavalier microphone I rigged him with.

I hiked back to the site after our talk to capture a timelapse on HD and met with a young guy selling necklaces, he motioned me to the obsidian, and seeing the chain I couldn't help but toss him a few pesos for it. I talked with him and his girlfriend for awhile, but with the language barrier we didn't get too far. As I left he told me we could speak without words since we were on the same energy level where we could speak from the heart... as least that's what I think he said ;-)

I left town feeling good like although I had been lost and having a hard time a few days earlier here I was found again... but I knew it wouldn't be long before I was directionless once more. So it goes I guess, so is my process of letting go and handing things over to a higher power. Faith isn't easy... especially when the universe doesn't always agree with us.

Pulling out of town I met up with Raymundo again, who took my hand in his and gave me blessings for my journey and my family. Something happened between us in those few days, I felt a kinship with him, and he looked at me like a grandfather would a grandson. It was strange considering my own grandfathers death that was close at hand... it may sound wonky but there was something comforting in his gaze, as though he was a messenger telling me not to worry, he was going to take care of me.

peace,d