From the Broke Ass Reaches of Outer Space...

mi broke amigos,

i feel like an alien. i mean, i am the child of immigrants, but i feel like this strange creature now. there is a foreign object in my pocket and i am not sure where it came from. i ask someone near me if they knew what it was. they looked at me weird (hint). "you serious??" as he walked away pissed mumbling something about damn ass don't know what money...

Yes. I have some now. It's green, but I can't eat it or burn it. It has no smell. No taste...had to try it...

I went to the store to trade it in for food and drink, which tasted really good. But now, i have less of it. every day, i have less.

what do i do to get more? is more good? how much is enough?

forever Free...i hope,
B.A.S.A.

My Broke Ass Plant...Life 2.0

My fellow brokes,

I came back to school looking at my life now, after a year into this uncertain adventure. Most of my "stuff" has been held up at my frat brothers' place, piled up in a corner like junk ready for a garage sale. Also in the basement, same thing. Trash bags of clothes, and, my dead orchid. I knew I had to leave it to die. I mean, before I left for the summer, it was already "dying," dropping its beautiful flowers onto the ground. But I knew I couldn't rely on anyone at the house to take care of it. No offense- but they're dudes. And it's summertime. So, I did what any broke ass starving artist would do...

Now, I'm back. And I am trying to see if there's still life in the poor looking thing. If anyone knows anything about plants or orchids, please pass down the knowledge. I've watered it, put next to the window upstairs. It still looks the same. But the water is gone...a sign of life?

Life lessons from a dying plant.

Maybe sometimes, you just gotta kick back, slow down, die a little. Maybe when you're at your most quiet and dark and seemingly done for, maybe that's when it happens...

Transformation. Evolution. Change.

forever Free,
B.A.S.A.

"walk a mile in my broke ass shoes"

Or 170. Today, my fellow brokes, I was reminded of why earlier this summer I walked for two weeks along the Hudson River, in Upstate NY. As I left my current location and walked to campus, I felt back into a rhythm where my mind could keep pace with my feet. There was an ease and stillness that fell over me, and the worries of food, purpose, survival, artistic perfection seemed to drift away like a loose leaf on the catching wind. I just walked. My feet knew what to do; they carried me. I me passer-bys on the way. A smile or a head-nod was exchanged. All was well. Not much mattered. It was free and simple, just as nature should be.

Nature is the quintessential teacher: It invites your curiosity to explore its vast playground. And when you think you've discovered its meaning or mastered its terrain, nature drops a hail storm on you just as a friendly reminder of your divine ignorance. Yeah- happen to me on Day 9 of my hike. But it is also fair, providing shade for the sun-weary, and water for the parched soul. And always, a breath-taking, awe inspiring view. Here's some examples:o)

I'll leave you with one of my favorite quotes:

"Do not go where the path may lead; go instead where there is no path and leave a trail."
-Ralph Waldo Emerson

forever Free,
B.A.S.A

To be an Artist, or not to be an Artist

That is the question that rattles my brains as I decide everyday what do with my life. I am sitting in an empty office writing this while waiting for my paycheck to magically appear in my checking account.

Everyday is a beautiful fucked-up struggle between the fun of creating and imagining and the humdrum grunting of "making a living." Though I am thankful to be in school, finding myself with a steady paycheck (starting friday), and a place to "create," the Hamlet existential query dances in my noggin.

Because guess what, my fellow brokes, grad school don't guarantee nada but another fancy paper with squiggly lines and your name mounted on your parents' wall. You still gotta enlist in the work force. You still gotta pay the loans. You still gotta hustle for your art.

Just keeping it real. But who knows: maybe with the future collapse of our economic system, and the devaluing of the dollar,  the artist will be the one with something to offer that's cheap (free) and price-less...

Maybe then Hamlet will say: To sing, or not to sing, or dance, or write, or act, or (fill in your art).

That's the quest-ion.

forever Free,
B.A.S.A.

On the Broke Ass Road

hello my fellow brokes,

this is the Broke Ass Starving Artist reporting from the road, USA. Current location: Baltimore, MD. On my way back to school- hungry, of course. Just had a summer in NYC. I feel the city calling me back. But, School's payin' me. lol. go figure. This is a first for me: putting out my thoughts to you, my broke brothers and sisters.

DO you know when you find yourself on the edge of "What's next?" I just left New York City- the living breathing metrorganism, and headed back to the Capital, to school, to some kind of purgatory where it's kinda real life, but within the walls of Academia: the place of possible/maybes/almosts.

So, I'm signing off. Gonna fill my belly with H2O till I can get some cheap ass food to replace the ghostly gas.

forever Free,
B.A.S.A.