NEW YORK SNIP446 – My Eyes

FESCH.TV INFORMIERT:

Hi. I’m not looking for sympathy. I’ve got many unresolved issues. You likely have enough of those yourself. Learning to cope, fall ’n get up, is a very personal formula, a psychical strategy that some learn early in life, some later, some still later, some not at all. A highly valued skill, in fact the most vital skill of all skills, followed by dying with gratitude or peace. That is a hard row to hoe. Growing up is a rough road to travel when one or both parents are enablers in their child’s early development. Parents are usually young. Men and women are often thrust into being mother and father against their own needs. Nurturing a child is an absolute biologically iron-clad rule of nature.
Reproduce and replace yourself for the sake of the specie survival. Besides that out of control parent-to-be process there is also the treacherous lengthy process of separating the parent from his/her own parent(s). The Independence Process – skippering your own boat, hoisting sails, steering rudder and heading to a destination you determine. A help-mate, a partner can be very helpful, though can also complicate matters further.
So what’s my beef(s)? I thought I had a publicist/agent in Europe for my autobiographical art-works. He was knowledgable about media, art galleries, film festivals etc., London based with connections in Europe and Asia. He is Afro-British and the Jew that I am, I let my sympathy for Black man’s plight living & working in a White culture blind myself to subtle cues – he liked my work a little too much which is a rare positive feedback to get and certainly contributed to my wanting to trust him with my money for his services. I sent several of the long intelligent emails to daughter#2 to help me evaluate his vaunted credentials and a photograph he had sent following a video conference session we had. She seemed to think it a ‘cautious go’. My Craig’s List ad for European publicist/agent stated a $200 weekly fee plus percentage of sales.
For four separate weeks I sent those fees while he supposedly was chasing down leads, as he reported regularly to me, for exhibiting my works in several venues. When I finally inquired for details of a pending art exhibit of my iconic Jazz musician drawings he answered: “It’s working. Details to follow later in week. All’s good!” That was ten days ago. My concerned emails got no response. I’m near certain he is a scam. Old people like me are vulnerable to praise and needing to feel relevant in a tumultuously changing media world. Despite this loss of money, despite my sympathy for Black on White circumstances, I consider alerting Scotland Yard. Not for me as much as others he may scam.
I met a man. A meeting I initiated. He lives in this building. 83, Russian Jew. Emigration, formerly forbidden for centuries during the Romanoffs and Stalin’s USSR eras, was relaxed as a part of the Helsinki Accords of 1975 that included rights of citizens to emigrate. In 1985 Gorbachev’s glasnost policies further relaxed emigration restrictions. He emigrated in 1981 to New York. He was agent for the Russian dance expatriate community including Baryshnikov and was an administrator for the American Joffrey Ballet Company. He speaks with a heavy accent that I can barely understand despite Russian having been, according to my Ukrainian born mother, my first spoken language. What’s worse is that I am not confident that he understands the nuances of my American speaking. So I have to simplify my speak. The Main Issue: His interest is sex. My interest is romance.
So what are my other unresolved issues? My kitchen stove has a leaking gas hose, my toilet has a leaking bidet attachment, venetian blinds don’t pull up because of frayed strings, my studio-apartment has or had a spider infestation, nasty bites, and my penis is not functioning well even for self-pleasuring. Already for ten years. Impossible without marijuana and without viagra. One to relax. One to erect. So, hi, what are your beefs?