Tuesday, June 10, 2014
MOTHER THERESA FOR 21 HOURS CHANTS THE PSALMS
1. FOR 3 DAYS, WED -FRIDAY LINDA MARY MONTANO WILL CHANT THE PSALMS FROM A 14 FOOT LIFT AT ***********, WHILE DRESSED LIKE MOTHER TERESA
2.DURING THIS TIME, A VIDEO OF A NURSING MOTHER AND CHILD WILL BE PROJECTED ON A WALL THERE FOR THE ENTIRE 7 HOURS.
3. SOUND FOR THIS EVENT WILL BE THE CHANTING AND OTHER SOUNDS OF A DRONE AND BELLS
4. AT THE 6TH HOUR, 2 COLLABORATORS( THE 2 PEOPLE YOU SAID WOULD ASSIT ME PERCHANCE?) WILL COME AND LOWER THE LIFT INCREMENTALLY UNTIL THE 7TH HOUR WHEN IT IS GROUND LEVEL.THE COLLABORATORS WILL BE DRESSED EXACTLY LIKE THE DANCERS IN THE VIDEO "ADDICTED TO LOVE" BY , GRAHAM.
5. THEY WILL PICK UP 2 BOWLS OF WATER AND MOTHER TERESA WILL GO THROUGH THE "AUDIENCE" AND GIVE WATER OR HANDS ON BLESSINGS TO THOSE WHO ASK FOR IT. THE ASSISTANTS WILL SAY, WOULD YOU LIKE A BLESSING?
6. AFTER THE BLESSINGS, THERE WILL BE A TABLE WITH MONTANOS BIG GIRL DRESS UP CLOTHES ON IT. THE COLLABORATORS WILLHOLD UP A COLORED CLOTH AND MONTANO WILL CHANGE FROM NUN TO LINDA.
6. AFTER CHANGING, THE MUSIC WILL BE PLAYED FOR ADDICTED TO LOVE AND THE VIDEO WILL BE PROJECTED ON THE SAME WALL WHERE THE BABY AND MOTHERE WERE. IT WILL PLAY 2 TIMES.
7. PRAYER REQUESTS WILL BE GATHERED AND REMEMBERED BY MONTANO WHILE SHE CHANTS FOR 21 HOURS.
8. THE END.........................
WHO DESIRES THE BLUE RIBBON?
WHO DESIRES THE BLUE RIBBON ?
QUESTION TO THE HORSES AT HITS: SAUGERTIES NY JUNE 2014
LINDA MARY MONTANO
IF:
BRIDLE-----------OFF
SADDLE----------OFF
BLINDERS--------OFF
GRAZING:
FREELY MEADOWED
UNPEOPLED
UNCONTROLLED ...
WANT TO JUMP OVER
HIGH WHITE POLES NOW ???
QUESTION TO THE HORSES AT HITS: SAUGERTIES NY JUNE 2014
LINDA MARY MONTANO
IF:
BRIDLE-----------OFF
SADDLE----------OFF
BLINDERS--------OFF
GRAZING:
FREELY MEADOWED
UNPEOPLED
UNCONTROLLED ...
WANT TO JUMP OVER
HIGH WHITE POLES NOW ???
NEIGH
ANGELS AMONG US OR HOW TO SURVIVE A TRIP TO NYC
ANGELS AMONG US
"SAUGERTIES PERFORMANCE ARTIST RUN OVER IN MANHATTAN BY A SCHOOL BUS", it would have said?
She was in NYC to meet with her murdered ex-husband's brother; not a situation without memory or future lucid dream consequences for sure. To use the time well, she made it a multi-purpose day and the first half had been syncronistic, especially the sighting of six Mother Theresa Sisters at Padre Pio's church. She studied ever so closely their saris and the folds in the front and how they were draped over their shoulders and reminded herself to go to you tube immediately when she got home and re-learn how to drape a Bengali sari since she would be needing that expertise soon for her next Mother Theresa appearance. One of the nuns was definitely the boss, borrowing a cell phone to call somebody, maybe a friend with a car, a taxi??? The thought that they take vows of: poverty, chastity and obedience was obvious. It was so outrageous! How could they live and function without even a simple cell phone/internet? Didn't they want to run home and see who posted what they ate for lunch on their Facebook page?
But that was what Mother Teresa's Sister did..they only lived for prayer and for service, with nothing, not even a phone as a pleasure. They were 2-sari women, an unimaginable simplicity.
