the prostitution of art


i miss Mobius

this weekend i got to return and visit my friends at Mobius for a very sad occasion — Carol and i went out to Studio Soto to see Bob Raymond’s phenomenal photography on display and to celebrate his life and work and to show support for his amazing family

i still can’t believe he’s gone

in fact, i refuse to believe he’s gone — its really impossible to believe people simply disappear when they die, that they go away forever

i’m not sure i believe in heaven, my beliefs are more complex than imagining a ‘good place’ and ‘bad place’ for people to go when we all die — i do, however, believe that we live a self-created heaven or hell right here on earth, and that we, in fact, build these scenarios through our own actions, beliefs, participation and contributions in life

as we gathered to say goodbye to Bob Raymond and potentially make sense of this strange mystery, the idea that we all die one day — as we try to fathom how the show goes on after the death of such an extraordinary man — i couldn’t help but see the 80 or so photographs from his oeuvre on display around the room as the most inspiring and unbelievable peek into Bob’s personal heaven on earth through his life with Marilyn and with his family at Mobius — each moment captured on film in these amazing prints hung in little clusters of 6, 8 and 10 around Studio Soto seems to now represent a blink, a heartbeat, a pulse, a little glimpse into what Bob saw and how he actually saw it — and in many ways he lived always with his eyes glued to the world of the fantastic, moments painted into the retina by the always memborable and fascinatingly ecelectic body of work performed by members of the Mobius Artist Group over the course of the several decades since the organization’s official establishment in 1977

Bob somehow magically seemed to appear at every single Mobius event i have ever attended — we’d talk in the moments before and after an evening of performance art, somehow catching up on the latest personal small talk, minutae, details that usually led a happy bursts of laughter — he would be the person i’d return to for additional guidance when helping physically set up equipment out at an Artrageous Fundraiser — or maybe i’d have a question or 2 about the PA setup for a Radio Pu gig or some other Works in Progress event — when i think of Mobius, of going to Mobius and being there, Bob is just always there — and I refuse to believe that he now just goes away because of his passing

i mean, i truly want him to rest, i don’t mean to imply that even after his death he needs to somehow continue to serve Mobius and the MAGs from the other side, please don’t take my sentiment here as some sort of command to continue your hard work for Mobius and the international world of experimental performance art — please don’t misinterpret my words here

i guess what i mean is that from here on in, even after his passing, when i come to attend or participate in a Mobius event Bob will still be there — i am certain i will feel it — i will see those future moments, new glimpses into the fantastic, into the unreal and otherworldly, and i will see with Bob’s heart and spirit — his energy will continue to be with us, will continue on, and we will make our art for Bob to see some other unimaginable world that isn’t up in a castle made of clouds above the earth, but instead we will carry Bob in our hearts, in our minds, in our bodies and our souls — that heaven is a place deep inside that we open up to him, where we accept the pain of his passing and savor the joy that he left behind

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