One Rainy Afternoon with my Daughter

One Rainy Afternoon with my Daughter

We hid our bodies below the big trees. Little rains dripping through the leaves. And my five year old daughter complaining about the fogs that veiled the sea-shore. The smell of pot and the smokes surrounds us more than the fogs. Our eyes were starring at the shoreline.

The hill is high. The thrill was low. Its a mild sense of wetness below a tree. And as my daughter asked me about what lies beyond the sea and fogs, I was stunned by the shadows of past visualizing itself and were unsure what it was. I was definitely stoned. But I’m sure what its was for me. Its the haunting past that formed the shadows.

And so I answer to my daughter:

There will be rainbow when the fog dissapeared. Colorful. Shines and radiates the fenceless horizon, as now time like the past would be left behind, where the here and the now prevails and our dreams are those of in front of us. The rainbow. The fenceless horizon. The bright blue myserious seas. That’s what lies beyond the fogs, and as the fogs starting to disperse and you might as well open your bright eyes and dry your wet-self to see which one of those dreamscapes you’ll want to reach or the unknowns that hid in between. Where time and spaces respond to no laws of exact equation, but only to every willfull passion of those who are daring enough to sail beyond the impossible and squander their great soul. And my daughter said in reply:

“I don’t want any of those, its too far. You’re stoned papa. I just want to see the shore when the rain stopped. Please stopped being poetic to every one of my question. I can’t understand any of that. I’m still 5 years old, remember? Let’s get out from the trees and go to the sea-shore, I want to play with the kids there. And I see no rainbow, so your making things up when u stoned? ”

I didn’t answer as her little hand drag my wet jacket to the wet streets and while I see the shore cleared from fogs, I can’t see any kids playing nearby and she screams joyfully stomping her feet to the wet ground near the shore. Running. Singing. While the windy air starting to erect large waves, and she stood still, frozed at the appearance of large waves. The sky was weaving storm again and I wandered myself about the abyss beneath this cruel beautiful seas and suddenly I was surprised by a small hand trying to drag me from behind, and a lazy tone of a 5 year old was heard:

“come on home papa, you smoked too much, your eyes looks weird, were you imagining weird things again? Let’s go home and try to get some sleep, you don’t sleep for two days don’t you. I’m hungry, will u cook me that blueberry pancakes before u go to sleep? Okay papa, don’t be too long its already afternoon.”

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Surat Terbuka bagi “Kawan-Kawan”

 

Sudah berapa lama. Sudah berapa banyak waktu yang terbuang. Rapat-rapat. Diskusi-diskusi teori. Gosip yang tak kunjung henti. Aku ingatkan, ini bukanlah pledoi, karena aku tidak butuh pembelaan. Tapi aku pikir memang ini saatnya berkomunikasi dengan kalian hanya melalui tulisan.

“Kenapa nggak ngomong langsung?”

 Lebih organik? Iya, aku tahu itu. Dan aku pun sepakat dengan tatap muka secara langsung. Tapi jarak memang terkadang menjadi pembatas di realitas kita yang penuh dengan angka-angka dan nominal hanya untuk bertatap muka. Tapi bukan hanya itu. Kalian sendiri yang berbicara, di depanku dan di belakangku. Kalian bilang aku orang yang dominatif. Terlalu cepat emosi. Dan seringkali berujung pada kontak fisik. Memang aku akui itu. Aku paham. Aku bukan anak kecil yang tumbuhdewasa di lingkungan kelas menengah dan sekolah-sekolah bagus. Aku tumbuh dewasa di peperangan antargeng. Bukan cerita indah. Sama sekali tidak. Untuk mengetahui orang yang kamu cintai berada di dalam penjara atau terbunuh. Tapi karena itulah aku menemukan anarkisme, karena itulah aku menumbuhkan rasa cinta dan benci pada masyarakat yang pasif terhadap setiap perang sosial yang dilancarkan Negara dan kapitalisme pada mereka setiap detik. Kalian juga berbicara soal perilaku dan kebiasaanku: berkelahi. Gonta-ganti perempuan. Mabuk. Obat.