She puppy-dogged them out of the church after Mass, wanting to ask for a,"How do you drape your sari, Sister?" lesson but luckily something stopped her. At their car, she connected with one of the sweet, tiny, Indian nuns who, when she said, "I perform as Mother Theresa " (and then had the hutzpah to demo by stooping over and play-act the Saint herself) smiled and "approved" of her present, past and soon to be future performances of Mother Teresa. Inside bad-voice said,"Is she smiling approval? Shut up ,Linda. Everything's ok take this as a seal, a high-five, a signed contract." Then, to quiet another quickly appeared and legalistic attack of hubrised guilt she mentioned that she had gotten approval from "the sisters in the Bronx" who, " ...gave me permission to re-enact Mother Teresa". Another smile. She was flying high. But to continue the contact and her hard won endorphins, she asked, "Did you just come from India?" This deliberate distraction from her anxiety and racist-rudeness did not obliterate this sweet woman's loving kindness and she said, "No, I have been in Harlem for two years." Smile.... hers, not mine, then their exit into the car. Their car? No, wait not theirs, they only own 2 saris. She almost waved good-bye to the tail-lights, she was that high.
The other angel story is coming but before that there were visits to galleries and checking with Printed Matter to see when they would cut a check for things that had sold and on her way back to the Port Of Authority where she would meet her murdered ex-husband's brother next to the Jackie Gleason statue, it happened.
She had practiced the how-to-be-careful in NY scenario before she came because hours of Fox and CNN and NBC news reporters had media blitzed bloody images of cars careening into New Yorkers into her mental archive; images that led not to carefulness but to total upstate NY country girl trust that "I know how to cross a NYC street, dammit". She didn't, because the big white parked truck to her left, obscured the speeding, big, huge, yellow, school van and if she had taken that next step, her certain death would have been announced in the Kingston Freeman the next day:
But that was what Mother Teresa's Sister did..they only lived for prayer and for service, with nothing, not even a phone as a pleasure. They were 2-sari women, an unimaginable simplicity.
She puppy-dogged them out of the church after Mass, wanting to ask for a,"How do you drape your sari, Sister?" lesson but luckily something stopped her. At their car, she connected with one of the sweet, tiny, Indian nuns who, when she said, "I perform as Mother Theresa " (and then had the hutzpah to demo by stooping over and play-act the Saint herself) smiled and "approved" of her present, past and soon to be future performances of Mother Teresa. Inside bad-voice said,"Is she smiling approval? Shut up ,Linda. Everything's ok take this as a seal, a high-five, a signed contract." Then, to quiet another quickly appeared and legalistic attack of hubrised guilt she mentioned that she had gotten approval from "the sisters in the Bronx" who, " ...gave me permission to re-enact Mother Teresa". Another smile. She was flying high. But to continue the contact and her hard won endorphins, she asked, "Did you just come from India?" This deliberate distraction from her anxiety and racist-rudeness did not obliterate this sweet woman's loving kindness and she said, "No, I have been in Harlem for two years." Smile.... hers, not mine, then their exit into the car. Their car? No, wait not theirs, they only own 2 saris. She almost waved good-bye to the tail-lights, she was that high.
The other angel story is coming but before that there were visits to galleries and checking with Printed Matter to see when they would cut a check for things that had sold and on her way back to the Port Of Authority where she would meet her murdered ex-husband's brother next to the Jackie Gleason statue, it happened.
She had practiced the how-to-be-careful in NY scenario before she came because hours of Fox and CNN and NBC news reporters had media blitzed bloody images of cars careening into New Yorkers into her mental archive; images that led not to carefulness but to total upstate NY country girl trust that "I know how to cross a NYC street, dammit". She didn't, because the big white parked truck to her left, obscured the speeding, big, huge, yellow, school van and if she had taken that next step, her certain death would have been announced in the Kingston Freeman the next day:
"SAUGERTIES PERFORMANCE ARTIST RUN OVER IN MANHATTAN BY A SCHOOL BUS", it would have said?
Or, better yet, " PERFORMANCE ARTIST WAS NOT RUN OVER BY A SCHOOL BUS IN MANHATTAN. INSTEAD, SHE CROSSED THE STREET AND NOTICED THAT THE FIRST BUILDING SHE SAW WAS : THE CATHOLIC CHURCH OF THE ANGELS."
