Through a Glass Darkly

So, last night resolved better than I thought it would, despite the fact that I got very little sleep. I did end up going over to Hammer's and had quite a nice time! When I got there, she was hanging out with Maximus who told me (again) what a beautiful voice I have. It made me feel good. I haven't seen Maximus since the night of Hammer's party, and as we were both drunk and high that night, and he crashed on my couch, I couldn't quite tell what he thought of me. Last night, he was nice and tried to encourage me about the whole sobriety thing. Hammer and I have been spending a lot more time together recently, and I think it's good for us. After Maximus left, we watched three episodes of Sex in the City (I can't STAND Kim Cattrall's voice!) and then Hammer got an IM from Mohawk. She was giddy and started writing to him. It was nearly 1:00 am, so I headed home.

(BTW-- B finally called me back which was a MAJOR relief. I get so worried sometimes).

Anyway, this weekend was nice, despite the anxiety I've had about quitting. (If I get through today, that's seven days!) On Friday, after teaching, I decided to hang around on the Upper West Side. NDN was sitting shiva for his grandfather and we had plans to go to synagogue that evening. I went up to the Columbia area and walked around and then made my way back down to 86th street to meet NDN. While we were waiting to get into the service, I made eye contact with a girl who looked very familiar. It turns out she was in my college choir. She was two years behind me, but as I was hyper-involved in the choir and on managing board every year, I knew everyone. We said our obligatory "hellos," but it was kind of "awkward," (for lack of a better word.)

The service was beautiful and uplifting. I have to thank Hammer for introducing me to that place over a year ago. There is such a positive spiritual energy there. It was a Kabbalat Shabbat service which is a ritual to welcome Shabbat as the "bride" of Israel. The service uses Psalms 24, 95-99 and focuses on Psalm 29 and the song Lecha dodi. Overall, it's about the majesty of God, joy in the universe and peace both within and without. It's entirely sung (which for me is the perfect way to tap into my own "spiritual realm") and I always feel renewed after attending. I'm thinking of going more often. For NDN, it was also a special service, as his grandfather has just passed away. :(

After synagogue, we walked over to Riverside Drive, entering the park at the 79th street Boat Basin for a stroll down the river. Having lived near Riverside Park for years, I've made it a policy not to walk around there after dark, so I was a little wary, but NDN assured me that he would "protect me." (I hope so!) We walked and talked along the whole stretch, finally exiting the waterfront at 57th street, catching a cab back to our place where we watched Saved! on TV. (Funny, how some people just mentioned that film on Alecya's blog!). It was a nice night... and a non-drinking night at that!

But as nice as Friday night was, I was not looking forward to Saturday morning. I had an appointment for my mom to come into the city to meet with me and my therapist. She has been really worried about me ever since I "confessed" my alcoholism to her, and in order for her to feel like she can step back and not be breathing down my neck about it every two seconds, we needed to form some sort of plan. I won't go into the details of our meeting, as it's not something I care to share here, but it was hard for me. I cried... my mom cried... but in the end, it was more business-like than I ever thought possible and I was quite relieved. More than anything, I was grateful for my mother. She is just amazing and I love her so much.

After the appointment we parted ways. I headed downtown to meet Bezoukhoff for another spiritual adventure.

Now, this may sound a little strange, but I have always wanted to know how to paint religious icons. I have always been attracted to medieval art and to a Gothic aesthetic in general. At one point, I was convinced that I wanted to become a master at stained glass. I took a class in making stained glass panels and came away with one very beautiful amethyst iris on an amber background, but keeping up that hobby was a little difficult. I bought a glass cutter and a sander and all of the necessary equipment, but I had no outdoor space in which to work, living in New York City, and so any kind of project requiring me to work with lead was not a real possibility. As such, the hobby petered out a few months later.

In terms of the icon painting, a few years ago, I bought a book on the technique of writing icons, and realized that it was something that I could do at home. Even so, I would have to invest a considerable amount of money in the wooden boards, tempera paints, gesso, clay, gold and brushes, and I never quite got motivated enough to start. Then, a year or two ago, Bezoukhoff was over my house and noticed the icon instruction book. He revealed that he had a passion for icons as well (and was quite knowledgeable about the Russian greats, such as Andrei Rublev) and he said that he would love to learn how to make them. So I did a little investigation and found The Prosopon School of Iconology right here in New York. There they teach the ancient technique of Russian and Byzantine iconography!

