Be Water, My Friend- My Journey With Bruce Lee
Buckle up because this is a tale.
In 2020, in case you didn’t notice, we had a global pandemic. Its still happening. For the first few weeks of lock-down my friend and I did live-streamed drawing sessions every Monday. We would link-up via instagram and people could tune in and see what we were drawing as we had some drinks, joked, and just tried to do what we could with our time. I had committed to each of my drawings having an overtly yellow theme. Around week five I was really feeling the lock down and all I could come up with were 5 yellow stripes, scratches, tears. I painted those and thought for a couple of days how to “finish” this piece. I was laying in bed when it struck me that it should be a Bruce Lee portrait. I don’t know where that came from but perhaps having something to do with his famous yellow track suit and iconic facial and torso scratches. I completed the portrait but had no idea what was to follow.
About a month later my studio mate and co-founder of the now defunct Atlantis Artist Collective had secured all of us in the collective a bank of windows to do murals upon. During lockdown businesses had taken to boarding their windows for safety and artists being artists had taken to painting the blank boards. The painting of these soon became a city-sponsored endeavor and we had gotten the opportunity through that. The 6 of us submitted our different designs, one per window. Designs approved, we bought paint, and almost to the moment when I put pencil to board to begin there was a phone call. The project was halted. There had been a misunderstanding. The business owner thought one of these designs was to be spread across the entirety of the windows- and they especially did not like my design. I had put a lot of thought into what I wanted to put on my board. I didn’t want to be overly optimistic because everything was truly awful. So, undoubtedly informed by the portrait I had just completed, I settled on a simple splash of water and a quote by Bruce Lee over the top of it: “Be Water, My Friend.” It couldn’t have been more appropriate in every way.
Given the message I was trying to spread I figured I couldn’t be too upset about the cancellation of the project and given what happened next I began to see greater things in the works. Two weeks later, previously unbeknownst to me, Bruce Lee’s daughter, Shannon, was coming out with a new book- its title: Be Water, My Friend. I was stunned at the timing. I preordered it immediately. I devoured it. Its a self- help book, its a biography, its stories, its about Bruce and Shannon and resilience and philosophy- its fantastic. You should read it.
A couple of interesting things happened while I was reading the book. First, I had been training to run an ultra marathon before lock down, as my friends (ultra marathon runners) and I were going to Japan for 3 weeks and I wasn’t about to miss out on the countryside they were going to experience on their outrageous runs. I had lightly carried that over into lock down for something to do. On a lighter day of training, set to do 9 miles, I walked out my door, ran half a mile and knew 9 miles weren’t going to happen that day. As I turned to walk home I was listening to Be Water on audiobook and Shannon started talking about Bruce’s gravesite. “That’s right,” I thought, “he’s buried here.” Just to see I checked how far away he rested- 4.5 miles. A 9 miles round trip. I ran 9 miles that day.
Second, on a particularly challenging day of witnessing artistic peers seemingly winning out in things over me, I came upon a part of Be Water in which Shannon relates how portraying Kato in the doomed Green Hornet tv show was a launching pad for her father. It was in the show’s failure that success was found. I took heart in this and painted a simple portrait of Bruce’s eyes under the Kato mask and posted it to Instagram. I went for a run and to my complete and utter astonishment, when I got back I found that the official Bruce Lee instagram had not only liked my work but REPOSTED IT TO THEIR PAGE! It was validation and reassurance of the highest order. Seemingly from Bruce Lee himself. At this point I began to see something bigger than me was at play.
The day I finished the book I said aloud “I’m going to be friends with Shannon Lee.” I had no intentions around this, I was not aiming to receive or benefit from this in any way- the words just came out of my mouth. It would be a couple of months before the next remarkable thing, but that thing came again in the form of “failure.”
On a random Tuesday a very good friend of mine called. He had just done an interview with a high profile athlete and over the course of this interview learned the athlete’s hero was, you guessed it, Bruce Lee. We concocted a plan that I make the best Bruce art work I possibly could and we’d gift it to this athlete. We’d relate my admiration for Bruce and his daughter and if the athlete happened to share it to his social media or with his friends, well, that might mean me being commissioned by professional athletes. That very day I set to making the fuckingest Bruce Lee portrait I possibly could.
I worked diligently and with a focus I reserve for only the most important of pieces. We set to figuring out how to respectfully get this work to the athlete and in the course of that found it to be a conflict of interest and could not be done. My friend felt terrible that he had gotten my hopes up. But there I was with a true showcase of my skills and who possibly better to it be of than Bruce Lee. I wasn’t remotely upset.