Linda Mary Montano, June 2014
Linda Mary Montano, June 2014
FREEMAN ARTICLE-BOB DYLAN, ON 14 FOOT LIFT
Linda Mary Montano to lip-sync Bob Dylan’s songs for 7 hours on a 14-foot lift in Woodstock
In honor of Bob Dylan’s 73rd birthday, the Woodstock Byrdcliffe Guild will host a performance by artist Linda Mary Montano on Saturday, May 24.
Montano will lip-sync to Dylan’s songs for seven hours, positioned on a 14-foot lift stationed outside of the entrance to Byrdcliffe’s Kleinert/James Center for the Arts, 34 Tinker St.
Since the 1960s, Montano’s career has addressed questions of time, the deeply personal and the life-affirming, with underlying currents in theology and feminism. She performs rites of emotional passage, mirroring life experiences, and experiments with making the interior exterior — or the private public.
Starting her career as a sculptor, Montano’s performance practice began in 1975 with a technique she refers to as “creative schizophrenia.” She “began morphing into 7 different imaginative people,” she said in a recent interview. “I sat in front of a video camera for a year, talking in different accents as these people. The 7 people were all survivors in their own given professions and fields.”
Montano’s performances, sometimes called “endurances,” can last anywhere from three hours to 14 years. She is known for her sensory deprivation endurances of the 1970s. From 1983-1998, she wore clothing all of the same color for each individual year, corresponding to the Hindu map of the Chakras. The Dylan endurance stems from her realization that members of her family bear a striking resemblance to the singer. She began performing in the persona of Dylan in order to “be like my brothers, having always wanted to be a man as a child — knowing that they were always getting the better cultural deal.”
The mechanical lift that will be part of Montano’s performance is a tool she began using the day of John Lennon’s death; in 2013 she completed two different seven-hour singing endurances on a lift at SITE Santa Fe. Her interest in and/or performances of Dylan, Paul McMahon and other historical figures, including Mother Theresa, are intricately linked to her investigations of the blurred boundaries and interconnections between art and life — between being, having been and wanting to be—or not being anyone at all.
Organized by Alan Baer, Montano’s performance will also give visitors the opportunity to see the exhibition of international and contemporary artists, “BASH,” on its last day in the Kleinert/James. An additional art-related event, “details TK,” will take place in the gallery on May 26, when it will remain open to the public.
In the event of rain on May 24, Montano’s performance will take place May
Montano will lip-sync to Dylan’s songs for seven hours, positioned on a 14-foot lift stationed outside of the entrance to Byrdcliffe’s Kleinert/James Center for the Arts, 34 Tinker St.
Since the 1960s, Montano’s career has addressed questions of time, the deeply personal and the life-affirming, with underlying currents in theology and feminism. She performs rites of emotional passage, mirroring life experiences, and experiments with making the interior exterior — or the private public.
Starting her career as a sculptor, Montano’s performance practice began in 1975 with a technique she refers to as “creative schizophrenia.” She “began morphing into 7 different imaginative people,” she said in a recent interview. “I sat in front of a video camera for a year, talking in different accents as these people. The 7 people were all survivors in their own given professions and fields.”
Montano’s performances, sometimes called “endurances,” can last anywhere from three hours to 14 years. She is known for her sensory deprivation endurances of the 1970s. From 1983-1998, she wore clothing all of the same color for each individual year, corresponding to the Hindu map of the Chakras. The Dylan endurance stems from her realization that members of her family bear a striking resemblance to the singer. She began performing in the persona of Dylan in order to “be like my brothers, having always wanted to be a man as a child — knowing that they were always getting the better cultural deal.”
The mechanical lift that will be part of Montano’s performance is a tool she began using the day of John Lennon’s death; in 2013 she completed two different seven-hour singing endurances on a lift at SITE Santa Fe. Her interest in and/or performances of Dylan, Paul McMahon and other historical figures, including Mother Theresa, are intricately linked to her investigations of the blurred boundaries and interconnections between art and life — between being, having been and wanting to be—or not being anyone at all.
Organized by Alan Baer, Montano’s performance will also give visitors the opportunity to see the exhibition of international and contemporary artists, “BASH,” on its last day in the Kleinert/James. An additional art-related event, “details TK,” will take place in the gallery on May 26, when it will remain open to the public.
