By Martin Rawlings-Fein

How do we recognize G-d? The sages say that the Jewish people posses two methods by which to identify and recognize G-d. The first is the Anochi of Exodus. "I am Adoni your G-d. I performed public miracles when I brought you out of Egypt and gave you the Torah." There is a second way to recognize G-d. The ability of the Jewish people to recognize G-d's Anochi "I am" when Hashem is concealed, and invokes a singular talent, the ability to identify and understand the ongoing redemption of haster asteer, "I will surely hide and conceal." The presence of G-d's hand in human events, even when it is not evident, perceived, or obvious is similar to the special talent of the person who has trained his or her senses to recognize their friends at night by listening, feeling and waiting for their unique signature sound, sent, sight  or touch.

On Sunday night I saw and recognized G-d in the work of one Sean Dorsey in "Uncovered: The Diary Project." While one may laugh at this assertion, respectfully, one was not there to witness the beauty and stature of the four men who danced the most amazingly beautiful work that I have ever seen.  Captivated I witnessed the covenant of these four men with history and memory and the reconnecting with the life that so many people take for granted. Playful and innocent even in its bawdy essence the entire production conveyed the G-dly message that we must remember things as they were, not as we wished them to be. I was humbled and reminded that G-d is everywhere and that he hand picks his messengers. Dorsey along with Brian Fisher, Juan de la Rosa, and Nol Simonse were like angels in flight and lit with the fire of heaven.

The dance project was produced by Fresh Meat, a queer arts company that produces such events as Tranny Fest. For the uninitiated this may seem far fetched but to me it is the culmination of all of Dorsey's past achievements and a realization of where his work is heading. Dorsey's research into the journals of Lou Sullivan, a transsexual gay man who lived in San Francisco as a trailblazing activist, organizer and writer who passed of AIDS in 1991, created the backdrop. However, the dance itself embodied the spirit of Lou and inspired the wonder of all. G-d was in the details for Dorsey and his cohort of messengers.  I personally know Dorsey and Simonse but had never seen them dance so beautifully. While the beauty was expected it stilled the beating of my heart and caused me to weep.  

I created video piece for the production and spent three showings in the lobby listening to the audience react (My friend Zion Johnson spent two showings helping to setup the equipment). I wanted to wait until Sunday to see it, so that my first time would be with my wife.  All the while audiences filed out of the studio and into my installation silently and in awe of the production that they had just seen. Apparently my short silent film was a good companion piece, I was told this several times by random people that didn't know me. Those that did know me thought I was there watching the video like them, and wondered why I was watching the faces of the viewers and the wheels turning beneath the calm. Until they saw the credits and proceeded to tell me how surprised the were. I don't talk that much about my video work, I probably should. The most amazing comment was from Dorsey himself, saying that the video had choked him up upon seeing it for the first time.  

I feel a sense of humility and gratitude to Dorsey and his dancers, to Fresh Meat, and to Lou Sullivan the man who opened a crack in the door for people like me, a bisexual transsexual, who would not have been able to transition without Lou's groundbreaking work. I have indeed seen the face of G-d in both the details and depth of the dance and the life of Lou Sullivan.