 

Maaf kalau memang semua perilaku destruktifku itu sangat berpengaruh pada kalian sampai-sampai kalian butuh waktu yang sangat lama untuk mengingatkanku. Dan kali ini aku sadar kalau apa yang kalian katakan sebagai anarkisme yang ideal, itu samasekali bukan untukku. Bagi kalian anarkis yang ideal itu yang senantiasa berbicara pelan dan tidak emosional. Maaf, tapi memang darah suku pendahuluku berdarah panas. Genetis? Aku tidak tahu. Tapi begitulah aku. Bagi kalian anarkis yang ideal itu orang-orang yang memberi contoh pada masyarakat bahwa mereka harus menjadi semacam panutan. Aku bukanlah tipe orang yang seperti itu, karena ketika aku telah meninggalkan kristianisme sejak SMA, semua nilai-nilai moral itu hanyalah telur busuk yang saking busuknya senantiasa kalian telan. Tak pernah sedikitpun aku menyangkal ketidakpercayaanku pada agama. Sejak dari awal. Pada orang tua dan orang-orang terdekatku.

 

Pada tahap ini, aku yakinkan pada kalian dan kalian pasti senang: saya bukan anarkis dan saya tidak percaya lagi dengan namanya anarkisme yang kalian gembargemborkan itu.

 

Tapi coba kita sedikit “flashback”. Di masa-masa itu. di masa-masa aku bersama kalian. Aku pernah mempercayainya. Bukan sebagai agama baru lagi. Tapi suatu ideal. Suatu wujudan impian di tengah masyarakat pasif-feodal yang bahkan berbicara langsung dan berkonflik saja takut. Aku tidak ingin mengungkit-ngungkit apa yang pernah aku lakukan pada proyek-proyek kalian. Atau uang-uang yang seharusnya aku prioritaskan ke anak perempuanku hanya untuk mencetak jurnal dan yang lainnya.

Dan di waktu kemarin ketika aku akhirnya bisa menghirup udara bebas di penjara masyarakat yang lebih luas. Yang aku dengar Cuma gossip tanpahenti. Soal pengeluaranku di dalam penjara bahkan sampai ke taraf kalau aku menggelapkan uang seorang kawan. Aku tidak akan mengungkit-ungkit ini. karena seseorang harus berani jujur ke dirinya sendiri dan membantah semua itu—itu tugas kamu B. Kalian, para anarkis, bisa bertanya pada sahabat-sahabat dekatku. Mereka hanya akan menertawai kalian mendengar gossip-gosip yang berkaitan dengan uang.

Sahabat-sahabatku, istriku, anakku—bukan anarkis—yang samasekali tidak takut untuk menjenguk aku ketika aku pertama kali ditahan. Dari merekalah aku mendapatkah harapan. Dari mereka juga aku masih percaya akan cintakasih dan persahabatan horizontal yang nyata. Merekalah suku-ku yang sebenarnya. Dan aku bisa berkata seperti ini: jiwa mereka lebih anarkis ketimbang para anarkis yang selama ini aku kenal. Karena mereka tahu apa arti dari persahabatan, komunitas, relasi yang horizontal dan membuat perhitungan dengan otoritas. Sementara kalian senantiasa ingin berada di zona kenyamanan kalian.

 

Untuk K. Aku tidak tahu yang terjadi padamu. Tapi tampaknya relasi kita sudah buruk sekali. Aku sedih mendengar semua itu K. Dari omongan “kawan-kawan anarkis” yang berkata kalau kamu melakukannya hanya karena kamu ingin memperlihatkannya ke aku. Kamu ingin mengatakan padaku lewat aksi. Kalau kata kawan-kawan anarkis itu “keren-kerenan”. Begitu aku mendengar itu, Aku sama sekali nggak percaya. Karena aku tahu kamu. Aku tahu malam itu ketika kita samasama ingin melihat malam yang menyala dan rasa dendam yang tak dapat lagi disimpan terhadap otoritas. Aku hanya ingin mengatakan sesuatu ke kamu: Terimakasih untuk semuanya K, untuk semua hal yang kita lewati bersama, malam-malam yang penuh dengan kecerobohan. Dan ingat ini K, dimanapun kamu, bagaimanapun perasaanmu sudah berubah padaku: Aku masih Eat yang dulu kamu kenal. Ya, kawanku, Aku masih merasakanmu di dalam hatiku meski sekarang kamu membenciku. Aku harap, suatu hari, aku akan menemukanmu di gang-gang sempit dan lansekap yang tidak tercantum di peta. Dan kalau pun tidak, Aku ingin kamu ingat ini. Tak ada sedikitpun rasa benciku ke kamu, sebaliknya, bila ibu bumi ingin menelanku. Kamu adalah bagian dari setiap ingatan yang akan kubawa ke dalam organisme hidup yang  akan merubah wujudku.