In the event of rain on May 24, Montano’s performance will take place May
ANNIE MENTIONS SALE OF ART/LIFE INSTITUTE
|
ALTON DULANEY MENTIONS ME ON FACEBOOK AND I FEEL ECSTATIC
| Alton DuLaney mentioned you in a comment. |
| Alton wrote: "Professor Reverend Sister Linda Mary Montano, art-mother/mentor, friend, funny lady, leading by living, learning and laughing. All of NYC was a happier and more creative place yesterday from having you performing in the park, just as you once shone light on the cultural darkness of central Texas. Savior and saint, you cleared the path for art=life, leaving the rest up to each disciple, student, seeker, wanderer, lost art soul. That hug yesterday was worth all my student loans, and every creative act lived, performed, and executed, is at least partially an homage to the nun, the teacher, the life coach, the counselor, the man, the myth, the mentor, the holy art/lifer, that has and always will be the wise, the fearless, the sage, the marvelous, the irreverent, the inspiration, the inappropriate, the breath in breath out, force that is you." |
MOTHER TERESA AND GANDHI
MOTHER TERESA AND GANDHI
My name is MOTHER TERESA. Once upon a time I had a dream that Mahatma Ghandhi and I came back to Mother Earth to give you some advice. We sat next to each other for a long, long time in a beautiful garden and looked at the BIG BOOK OF OUR LIFE and read our stories to each other about the last 40-50 years of our lives. Let me start with my later life, Dear Ghandaji the life that I call the dark night of my soul.
As you know I was a nun teaching in a girls school in India but whenever I left the school grounds I witnessed the poorest of the poor on the streets and this made a great impression on me. Here is how my second life's work happened. I was on a train going to a retreat in 1942 when I received an inner, guided message to leave my religious nuns who I loved very much, to leave teaching these young women in Calcutta, to leave my treasured vocation to begin a new way, that is, to embrace the reality of the poor and to serve them. It took many years for me to be excused from my other spiritual obligations but eventually, I became the foundress of a new order of nuns, The Missionaries of Charity. The first years I felt wonderful, filled with light but when I was 50 years old a great sadness and sense of loneliness overtook me deep in my heart and confused me. I asked why? Why am I so tortured? Is it because I am sinful and weak. My priest spiritual directors helped me see that the darkness purified me of my imperfections and that it was an essential part of living out my mission of sharing the poor's spiritual poverty because now I was poor like those I cared for. I began embracing spiritual suffering and actually experienced being spiritually unwanted, unloved and uncared for by God. This sounds terrible and it was until I understood how to transform the suffering into joy.
Nobody knew this, only my spiritual directors because I did not live like a pitiful person but adopted a radical ministry of hope, a radical ministry of joy, a radical ministry of pure faith, a radical ministry of glowing luminosity. I had a big, big inner secret. I looked totally happy and smiled with everyone but I was in inner agony. But only now could I understand the dying who felt unloved, only now could I understand the poor who were lonely, only now could I understand the unloved who were confused.
I bargained with God and said, if you hide my secret inner pain from others, I will actually BE LOVE, yes BE LOVE to all. If you hide my pain, I will BE COMPASSION, not only act compassionately but BE COMPASSION to all. If you hide my secret, I will SMILE AT ALL.
It took me time to make peace with this bargain but eventually the darkness itself became joy and my radiant smile hid my abyss of pain. I was like a nobody even to God and that was OK. I felt the tortures of my inner hell and that was OK.
My dearest Ghandhi, I hope this story has helped you understand my last years , my secret years. and I leave you with a prayer I composed. It says
THE FRUIT OF SILENCE IS PRAYER
THE FRUIT OF PRAYER IS FAITH
THE FRUIT OF FAITH IS LOVE
THE FRUIT OF LOVE IS SERVICE
THE FRUIT OF SERVICE IS PEACE.
I bless you my brother . I bless all of you and I give you all a gift, MY SMILE. Here TAKE IT ! And I sing this beautiful song for you, dear Ghandhi.(SONG)
Then I dreamed that Ghandhi spoke. He said, " I want to come back to Mother Earth to tell those living in the 21st century to practice a new non violence which we call ahimsa. As you know I defeated the oppressors with non violence and now you who are living right here right NOW must practice ahimsa and telling the truth which we call satyagahara. Do not fear seeing the truth, communicating the truth and living the truth. Ghandhi then said in my dream, I want to tell the truth to all of you. First, Mother Earth, the truth about food:
YOUR GMO FOOD
YOUR ANTIBIOTICED FOOD
YOUR CHEMICALLY SPRAYED FOOD
YORU FAUX FOOD
YOUR TRIPLE FRIED FOOD
YOUR ASPERTAINED FOOD
YOUR UNWASHED GOOD
YUR NUTRITION FREE FOOD
YOUR DISEASE CAUSING FOOD
YOUR INSECT DROPPING FOOD
YOUR FALSELY LABELED FOOD
YOUR EMPTY CALORIED FOOD
YOUR PESTICIEDED FOOD
YOUR POISONED BABY FOOD
YOUR MOLDY FOOD
YOUR BOTTOM FEEDER FOOD
YOUR FARMED FOOD
YOUR TRANSFAT FOOD
YOUR SUGURED FOOD
YOUR SALTED FOOD
YOUR FOOD THAT IS NOT FOOD.