I think it was a month later that I saw The Chinese Historical Society of America and The We Are Bruce Lee company were hosting an online art competition. Boy-o-boy did I have an entry. What you have to understand about this scenario is that I have applied to more things than I could possibly remember. More shows, more opportunities, more competitions, more pitches, more contests, more grants than any human should, especially considering that I never win any of them. Never. So I went about my life, because this is business as usual. A couple weeks later I was tagged in a post as a top 5 finalist. My jaw hit the floor. They saw my work. They liked it. As we do, I examined the others and mine was wildly different- I could see the merit in all of them. To be chosen for top 5 was an honor unto itself. Mere days later I awoke to another notification. I had won. I had won. I HAD WON!
The prize, when just the honor would have sufficed, was tickets to the grand reopening of the Historical Society and the opening of a retrospective show of Bruce’s movies, writings, and life. Not about to let this opportunity slip through my fingers I asked the museum staff if they needed any help with the opening- I was prepared to carry chairs, stand on one foot, anything. I planned to go down to San Francisco for the exhibition anyway and if I could somehow give back, I was prepared to do whatever that might require. The Historical Society enthusiastically accepted my offer.
Like many of us, lockdown had taken a physical and mental toll on me. I was able to seek therapy for the first time in my life and that helped a lot. Shannon helped a lot. But Bruce came out of nowhere to remind/educate/re-educate me about being me. About being uniquely myself, yourself. About being a person with “the lights turned all the way on.” My mental health in a much better state, I knew I couldn’t stand in this celebration of my new mentor, a hero, in anything but the best shape of my life. After all the physical feeds the mental and the mental feeds the physical. They must flow together. I set a ferocious training program and a “diet” I had always dreamed of following in a perfect scenario or iteration of myself. All told by the time I got on the plane to San Fran I could run a mile in under 7 minutes, bike 2 miles in 5:15, lateral pull-down 240 lbs, and bench press 90 pound dumbbells- one in each hand. I was ready to see Bruce.
I arrived early in the city, wanting to help as much as possible and make the most of my journey. With time to spare I first sought out an art supply store as I like to buy a unique or high quality art product to remember my travels. I found a pen store. Just pens. As the clerk showed me different prices and varieties of scribing tools as if they were gemstones, one popped out at me from the shelf. Aqua (water) blue. She pulled it down and I wrote with it. Its weight. Its ink distribution. A dream. When she informed me it was water based ink I was sold.
I finally made my way to the museum and had been told to get there far earlier than they were ready for me. As the two people there at the time figured out something for me to do they invited me to check out the exhibition. There I was. Alone. With Bruce. How was this possible? How had this happened? I took in that moment and soon was put to work.
It had always been in the back of my mind that Shannon may be at this event. And that I may meet her, but when she walked in the door, only 8 of us in the room, my brain just said “That is Shannon Lee. Be cool.” She was soon whisked away for a tour and to get ready for the event. I looked at the event coordinator and said “I did not know Shannon was going to be here.” “Of course!” She replied. As I left to check into my hostel and clean up for the event that evening I saw Shannon was set to do a book signing. My hand grasped the $100 pen in my pocket I had just bought hours prior and had yet to use. Was the daughter of Bruce Lee about to be the first person to use this pen?! I hurried to the hostel, cleaned up, and hurried back, all the while trying to figure out how best to relate my thanks and admiration while not fanboying the crap out of her.
The event was set to start and I inquired about the book signing, only to find she had already done it. “Dang, I would have liked to been here for that,” I related. The event coordinator scoffed, “oh, I’ll hook you up, don’t worry.” My heart leapt. I was going to meet her, and a personal introduction no less. I was going to become friends with Shannon Lee.
The VIP event progressed and I spent most of it stopping very important people from entering the gallery with their food and drinks. It finally came time for the speakers and as Shannon took to the stage I was transfixed. As she spoke the warmth and intelligence and admiration she had shown in her book beamed in real life. Five feet from me. As she continued and talked about how lucky she was to live a life full of such love from so many people a parable flashed through my mind. “When the student is ready, the teacher shall appear.” If I hadn’t experienced all the rejection and loss and pain I would have never come to be in this place. I would never have persisted and found such comfort in Bruce’s ideas and Shannon’s words. That parable you may have heard before but there is a second part, that I don’t remember having previously heard or read, but it flashed through my mind next: “when the student is truly ready, the teacher will disappear.” It was in that moment, Shannon speaking, realizing what had happened, what I had done in less than two years, that I felt what I can only describe as a truly peaceful, full circle, zen moment. But in tandem with a readiness for the next chapter, highs, lows, and middles included. A new version of Kyle was born.
In the end I didn’t get the chance to meet Shannon. But this zen moment happened before that became apparent and what did I really want out of that meeting anyway- if its going to happen I want it to be a respectful and natural moment. I was later told by the museum director they had shown Shannon my portrait of her father and also my portrait of her and that she was truly touched. What higher order of art exists than to make others feel good?
If that moment was in fact my teachers disappearing then I thank them with my whole heart. Bruce and Shannon came out of nowhere to rescue me. To help propel me to a new level of consciousness, wisdom, and understanding- for “there are no limits, there are only plateaus. But we must not stay there, we must go beyond them.”