 

 

Bagi kawan-kawan “anarkis”: Mungkin, bukan aku yang dominatif. Tapi mentalitas kerdil kalian dan residu ideologi kiri kalian yang menilaiku seakan-akan semua itu obyektif. Dominatif? Aku rasa bukan. Aku rasa kalian hanya terlalu pengecut untuk berbicara langsung di depanku. Takut kalau aku emosi dan akan berujung pada kontak fisik. Tapi satu hal yang aku dan kalian tahu, tak pernah sedikitpun aku menahan kalian untuk berbicara ataupun berargumen denganku. Komunitas anarkis kalian yang samasekali tidak ingin aku terlibat lagi di dalamnya: sekumpulan orang ber-ideologi sama tapi selalu takut sama resiko dan hasil dari resiko ketika hal yang tidak diinginkan terjadi. Enam bulan baru beberapa dari kalian bertemu denganku ketika aku ditahan. Dibarengi gossip-gosip dan penawaran kalian soal mewakilkan korespondensi—maaf saya lebih percaya orang yang saya cintai ketimbang kalian para anarkis yang penuh dengan prasangka. Soal bagaimana kalian ingin memberiku donasi tapi harus dengan catatan yang jelas. Kalian menuduhku menyabotase kongres petani. Kalian menuduhku menyalahi konsensus yang telah  disepakati. Aku tidak ingin membela diri apalagi meminta maaf. Dari itu semua aku sudah bisa menyimpulkan kepicikan kalian. Apalagi ketika kalian menerima argumen K perihal alasan dia melakukan aksi itu. Argumen yang dikatakan setelah aksi dilakukan dan membuat aku dan b tertangkap—dan kalian masih menyatakan diri kalian anarkis? Tak pernah sejumput nama kalian aku sebut ketika aku di BAP selama tiga bulan. Karena memang kalian tidak terlibat sama sekali. Tapi memang sudah seharusnya, ketika kita menarik garis dan mengetahui siapa sebenarnya yang ada di sampingmu ketika resiko terburuk terjadi. Dan aku telah diyakinkan berkali-kali. Bukan kalian hai kawan kawan anarkis yang berada di sampingku saat itu. Kalian tiarap tanpa ada alasan jelas dan tidak mengakuinya.

Kawan, dari sejak ditahan sampai bebas, aku merindukan kalian. Sangat. Aku menunggu surat dari kalian. Tapi memang aku bukan “anarkis” yang cukup buat kalian. Untuk itu, semoga zona keamanan kalian selalu terjaga.

Angin barat yang akan berhembus pasti akan memporakporandakan apapun yang dilewatinya. singkat kata, bersiaplah ketika badai menghembuskan pertandanya.

 

 

 

Magic Mushroom Trip Through the Lenses: The Hallucinogenic Experiment of Paksi Sandang Prabowo

 
Honestly, I never really interested in present art of photography. Nowadays, with all the technologies which make it easier for every people to make themselves a good “Photographer” by just using automatic camera and processed with so awfully lots of software—Photoshop, of course!–you can create an amazing work of art. Yes of course, it’s not fair—or not?—for those self-persistent photographers of the past decades, who sweat their asses by learning manually of just almost anything which present generation doesn’t need to take that “long and winding road” detour.  Okay, let’s cut it out, because one thing for sure I don’t think I’m credible enough to make a critique of the subject and it’s not what I’m trying to tell you here. It’s about a good friend of mine, Paksi Sandang Prabowo, a student of photography who almost graduate and just won first place of Pashadelic Global Photo Contest with his landscape photography. Its not about Paksi’s achievement what I’m going to tell you here. But, perhaps—if can be said like that—is his craziness in visual experiment.

Can you imagine hallucinogenic mushroom could be combined with photographic theme? Well, that’s what Paksi’s have done. So, without further ado, let the work speak for itself.  
 