We had been talking about going for quite some time, and on Saturday we finally got it together to get over there. The studio is located in the Russian Orthodox Cathedral of the Holy Virgin Protection. (Strangely enough, the church is just half a block from Waikiki Wally's. I passed it with Flash the other day!) The studio is just downstairs from the church through a separate gated entrance. I have to say-- I was nervous, as I didn't know what to expect.

We were welcomed by a woman named Tatiana, a master iconographist. The studio room was light, fairly spacious, and there were three or four other people silently working at tables lining two of the four walls. Against the back wall, a bearded man knelt, scraping at a large panel depicting one of the saints seated with a scroll and a fish. The air was filled with incense and chant and in the center of the room, there was a table with a kettle of tea and bowls of raisins.

Tatiana gave Bezoukhoff and me each our own wooden panels already covered in gesso. Before we could begin, she had to explain to us the spiritual role of icons in the Orthodox church, and told us that what we would be doing was not "artistic expression," but rather, "meditative spiritual discipline."

In order to write an icon, one must first accept that "God has image," that man is made in God's image (and therefore God's image is literally within us), and that we can focus that image into creation-- into a tangible symbol-- the icon. Icons are "windows" to God.

I don't know how, exactly, to paraphrase what she was saying, but at the time, I could only think of it in terms of Derrida's Grammatology. (I know... boorishly academic, but bear with me...)

It's not Derrida's theory, in particular, that was useful to me in thinking about all this, but rather, the language with which he constructs his theory. Derrida talks about symbols as "signifiers"-- something exterior to the concept, or "signified." In logocentric theory, speech consists of "signifiers" (spoken words represent ideas), and writing signifies speech (written words represent spoken words which then represent ideas). Speech as signifier is "exterior" to the concept it represents and writing as signifier is "exterior" to speech. Derrida argues against logocentric theory, instead claiming that speech might also function as "signifier" for the written word. (Spoken words represent written words). Therefore, the "exterior/interior" relationship of written language to speech can be reversed. And therefore, The notions of "exteriority" and "interiority" necessarily collapse.

I think that a similar thing is supposed to take place in terms of how religious icons function. Icons are "exterior" signifiers of "God." Human beings are also "exterior" signifiers of "God" (if, as Tatiana pointed out, we are made in the image of God). In my analogy, the icon functions like Derrida's "written word" and man (the iconographer) functions like Derrida's "speech." As a person creates an icon, the icon becomes an "exterior signifier" of God's image in man. But the icon is also a direct signifier of God's image, the original. (The same way the written word can signify the spoken word, or the signified concept itself.) The icon reflects God's image in man, and man reflects God's image in the icon. Exteriority and interiority collapse here as well. Hence, the icons are not merely "exterior" representations of God, but are suffused with "God's image," itself (which Tatiana assured us, he has).

God, in this case, becomes the "transcendental signified," (which Derrida would say rests on the assumption of "presence.") Derrida uses the term "differance" to describe the relation between presence and absence, inner meaning and outer representation. In the icon studio, what I thought she was saying, was that the icon acts as the "hinge" to bridge "differance." It is not merely a "representation" or an "exterior signifier."

I don't know if that made sense to anyone at all except for me, but there it is... Sorry for being so dense and circular. I'm not claiming to fully understand Derrida or to fully understand the theological foundations of Orthodox iconography. Nevertheless, as Tatiana was talking to us in the studio that afternoon, that's the only way I could process the "metaphysical" relationship between God and the creation of icons, as she described it. It's still somewhat of a tangled thought for me.

Anyway, moving on...

Our first task was to learn about the symbolic meanings behind the materials making up our wooden boards. The board's length symbolizes the Tree of Life and the width represents the Tree of Knowledge in Paradise. The grain of the wood runs vertically to receive the Holy Spirit from the heavens. The indentation of the board or "covcheg" symbolizes the Arc of the Covenant. It creates a separate space for the icon-- Paradise, as opposed to the "Earthly" outer border. The board is covered by a linen cloth which symbolizes the shroud of Jesus. Then at least 10 coats of gesso is applied to the board, its whiteness symbolizing the "rest" or "nothingness" that existed before Creation-- potential... light.

They start off all of their students with an image of the Archangel Michael. Tatiana explained why, but I don't remember. We carefully transferred a drawing onto the board using carbon paper. Then we had to make any touch ups necessary. This all took quite some time because it had to be perfect. If any of the details were off, it was "incorrect," and there is no room for self-expression or deviation.

