G.i.g.a.t.t. In Action (on YouTube)!

Ladies and Gentlemen (echo, echo, echo).  We now present to you…the Gigatt Small Group!!!  Enjoy this short video.

Also find this video and more pictures on our FACEBOOK profile.

Art ATtaCk! April Edition ‘08. Fri.-Sun. 4/4-4/6

Whew! It’s busy on the blog, huh?!  Here’s some more…ART ATTACK WEEKEND in LOS ANGELES, baby!  Be there, or be hexagon.

EVENTS!

Fri. 4/4. 6:30p-7:30p. Terrace Cafe.  Hitcliff, our resident DC Dancer, may be offering Ballroom Dancing for us laymen and ladies.  The class is a big MAYBE, but if you’re around you might just check-in a little before/during that time and see what’s up; then follow your lesson up with our “Open Mic” nite at 8pm.  Same place. Same nite.

Location: 626 Coronado Terrace, Los Angeles, CA, 90026. (213) 273-7075

This Fri- Sat. April 4-6th. is our monthly Art Attack weekend.  Here’re this month’s details, with one big change…

Fri. 8p-9p. Terrace Cafe- Open Mic. Music, dance, spoken word…fun! (If you have a short video to share, bring that, too! We’re gonna try to get the flat screen to cooperate with us this time…anyone know how to bribe a t.v.?  Just askin…)    

Location: 626 Coronado Terrace, Los Angeles, CA, 90026. (213) 273-7075

Friday l8 nyt art: Chalk-Alot is on hold this month, guys.  Why?  Read Sunday’s blurb.  But, our ”Friday l8 nyt art” will return next month, and should remain rocksteady from that point on. Will keep you posted.

Sat. 3p-6:45p. Family Center Kitchen/Main Room - Creative Cookies  Cupcakes!  Just say, “Yum”.

Sun.

• 12noonish-1:30p. Art in Echo Park. 
• 2p-6p. Public Mural in Skid Row.  This is our community visual art, guys!

Come to Art in Echo Park or meet us there.  We leave for the mural @ 2:30p and will figure out carpooling with whoever’s there. 

The organization commissioning these community murals wants that block of Skid Row to be a light in a dark place.  So, we get a wonderful opportunity to be a blessing, touch lives we may never meet and be a part of something bigger than ourselves.  Join in! Bring clothes you can get messy in. 

So, yeah! Come out and exercise your right brain. Creativity is ageless, so there are no bones to break or tendons to strain.

Some thoughts as of late…

–Housing the Homeless Faire

November 15, 07

I went to a Housing the Homeless Faire today for work. Our organization was participating with the Housing Authority of Los Angeles in providing massive amounts of Section 8 vouchers for lower income folks. The day was actually disturbing for me, and at the end of it I wanted to burn my blue shirt that I had to wear to distinguish me as a worker at the event and not a participant. When really, the distinguishing line was pretty clear. Racial profiling, stereotypes is always an ongoing conversation in my head with God about these issues. Simply, I heard recently that the root of racism is the spirit of rejection, where people cast out a whole specific race of people. I’ve seen it in my family, in others, and in myself. The intensity and actions vary but I think in all of us there is such things that we are trained/developed/surrounded by in this society that classifies different people certain ways. The interesting thing is that stereotypes in some ways are true, yet not. Its an interesting paradox really, and maybe it is appreciating and valuing what different ethnicities/cultures bring instead of making fun, rejecting as one is better than the other. In truth, God has truly made us all different and unique and it seems that in America there is a general static line of success, appearance, achievement that some are striving for, looking for, and believing that once that is attained contentment will be found. When God didn’t create us to be the same, but to thrive and appreciate our differences.

I noticed today that most of the people waiting in the long lines, going back and forth in the disorganization of probably more than a 1,000 people at this event were non-white. There were tents outside per different organizations, and a lot of people sweating with children waiting in these long lines. This is after most taking public transportation for over an hour just to get there. I guess something in me sees something wrong in this, that as a general statement, it seems most non-white people are the ones in poverty. Is there something wrong here? What I personally felt embarrassed and guilty about was our Subway lunch we received as staff today. Picture the scene, a bunch of workers in the system, in their same blue shirts, sitting at tables eating their subway that was freely provided. And a bunch of other people at the event, who have struggled in so many ways to obtain affordable housing–the process, the way people treat them, the waiting. Waiting again, with not having eaten and watching us who are on staff stuff our faces with Subway. I felt awful walking through the sea of people staring at me while I tried to hide my subway bag behind me because I felt something naggingly wrong in my spirit.

Maybe what I felt is that everyone should be given fair opportunity, fair things…from Subway sandwiches to equal housing opportunities. These are all complex issues, well, probably not the sandwiches necessarily, but equal housing I mean. There are a lot of individual and systematic factors and I don’t really know the answer, the problem most of the time. But I continue to think and process about it.