 
“Mushroom is a fungus, not a plant. This means that it grows from a spore, usually in the dirt or on decaying plant material, such as a log. While some varieties contain vitamins and nutrients, mushrooms are mainly used to give an earthy flavor and meaty texture to everything from pizza to risotto.
Some mushrooms, however, are famous for more than their taste. Known as magic mushrooms, shrooms, mushies, psychedelic mushrooms, psychotropic mushrooms or psilocybin, these mushrooms cause differences in mood, perception and behavior that are commonly known as “tripping.”

These types of mushrooms belong to the genus Psilocybe. Mushrooms of other genera can also cause hallucinations, but many purists insist that Psilocybe mushrooms are the “true” magic mushrooms. Psilocybe mushrooms cause hallucinations because they contain the psychotropic tryptamines psilocybin and psilocin (some species also contain other, weaker psychotropic compounds like baeocystin or norbaeocystin). A single mushroom contains anywhere from 0.2 to 0.4 percent psilocybin.” (http://science.howstuffworks.com)
 
The Trip Chronologies
 
This is the first time I used magic mushroom that was produced from cow’s dirt to create a work of performative video and photos in which I decided “Apocalypse” as the theme of this work. Why Apocalypse? Because for me, apocalypse doesn’t necessarily means the destruction of all things. It could be our fear that comes in front of us and when you consume magic mushroom, its hallucinogenic effect can cause different sensation from euphoria, hallucination, paranoia, and other strange things—yes, maybe it’s a tsunami in front of you! I tried to visualized on self-portrait and videos when I consumed magic mushroom.
 In here I’ll explain in detail of what I was feeling after consuming that hallucinogenic mushroom.    
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19 oktober 2012 – Parangtritis Beach
12.45: I eat the mushroom.
13.07: My breath is getting heavy.
13.33: My stomach wants to vomit.
13.40: I sat on the beach and looking at the sea, I feel like the waves were coming after me.
13.50: I saw horse chart on the sea.
14.15: I’m starting to get paranoid and too afraid to open my eyes because I was aware that the Sun-God was around me and staring at me constantly with his fiery eyes.
14.17: I’m getting more paranoid because I felt him—the Sun-God—were getting closer.
14.19: When I tried to get some photoshoot, I want the camera on continual mode so it’ll be faster, because the Sun-God is approaching.
14.22: The Sun-Gods were getting many and I feel really-really scared.
14.24 – 14.45:  I won’t opened my eyes even for a second and the paranoia were getting worst. Even when I closed my eyes I could still see the Sun-Gods, so I covered my eyes with both of hands all the time.
14.47: I wanted to go from Parangtritis because my paranoia is getting worst.
14:49: When I strolled to the parking site I stopped suddenly when I saw countless sun-gods were approaching at me.
14.56:  It’s impossible not to see. Even when I shut my eyes I still can saw those Sun-gods with their wicked face.
 

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24 October 2012 – Ambarukmo Plaza
 
On the second session, I tried to do it in Ambarukmo Plaza, Yogyakarta. Personally, nothing is really interesting, perhaps it’s due to the quality of mushroom. Unlike the experienced before in Parangtritis, in Ambarukmo I remembered almost everything, at least 70 percent. The 30 percent of the memory remains “a mystery”. A friend said that I punched a walking Teletubbies mascot in a game centre and luckily the mascot only a bit pissed off. In this place I experienced different effects of the mushroom. Instead of feeling paranoid all the time, I felt euphoric and happy. I also didn’t feel any nausea or stomach ache. I don’t know, is it because I’m in a mall? But for certain, I experienced a contrast effect unlike when I was trippin’ on Parangtritis. But for sure my body was really tired.
 
 
16.00: I ate the mushroom in my rented house
 16.05: I go to plaza ambarukmo.
16.35: Arrived at plaza ambarukmo.
16.50: Short of breath, anxious, and confused
17.00: Feeling uncomfortable in the mall I decided to go to the Foodcourt to find a place to sleep?
17.12: Feeling very sleepy and tired.
17.25:  A friend of mine ordered a magic mushroom ice cream. I tasted it and then felt the effect of the mushroom again, even more stronger. But the real fact is, my friend never ordered magic mushroom ice cream, he ordered strawberry ice cream.  
17.26: I felt my whole body is collapsing
17.27: I lit a cigarette and I saw the fire from the lighter is getting bigger and bigger, I was astonished.
17.30: I’m terribly and happily confused.
17.36: I tasted that strawberry ice cream again and still convinced that it was a magic mushroom ice cream.
17.40: I saw fat women passing by like flying balloons.
17.45: I wanted to fly but undecided about the destination.
18.15: Locked on emergency exit
18.50: Before went home, I go to a small warung (a café) and ordered a sunny side-up fried egg. When I stared at the “sun” of the fried egg, it transformed into my girlfriend’s face. She was smiling and we talked. I haven’t touch the egg and then the place owner was laughing at me, he said that I’m crazy.
19.05: I didn’t eat anything after that, I felt funny and then went home.
 