When that was done, we had to go over the entire drawing yet again with a sharp tool to etch shallow lines into the gesso. Finally, we were ready for some paint brushes. The first step was to fill in the halo and edge the borders with a mixture of red clay, honey and some other ingredients using a "floating" technique. It was important that there be absolutely no brushstrokes so that the human hand would not be visible in the work.

Believe it or not, by that point four hours had gone by and the studio was closing for the day. Our icons had barely begun to take shape, but we had to leave them there for another afternoon.

It was then, once my focus and concentration had lifted, that I realized that I hadn't eaten all day. I had a headache, and I was suddenly in a really bad mood. Bezoukhoff seems to have eternal patience for me, and he calmed me down while I ate an apple and we took a cab back to my apartment.

It took me a really long time to feel better. There must have been quite a scowl on my face... quite a furrowed brow! (But not in a sexy Byronic way! More in a cranky PMS way...) I played some piano and Bezoukhoff showed me some strange post-Soviet commercials on the internet. Still, I wasn't revived until I had swallowed two Vivarin and put on some opera. I needed a little drama... something to wrench my gut in excess after the afternoon of quiet contemplation. So I put on a few of my favorite "high-drama" scenes-- the end of Thais, the Cathedral scene from Faust (during which I had to dance around and occasionally punch Bezoukhoff in the arm), the storm scene from Rigoletto and the very last scene in Rigoletto.

By that point it was 8:00 pm. BarMan had invited me to hear him play at Cheers from 7:00-9:00. He was doing an acoustic "pre-karaoke" show with some of his own music and a lot of covers. While I promised him a few weeks ago that I'd be there, I wasn't sure that I should go since I decided to really quit drinking. I asked Bezoukhoff if he would go with me and sit with me at a table away from the bar, and if he would be the one to go up to the bar to get sodas for us. He agreed and we decided to just stay for an hour and to leave right away when BarMan was finished.

There was a new woman bartending. I had heard they were hiring, as PCuz is overextended on the weekends. It felt strange that I won't get to know her. It's like a new chapter in "Cheers" and I won't be there. Oh well... BarMan played well, as usual. Soon, IrishBird came in and gave me a huge hug. ThursdayGirl was there too. I was jittery. Glancing up at the bar, I knew everyone sitting there. I knew 75% of the people in the place! Like ducks in a row-- PreppyGirl, Candy, JerBer, SurgeonGirl, Manwich, etc. etc.

As soon as BarMan played his last song, Bezoukhoff and I headed for the door. I hugged BarMan goodbye. He knew why I had to go. Besides, I had plans to catch up on TWO WEEKS of missed 24 episodes with Hammer. (How did I live without Jack for two whole weeks????)

Bezoukhoff accompanied me down to the West Village before we said our goodbyes. Then it was all me and Hammer... and Jack. I have such a fucking HUGE crush on him!!! It was amazingly perfect. The episodes were great and I had fun with Hammer. But I knew it was going to be hard for me to avoid going back into Cheers on my way home, so I took two Valium before I left Hammer's place.

As I walked into my building, I had to clench my fists, my nails pressed into palms, leaving cutting marks. But I did it. And I was okay. I think I got to bed at around 2:00 am.

Sunday, as you all know, was Mother's Day! For me, that meant heading out to Long Island early in the afternoon. My mom picked me up at the train and then we got BigSis. It was a fairly standard family holiday. Me, my parents, BigSis, LilSis, Bro-in-Law, JBC, my grandpa... and then my Aunt and Uncle came over with their two daughters-- Jail and Jol. Jol is 19 and just broke up with her boyfriend that she's been dating since she was 15. Their family has major enmeshment issues and my Aunt was freaking out about it. She gave her daughter Klonopin without a prescription. Nuts.

Anyway, the "exciting" news of the afternoon was that two ducks made a home in my parents' swimming pool, and on Sunday laid an egg. My stepfather wanted to incubate it. We barbecued, but it was too cold to eat outside. All in all, it was a very nice family day. My mom drove me back to the train at around 7:00 and I was soon home.

And you know the rest from there! I felt anxious, posted, and eventually went to Hammer's place.

Anyway, this post took a long time to write and I'm hungry now and sick of sitting in front of the computer...

later...

-h-