OH Ghandhi, I said in my dream, this is terrible, horrible and a nightmare! Let me sing a song for this world so it does not feel so bad about it's food.(SONG
Then, in my same dream, Ghandhi said this is not all, it is not only food that I am warning the 21st century about, they must stop the following as well:
As you know I was a nun teaching in a girls school in India but whenever I left the school grounds I witnessed the poorest of the poor on the streets and this made a great impression on me. Here is how my second life's work happened. I was on a train going to a retreat in 1942 when I received an inner, guided message to leave my religious nuns who I loved very much, to leave teaching these young women in Calcutta, to leave my treasured vocation to begin a new way, that is, to embrace the reality of the poor and to serve them. It took many years for me to be excused from my other spiritual obligations but eventually, I became the foundress of a new order of nuns, The Missionaries of Charity. The first years I felt wonderful, filled with light but when I was 50 years old a great sadness and sense of loneliness overtook me deep in my heart and confused me. I asked why? Why am I so tortured? Is it because I am sinful and weak. My priest spiritual directors helped me see that the darkness purified me of my imperfections and that it was an essential part of living out my mission of sharing the poor's spiritual poverty because now I was poor like those I cared for. I began embracing spiritual suffering and actually experienced being spiritually unwanted, unloved and uncared for by God. This sounds terrible and it was until I understood how to transform the suffering into joy.
Nobody knew this, only my spiritual directors because I did not live like a pitiful person but adopted a radical ministry of hope, a radical ministry of joy, a radical ministry of pure faith, a radical ministry of glowing luminosity. I had a big, big inner secret. I looked totally happy and smiled with everyone but I was in inner agony. But only now could I understand the dying who felt unloved, only now could I understand the poor who were lonely, only now could I understand the unloved who were confused.
I bargained with God and said, if you hide my secret inner pain from others, I will actually BE LOVE, yes BE LOVE to all. If you hide my pain, I will BE COMPASSION, not only act compassionately but BE COMPASSION to all. If you hide my secret, I will SMILE AT ALL.
It took me time to make peace with this bargain but eventually the darkness itself became joy and my radiant smile hid my abyss of pain. I was like a nobody even to God and that was OK. I felt the tortures of my inner hell and that was OK.
My dearest Ghandhi, I hope this story has helped you understand my last years , my secret years. and I leave you with a prayer I composed. It says
THE FRUIT OF SILENCE IS PRAYER
THE FRUIT OF PRAYER IS FAITH
THE FRUIT OF FAITH IS LOVE
THE FRUIT OF LOVE IS SERVICE
THE FRUIT OF SERVICE IS PEACE.
I bless you my brother . I bless all of you and I give you all a gift, MY SMILE. Here TAKE IT ! And I sing this beautiful song for you, dear Ghandhi.(SONG)
Then I dreamed that Ghandhi spoke. He said, " I want to come back to Mother Earth to tell those living in the 21st century to practice a new non violence which we call ahimsa. As you know I defeated the oppressors with non violence and now you who are living right here right NOW must practice ahimsa and telling the truth which we call satyagahara. Do not fear seeing the truth, communicating the truth and living the truth. Ghandhi then said in my dream, I want to tell the truth to all of you. First, Mother Earth, the truth about food:
YOUR GMO FOOD
YOUR ANTIBIOTICED FOOD
YOUR CHEMICALLY SPRAYED FOOD
YORU FAUX FOOD
YOUR TRIPLE FRIED FOOD
YOUR ASPERTAINED FOOD
YOUR UNWASHED GOOD
YUR NUTRITION FREE FOOD
YOUR DISEASE CAUSING FOOD
YOUR INSECT DROPPING FOOD
YOUR FALSELY LABELED FOOD
YOUR EMPTY CALORIED FOOD
YOUR PESTICIEDED FOOD
YOUR POISONED BABY FOOD
YOUR MOLDY FOOD
YOUR BOTTOM FEEDER FOOD
YOUR FARMED FOOD
YOUR TRANSFAT FOOD
YOUR SUGURED FOOD
YOUR SALTED FOOD
YOUR FOOD THAT IS NOT FOOD.