I think it’s fair enough to quote Baudelaire with the experiment that Paksi Sandang Prabowo’s have done:

“You must always be high. Everything depends on it.”
 

http://vimeo.com/53165142  <–the video

Farewell Riyano

OBITUARI UNTUK RIYANO

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Ino, kawanku, di kala udara masih memberikanmu kehidupan, kita berdua percaya, bahwa tadinya kita akan melihat dengan
mata kita sendiri, suatu dunia baru.
Dunia dimana manusia bukan lagi serigala bagi manusia yang lain,
dunia dimana kita semua adalah kekasih dan saudara.

Tapi, malam ini bintang yang redup
telah merenggutmu dari dunia yang kelam ini.
Ino, ternyata dunia baru yang kita “impikan” itu masih terlalu jauh.
Meskipun begitu, hari-hari
baik yang dulu pernah kita lalui,
takkan hilang dari ingatan ini. Hari dan malam
di mana impian dan gairah kita yang lebih panas dari supernova meledak
dalam tawa, api, dan amarah. Dan bila hari-hari di mana “dunia baru”
itu masih terlalu jauh untuk “dinanti”.
Aku tidak peduli. Sama sekali tidak.
Karena aku tahu benar kau telah menjalani hidupmu
sepenuhnya seperti yang kau inginkan. Hidup kitalah
yang terbaik dan kita adalah manusia terbahagia di hari-hari itu.

Selamat Jalan kawanku, Kau telah berlayar menuju suatu tempat
di mana kekuasaan tak lagi berlaku. Dan engkau takkan pernah mati
bagiku. Karena setiap jasadmu yang membusuk di dalam tanah adalah organisme hidup
yang melanjutkan siklus kehidupan. Engkau adalah udara yang aku hirup.
Dan, Ino, aku yakin kamu senang membaca kata-kata terakhir ini:

Satu alasan lagi untuk menyambut api prometheus!

au revoir mon ami!

– eat

Could The End Come Sooner

Where are they? The people. The living souls. Here is a barren landscape of deserted soul. Noises heard but no mouth and lips could be seen. I’m aware of the sound of footsteps passing through the front street. No chattering voices could be heard. No melody. The inclinations seem louder. I couldn’t see them but I feel the energy. Frozen lifeless energy. My eyes traveling beyond these walls, wandering to the sky and lurks at the world in motion. I catch a glance of people gathers at the funeral. They’re singing, dancing, stomping the soil of their decomposing ancestors. They’re celebrating the one’s soul journey to the moon. And there they are, the moloch’s, preparing nuclear bomb to destroy the sun-god. It’s been centuries and no peace pact could be negotiate. The war is on. Should I care who’ll prevail?

Where are the people? Dreams have left me for some weeks. Last dream I had was a feast. It’s about death or something like it. I was standing on an empty hill. The air was wet and dark as the trees were in orange. The horror of the air strangles my neck as I see an old man walking towards me. He shut his eyes and you could see blue stain around his grayish face. He said none of a word as he walked through my bodies and disappear.

Where are all the people? Am I still dreaming? What’s my last dream. Ah yes that awful old man. But then the dark vortex succumbed my entireness. It’s a different dream again. I’m standing on a sky crapper. The sea level is rising reaching almost at the peak of the building. I saw bodies floating. The earth is trembling. When I looked up I can’t help to not smile. Finally, the thousand meteors have arrived to destroy the earth. The end comes sooner than I thought.

I woke up sweaty. Everybody sleeps. I looked at each of their faces but I recognized no one. I went to the window but it’s locked. Am I still dreaming? But the bars are real and the sky is still dark. There’s only voices of air as the footsteps slowly walking toward the door and disappear again. Now I understand. The people are here all the time. I’m the one whose not.

 

Ah..could the end come sooner?

There’s a Light

“The aim of life is to live and to live means to be aware, joyously, drunkenly, serenely, divinely aware.”(Henry Miller)