I think the most interesting thing for me while working on the other side ofthe system is that I have seen perspectives in myself that make me cringe that I would even think that or operate off some robotic notion around me that treat people horribly. Maybe a part of human nature is we don’t like being told what to do and want to do it on our own terms. And maybe those trying to get things from agencies have learned to manipulate in different ways, or maybe they are just frustrated. Maybe our frustrations and lack of understanding of each other bump heads. And maybe workers respond in ways of saying no all the time because of “protocal” when really, we are assuming something sometimes that isn’t true about another person.

I will close with this example.

Today I was standing at the door into the expo center where people could enter once their agency brought them through. No one was getting by without their paperwork hand stamped by their agency and their case worker. A woman came up, asked if she could come inside to use the restroom. The man regulating the door stated to her that she could not come in, that she had to use the port o potties located across the field. She explained there was no toilet paper in them. He didn’t respond, except after a moment to repeat himself that he could not let her in. Ok, so their thoughts are people are going to try to sneak into the building and steal a Section 8 voucher, when really there is no way they would be able to ever do that with the whole stinkin process. But, lets deny a person the right to use a bathroom. Would you want to use a port o potty with no tissue vs. a clean bathroom inside right next to it?

—Starbucks, November 16th, 07

I got a gift card to here from work, and I used the rest of it today to get a nice latte. I’m not a big fan of Starbucks, prefer to purchase local when I can. But here I am, at a pretty nice location watching folks load up their lattes with more sugar and substitutes. I sit in the corner, journaling, submitting my resume and cover letter to a hopeful new position in Portland, Oregon where I will be tramping to next.

What I see is a lot of clean and dressed up people, pretention crosses their faces, their eyes are empty, but their lives seem to resemble perfection to some shallow passerbys.

As I write I notice someone next to me waiting for the bathroom, without directly looking at him, what I see out of my profilial vision is a man in a beanie, jeans, and a large backpack. It seems he may be homeless. I have to use the bathroom pretty bad at this point, and make a note to myself that I may not want to use this bathroom after him.

A few moments later I look up to see him exiting the bathroom to leave the coffee shop. He opens the door to leave,then pauses for a second before exiting to take a step back with the door in hand. I look at his face in this brief moment and its filled with this soft beauty and compassion, covered partially by a long and ruffled beard. But his eyes speak life and care for others. Yet they also speak tiredness and rough treatment from other humans. A younger woman passes by, darting through the door, head covered by a hooded sweatshirt, looking down, weaving a bit to the left as to increase her proximity to this homeless man. He has a slight smile on his face, maybe reveling in that feeling when you serve others out of good intentions, how good it feels to love.

I guess I’m amazed really at his life, at what he represents, at what you can see so simply from someone without them even opening up their mouths. I see this greatness in him, yet at the same time, I am confronted with my nastiness as I still wouldn’t want to use the bathroom after him.

Where I parked my pen last Sunday – ART IN THE PARK

Where I parked my pen last Sunday? Art in the Park! GIGATT’s very second art in the park last Sunday, across Angelus Temple, in the Park (no kidding) was another great success. Easels, paints, painters, writers, non-writers, food lovers, kids, adults, gathered together to make a colorful mix! Some artists were born (or maybe not), some artists were made. I just thoroughly enjoyed that pristine feeling of being under a tree, armed with nothing but a pen and a piece of paper.

Quoleshna was right at the middle of the action (to be known as queuey from now on). Sarah, always present, sat in quiet merriment, painting the town (literally). The Singles Small Group brought the food (there ya go! glorify God in your singleness!) which was well appreciated. We had chicken, coleslaw, mashed potatoes and sliced sweet bread. (Did I mention that we’re also health freaks? NOT.) Wait till the newest sub-group of GIGATT comes together. (hint. hint.) We’ll never eat fast food again. (never as in not for a while).

After some colorful fellowship, The Dreamweavers convened for the first writer’s meeting of the month. The assignment discussed was “My Letter to the Church.” The question: If you were Paul and you were to write a letter to the Church, what would you say? Everybody had something good to share. Jason, one of our new members deserves special mention for his very Paulinian contribution. (did i mention that we’re all new anyway) See his verbal prowess in the coming posts as I will be posting the homeworks of everyone. (those who are willing).

Writing exercises followed. I coerced, er, I mean asked to them to write from the perspective of an inanimate object. The point: empathizing with objects. No seriously, the point is: learning the idea of voice; developing the skill of writing the accurate voice of a created character. I also asked them to write about their favorite place. The point: establishing setting.

Homework for next next week to those who weren’t there or those who weren’t able to catch it: Write your very own parable.

Please feel free to comment with insights, the stuff you wrote during the meeting, smileys, or anything at all!