OH Ghandhi, I said in my dream, this is terrible, horrible and a nightmare! Let me sing a song for this world so it does not feel so bad about it's food.(SONG
Then, in my same dream, Ghandhi said this is not all, it is not only food that I am warning the 21st century about, they must stop the following as well:
DUMBED DOWN TV-------STOP IT
FEAR BASED JOURNALISM-------STOP IT
INSIPID STAR GOSSIPING-------STOP IT
SENSATIONALIZED SELFING------STOP IT
NARCISSISTIC YOU TUBE MAKING------STOP IT
ADDICTIVE TEXTING------STOP IT
IDEA PIRATING------STOP IT
COMPETETIVE UPSTAGING------STOP IT
ARROGANT OVERPOSSESSING------STOP IT
UNNECESSARY CONSUMING------STOP IT
VIOLENT VIDEO GAMING------STOP IT
SELF WORSHIPPING------STOP IT
GREEDY OVERPRODUCING-----STOP IT
OH Gandhi, stop stop, I am so sad listening to this eventhough I hear you say these things in my dream. For those living now, it is all real and we must warn all the people. We must sing to them and show them how to heal MOTHER EARTH.....This is a song that I will sing , maybe it will help. (SONG)
Mother earth hears us as we sing into her heart and we are now
HEALING FRACKED MOTHER EARTH
HEALING NUCLEAR WASTED MOTHER EARTH
HEALING IRRADIATED MOTHER EARTH
HEALING SINKHOLED MOTHER EARTH
HELAING OZONED MOTHER EARTH
HEALING TORNADOED MOTHER EARTH
HEALING TSUNAMIED MOTHER EARTH
HEALING WARMED MOTHER EARTH
Thank you Gandhi for your message. Lets go back to sleep and dream some more . I will continue to send smiles to them even in my sleep and you can send non-violence. Then they will do their best, I know.
GOOD BYE EVERYONE, GOOD BYE , NAMASTE, NAMASTE, GOOD BYE NAMASTE, GOOD BYE
CHRONOGRAM: BOB DYLAN BY BRIAN MAHONEY
Parting Shot: Linda Mary Montano
By Brian K. Mahoney
It takes a lot to laugh, it may take seven hours of lip-synching Bob Dylan for Linda Montano to cry. The performance artist, known for her endurance pieces, will be impersonating the former Robert Zimmerman atop a 14-foot lift in front of the Kleinert/James Art Center in Woodstock on May 24 from noon to 7 pm in honor of Dylan's 73rd birthday.
Since the 1960s, Montano's career has addressed questions of time, identity, theology, feminism, and making the private public. Montano's performance practice began in 1975 with a technique she refers to as "creative schizophrenia." The artist is best known for her sensory deprivation work: From 1983-1998, Montano wore clothing all of the same color for each individual year, corresponding to the Hindu map of the chakras.
The Dylan endurance outside the Kleinert/James stems from Montano's realization that her family members look like Bob Dylan. She adopted the Dylan persona in order to "be like my brothers, having always wanted to be a man as a child—knowing that they were always getting the better cultural deal," she says. Montano's interest in Dylan, and other historical figures whom she has portrayed, like Mother Theresa, are intricately linked to her investigations of the blurred boundaries and interconnections between art and life: between being, having been, and wanting to be—or not being, anyone at all. Woodstockguild
Since the 1960s, Montano's career has addressed questions of time, identity, theology, feminism, and making the private public. Montano's performance practice began in 1975 with a technique she refers to as "creative schizophrenia." The artist is best known for her sensory deprivation work: From 1983-1998, Montano wore clothing all of the same color for each individual year, corresponding to the Hindu map of the chakras.
