Memories of Plion Das
Memories of Plion Das / Mikel
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Now the current gently calls you
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The “you” inside, is birthing through
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“Oh yes”, we woke up from a dream
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Memories of Mikel aka Plion Das
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I met Mikel on my first day of college, in Art Class. I was 18, he was 23, and had been in a wheelchair since a motorcycle accident at 19. He was into lots of drugs and not much into staying in a body before the accident, where upon a guy came up to him while he was still conscious and said something about “heavy karma”. What’s karma? Thus began his journey of the spiritual quest, and being IN a body. What attracted me to him first was his medallion and as he proceeded to speak of such things, I could see that a pink effervescent aura surrounded him. He was my rainbow bridge, and quite a fascinating fellow. He quickly taught me simple sign language so we could have secret conversations during class, and flirt of course. Mikel was quite the artist and fully threw himself creatively into his projects. Be it fine detail pointillism (creating a portrait all from tiny dots), or huge oil canvases, (a theme for awhile was large, strong, in the style of Rubens, horses with winged cherubs tending them). The duplex space would revolve around these “events”. There the canvas stood in the tiny kitchen with daily additions, moved only to mundanely cook stuff. And with black & white photography, the bathroom was converted to a dark room, film hanging everywhere, trays of smelly solutions, and you’d have to knock to enter the red-lighted room to use it for “other functions”. I still remember standing out in the cold night while he captured some long exposure, low-lighted scene. You had to suffer for your art. His artistic expression turned to mechanical things, and he created a little monstrosity of a machine that when turned on, gears whirred, gadgets moved, and at the top a US flag waved haphazardly, while the song, “Your flag decal won’t get you into heaven anymore,” played. It was his statement on America. It looked like it was doing a lot; but it was not, just a bunch of flag waving. Won First Place and $50.00 too! We were both artists for As It Is magazine and eventually co-worked on pieces, including an oil painting of Monet’s “Lady in a Hat” using dark rich purple instead of black, for a ML art action. We both signed it. I wish I had that piece back. It was nice. Mikel was very smart about ML. When things were pink and fuzzy, he’d hang out. But when it got heavy, he’d hang back for a while, until pink and fuzzy returned. He said he had enough heavy stuff to deal with. Plion Das of the Pleiades Galaxy was a wonderful name for this space brother. We talked endlessly about outer space, (our CB radio names were Quasar and Pulsar) music, metaphysical things, dreams, and meditation until 2 & 3 in the am. Sometimes he’d dim the lights and put music on (JJ Cale, Commander Cody and the Lost Spacemen, Captain Beefheart, Frank Zappa, the Beatles, and of course the Moody Blues) and we’d lay face up on the shag carpet, stare at the ceiling, and just drift. No drugs, just a mutual Piscean to Piscean float. He was so “Timothy Leary” to me, even slept under a jerry rigged pyramid over the bed that raised & lowered with a rope, until we both noticed it gave us too much buzzy energy to sleep. And both being Pisces, the first order of the day was, “What did you dream?” 4 or 5 dreams each later, we’d start the day. There was nothing disabled about Mikel. He was fiercely independent, so much they had to make him a custom wheelchair as he broke the first 4! We traversed hiking trails, got into buildings we no way had access to (a lot of buildings weren’t accessible back then), even went to Disneyland, where upon as the attendant was explaining why we couldn’t ride the Matterhorn, he was already out of his chair, buckled up in the ride saying “Lets go! What’s the problem here?” He taught me how to be assertive and not accept so-called limitations. Oh, and we always had the best parking spots. Remember when you were late for college class and would frantically search for a parking spot? There ours would be waiting for us. :) And we’d dance too. He’d pop a wheelie and spin and rock and I’d flow and spin around him. Such fun. He even taught me how to do wheelies and sometimes I’d wheel around campus just to see what it was like from his perspective while he sat and drank coffee on the grass. When we didn’t have my Mom’s car, we’d hoof it everywhere, and getting groceries was an adventure. There was a steep hill to go up and down along the way; so on the way back, he’d balance the grocery bag on his lap, I’d balance on 2 foot pegs on the back, lower and lean forward for good aerodynamics and Hold On…. Man we would fly! And only crashed once. It hurt but we laughed so hard! Groceries everywhere! And speaking of independent, after we had been “together” for 2 weeks, he dumped me over the phone for an ex-girlfriend who blew into town…Ouch! But the flighty trollop left and we eventually got back together again…Not that I was jealous or anything. :) One of the gifts I offered Mikel was how to love his body just the way it was. Thus began my interest and love of bodywork. Part of our routine was foot and hand reflexology…and let me tell you! He had strong hands and wouldn’t let go when he found a sore spot. What a brat! We loved torturing each other. :) Yes, it was hard being in a wheelchair, more than any of us will know. Daily functions we take for granted were an ordeal, and he had pain too, physical and mental. And sometimes he’d send me away while he battled his own demons – until the clouds lifted, and the sun rose, and I could come back and play again. We’ve stayed “connected” through the years, and one day he wrote me a letter stating he dreamed I had pretty much given up on men. He was right. I was awful at picking good ones and was taking a break. I find it interesting that he didn’t leave the planet until I had met my husband, Mark. He made sure I was in good hands and a loving heart loved and protected me. Finally a letter came from AZ where the drier climate was easier on his body’s pain. He said he missed the vast ocean, but the night sky was full of stars and just as vast. He could expand into it. I believe that’s just what he’s done, and then some! No more yucky stuff on sidewalks (snails especially). No more limitations and pain. FREEDOM… total freedom inner & outer. I’m ecstatic for him! Fly baby, fly… Footnote: So, the other day, I got quiet& open, saying “Hi” to Mikel, when the words “Why are you not doing the things you love?” popped in my head. Good question…I have been on an art and music break for too long. And I haven’t danced in a while. So I’ll tend to these things. Then I started to form the question about ML, Donato, “What’s the other side like…” when again words popped in, “Love… just love.” Oh…….. |
Filed under: Eulogies