The Dylan endurance outside the Kleinert/James stems from Montano's realization that her family members look like Bob Dylan. She adopted the Dylan persona in order to "be like my brothers, having always wanted to be a man as a child—knowing that they were always getting the better cultural deal," she says. Montano's interest in Dylan, and other historical figures whom she has portrayed, like Mother Theresa, are intricately linked to her investigations of the blurred boundaries and interconnections between art and life: between being, having been, and wanting to be—or not being, anyone at all. Woodstockguild
PEE GIRL IN THE TREES
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PEE GIRL IN THE TREES
Once upon a time there was a very small little girl. She was born premature in a forest hospital and had to have a moss box made for her to live in and be fed in and she never needed diapers because the moss absorbed her pee.
Her mother had a garden and her father made furniture from the big trees surrounding her home which was a small forest cave at the bottom of a hill in this fecund forest of big, big, big trees. Pee-girl was so open-eyed and small and backwards that she never even imagined that when it rained those big, big trees lost roots and ground and wanted to come tumbling down right on her head.
Pee girl lived in an atmosphere of danger like a blindfolded duck walking on a super highway at 6pm. Playing and smiling and singing and making believe was her ticket for happiness. So when the big tree person came down the hill from their castle one day and said, "There is a big, big tree that might fall on your cave, can we come to your cave grounds with our horses and pull It down"? "Sure, she said, come on, bring your horses and pull it down. Good" . They never came.
One stormy, windy, cool, rainy, volcanic, tornado, hurricane-like night, that same big, big bigger tree fell right on the roof of the cave and a guest was there sleeping and snoring and dreaming and she sat up in her bed to see a big, big tree coming through the cave roof. HELP! HELP! HELP! She screamed, running into the corner, calling the vultures who brought raccoons, snakes, owls and other bacteria to the scared renter's side. "Don't worry renter-girl, you didn't get hit by that big, big tree, you are fine. Call the little pee girl's father, he can fix everything." So the renter called the father who called the little pee girl who was visiting a lake in another village and the pee girl said, "Oh father, I am so, so, so, sad. Please do what you can do to fix what pee girl cant fix, OK? Big father, I don't know how to do anything. Send me some moss, ok? That's the only thing that makes me really happy."
Pee girl's father did a beautiful job of fixing the mess even though he was old and bent and in very, very poor health himself and all was silent at the top of the hill where the big castle-tree people lived. Pee girl wanted to hide in her far away lake trailer and not face the music or in this case, the static, but she rode back home on her pink pony and called up to the hill, "HELP, HELP big tree people. I'm peeing-scared and we need help! Old father is pale and shaking with worry and I need more and more moss to soak up my pee because I'm scared and don't know how to fix all of the tree dance problems: the scared renter's shakiness, the old father's confusion, the camel people who want to fix the roof, the 1000 thousand other big branch questions, the roof-fixers, the money people, the people who measure and walk around the moss yard and talk about big tree scars. HELP, HELP, this is the tree you said would fall and it did. It almost squashed the scared renter right on her head!!! HELP big tree people!!"
Nothing. All was nothing in the up-hill castle.
Vultures visited and shook pee-girl into order and all went back to not normal and the big, big tree people stayed silent and never ever, ever , ever showed their face-voice. Pee-girl buried stones of sadness and regret and much to her horror, anger in room 3 of her heart . Time passed and she paid many people fresh vegetable barters to help her look at the big, big tree heart-anger-stones that were eating at her day and night. Nothing really helped. Except time.
Yes, time helped her see how SHE let big, big trees fall on friends over the years. Maybe she was a tree faller as well, she thought. That helped. She said, "I'm not so good with my own big, big listing and falling life-trees and I have let my falling and listing trees hurt people too, right? I even caused poison ivy, I'm sure. I thought the castle people were wrong but so am I.""
That thinking helped soothe grey memories while she soaked in mountain hot springs but then one day when she was old and bent and listing herself and moss pee dripped down arthritic legs, she walked outside the cave, looked up the big, big tree people's castle-hill and saw ANOTHER big, big tree leaning and showing roots. "Vultures, vultures, roots are showing, roots are showing, roots are showing. I'm so scared it will happen again. Big father isn't here to help me and pink pony might get hit if she is eating breakfast under this big, big tree when it falls. Help, I need moss and more moss to soak up my fear!!!"
Vultures, chickens, snakes and ponies met with pee-girl inside the cave. "Guess what, the big, big tree dance is back. What are you going to do this time?" Pee girl lay on her moss matt and asked her Chicken mind what to do and she did it and to make a very long story short, now the most beautiful, aromatic, gentle, forest-like air floats in and out of the empty cave and if you and your pony are riding past , look real closely, on the third sixth and seventh of each month, a vulture or chicken can often be seen circling the moss.
Linda Mary Montano May 1, 2014
Once upon a time there was a very small little girl. She was born premature in a forest hospital and had to have a moss box made for her to live in and be fed in and she never needed diapers because the moss absorbed her pee.
Her mother had a garden and her father made furniture from the big trees surrounding her home which was a small forest cave at the bottom of a hill in this fecund forest of big, big, big trees. Pee-girl was so open-eyed and small and backwards that she never even imagined that when it rained those big, big trees lost roots and ground and wanted to come tumbling down right on her head.
Pee girl lived in an atmosphere of danger like a blindfolded duck walking on a super highway at 6pm. Playing and smiling and singing and making believe was her ticket for happiness. So when the big tree person came down the hill from their castle one day and said, "There is a big, big tree that might fall on your cave, can we come to your cave grounds with our horses and pull It down"? "Sure, she said, come on, bring your horses and pull it down. Good" . They never came.
One stormy, windy, cool, rainy, volcanic, tornado, hurricane-like night, that same big, big bigger tree fell right on the roof of the cave and a guest was there sleeping and snoring and dreaming and she sat up in her bed to see a big, big tree coming through the cave roof. HELP! HELP! HELP! She screamed, running into the corner, calling the vultures who brought raccoons, snakes, owls and other bacteria to the scared renter's side. "Don't worry renter-girl, you didn't get hit by that big, big tree, you are fine. Call the little pee girl's father, he can fix everything." So the renter called the father who called the little pee girl who was visiting a lake in another village and the pee girl said, "Oh father, I am so, so, so, sad. Please do what you can do to fix what pee girl cant fix, OK? Big father, I don't know how to do anything. Send me some moss, ok? That's the only thing that makes me really happy."
Pee girl's father did a beautiful job of fixing the mess even though he was old and bent and in very, very poor health himself and all was silent at the top of the hill where the big castle-tree people lived. Pee girl wanted to hide in her far away lake trailer and not face the music or in this case, the static, but she rode back home on her pink pony and called up to the hill, "HELP, HELP big tree people. I'm peeing-scared and we need help! Old father is pale and shaking with worry and I need more and more moss to soak up my pee because I'm scared and don't know how to fix all of the tree dance problems: the scared renter's shakiness, the old father's confusion, the camel people who want to fix the roof, the 1000 thousand other big branch questions, the roof-fixers, the money people, the people who measure and walk around the moss yard and talk about big tree scars. HELP, HELP, this is the tree you said would fall and it did. It almost squashed the scared renter right on her head!!! HELP big tree people!!"
Nothing. All was nothing in the up-hill castle.
Vultures visited and shook pee-girl into order and all went back to not normal and the big, big tree people stayed silent and never ever, ever , ever showed their face-voice. Pee-girl buried stones of sadness and regret and much to her horror, anger in room 3 of her heart . Time passed and she paid many people fresh vegetable barters to help her look at the big, big tree heart-anger-stones that were eating at her day and night. Nothing really helped. Except time.
Yes, time helped her see how SHE let big, big trees fall on friends over the years. Maybe she was a tree faller as well, she thought. That helped. She said, "I'm not so good with my own big, big listing and falling life-trees and I have let my falling and listing trees hurt people too, right? I even caused poison ivy, I'm sure. I thought the castle people were wrong but so am I.""
That thinking helped soothe grey memories while she soaked in mountain hot springs but then one day when she was old and bent and listing herself and moss pee dripped down arthritic legs, she walked outside the cave, looked up the big, big tree people's castle-hill and saw ANOTHER big, big tree leaning and showing roots. "Vultures, vultures, roots are showing, roots are showing, roots are showing. I'm so scared it will happen again. Big father isn't here to help me and pink pony might get hit if she is eating breakfast under this big, big tree when it falls. Help, I need moss and more moss to soak up my fear!!!"
Vultures, chickens, snakes and ponies met with pee-girl inside the cave. "Guess what, the big, big tree dance is back. What are you going to do this time?" Pee girl lay on her moss matt and asked her Chicken mind what to do and she did it and to make a very long story short, now the most beautiful, aromatic, gentle, forest-like air floats in and out of the empty cave and if you and your pony are riding past , look real closely, on the third sixth and seventh of each month, a vulture or chicken can often be seen circling the moss.
Linda Mary Montano May 1, 2014
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