A much admired local, Cal Clements first made Athens his home over four decades ago. During that time, he grew from a tiny tot to a local creative force who had his hand in art, arts education, performance, music and theatre. He also shared his zeal for physical and spiritual well-being by founding Rubber Soul, a successful, donation-based yoga center in the repurposed Leathers Building. And although he has clearly put his stamp on Athens, he admits the town also shaped who he is and plans to return when he can after getting settled in his new home in New York City. On an afternoon not long ago, he drove up Pulaski Street in his old motorhome for the last time and headed out of town. Flagpole caught up with him shortly thereafter and had him field some questions about his past and present adventures.

Flagpole: When did you first come to Athens?

Cal Clements: The year was about 1968. I was a small tyke. My father worked as a professor in the Lamar Dodd School of Art. My mom made a lot of art as well. We had some neighbors whom, on the first day of summer when the thermometer hit 100 degrees, would put a cooler out on the sidewalk and fill it with popsicles. All the kids could eat them, and eat as many as they liked.

FP: Athens is a town like no other. What were your first impressions of it?

CC: My memories of Athens are all filled with thunderstorms. In the old days, downtown Athens was a much more formal place. I remember department stores with real human beings operating the elevator, a bakery, all sorts of businesses, and not a single bar. Oh, except (now that I think about it) there was a bar called Friends, which was in the Georgian Hotel.

FP: What was the encouraging part of this time in your life, and how did Athens play a major role in that?

CC: One day my mom and I were picking up my sister from a theater class and the director said, "We need more men; why don't you join the theater?" And so, starting at about age 11 until about age 17, I was in tons of plays, most of them with the Athens Creative Theater. The director, whose name was Tom Kidd, had expectations that were absolutely out-of-proportion to what would normally be considered appropriate for a children's theater in a small town. Later, based on the influence of Tom Kidd's theater, I saw that one could recreate a culture, including its music, fashion, sexual norms, class values and economy. This, it seems to me, is the great promise of the Athens: to create a new way of living.

FP: As your impressions evolved, how did you find yourself changing and growing?

CC: I didn't really begin to grow until I started at art school at UGA. For the first time, I had teachers who were asking questions about me and my views—Jim Herbert, Andy Nasisse, Scott Belville, Ole Olsen, Horace Farlowe and my own father, with whom I lunched everyday. It was all very serious: "Why is there red there in the corner when you have orange here in the center?" "If you had stopped five hours ago, do you think it would have been better?" "What if you did that same piece 100 more times?" I became very keen to master the formal aspects of making art. That training has always stuck with me and characterized my way of approaching the world.

FP: Athens has a bohemian charm and fosters freedom and bravery, self-growth, kindness towards others, a democratic spirit. What sort of people have you met and come to know and become influenced by in Athens?

CC: I love bohemians and have long envied and generally revered the charming characters that populate Athens. I remember a poet who used to go around with five paper grocery bags filled with poems. He'd take his bags to the movie theater and set them in the seats next to him. I was too shy (or proud) to ever say hello... but Athens makes it possible to notice people. My good friend Jeremy Ayers is someone I regard as having a wonderful, quiet soul. He is a master of clothing and thoughtfulness. He got me living in the treehouse in his backyard. Years ago there was a gentle spirit named Huldah Simpson who lived here. It was Huldah's idea to offer yoga on a donation basis, which is perhaps the most remarkable aspect of Rubber Soul. What strikes me though, in thinking about your question, is how important principles are in what makes people stand out as influential or admirable. I really agree with the way you spoke of generosity, bravery and kindness. Now instead of making art, I brainstorm in my journal about how I can make one of these principles shine out from my own life. Personalities are really just principles embodied—with a whole lot of accidents thrown in to make the story interesting.

FP: In the early '90s you wore beautiful fitted suits and carried a case that held a musical instrument. Weren’t you involved in the music scene?

CC: I got going with Opal Foxx due to being friends with Allen Page who was a great drummer with a giant callus between his thumb and index finger (from so much drumming). I played some ancient and (truth be told) sour sounding saxophones. I worked six hours daily for three years to be a good musician, but I never caught up with those guys. I think they kept me around out of... well... I don't know really. They had somehow moved beyond caring too much about whether the music sounded good or not. I mean, they were very good musicians, masters of their instruments, but they had an idea that it was more interesting to fail than to succeed. They saw the wonder of things falling apart, of bands coming to ruin. For example, it was frequently remarked that hangovers brought more joy than the drunk itself. I think they liked me because I would point these things out to them. They would call me the band's philosopher.

FP: What was teaching at the university like?

CC: My goal as an instructor in Comparative Literature was to surprise students with something unexpected each class. There was a time when I got quite good at this. I would figure out some way to cause them to live out an aspect of the book, in real time, in the classroom. At the same time I wanted to create a club in which people would get to know each other and live a stress-free life for one semester. Last spring I taught my all-time dream class: Subcultural Cinema. We looked at midnight movies [such as] El Topo, Night of the Living Dead, Pink Flamingos, Rocky Horror Picture Show, Eraserhead... then we discussed how subcultures can form around "trash" elements in a society.

FP: What was the name of your theater troupe here and what can you say about the performances?

CC: For about two years I ran a troupe called The Forest Theater of Pure Form. We put on highly avant-garde plays. My concept really was less to do a series of plays and more to do one play endlessly, like a cult theater. I wanted the same audience to come back again and again preferably dressed up especially for the event, with full memorization of the lines. In Dainty Shapes and Hairy Apes, the audience came as forest creatures (in fur hats and with musical instruments). In Hoods on a Bloody Rampage, the audience wore hoodies and black sunglasses. In The Importance of Being Nest Ear, they all dressed as men, with mustaches and suits, and butlers emerged from the giant stage/table and served tea and pancakes.

FP: Tell me about Rubber Soul.

CC: I started Rubber Soul close to four years ago. It's been a fascinating experiment in anti-capitalism. Everything is by donation. Even the instructors volunteer. The whole thing is about generosity and trust. The secret version of the story is that none of it could have happened if it weren't for the fact that I decided to live in a vintage travel trailer. My advice to people who want to live with 100 percent freedom is to drastically downsize. Too much of the time we make giant compromises all because we think we need a couch with a sofa and television, a refrigerator and a bathroom... But in reality, all you need is a yoga mat and your health. You can join the YMCA and turn Daily Groceries into your kitchen, Ciné into your living room. Your quality of life will go WAY up and you'll be able to contribute to others in spirited ways.

FP: Why yoga?

CC: I read somewhere that if you put 10,000 hours into a specific pursuit you'll get to a level that will seem like "genius." For example, to be really wonderful at art or music or a specific sport, all you need to do is put down the time in a highly targeted way—about five hours a day of pure focus for six years. So, I thought to myself, "What would it be like to spend 10,000 hours purely on being myself, on feeling what life is like on the inside of my body?" Yoga is basically this project. I'm becoming a genius at polishing my internal state. I stretch. I breathe. I move slowly through various time-honored poses. Instead of being yanked around by the external world, I find myself at home anywhere, in all kinds of situations.

FP: What are you creating now?

CC: My art form at the moment is "lifestyle performance.” I have a few life goals that I wish to perform on a "street" stage: 1. To be a one-person circus in which I ride my unicycle as an everyday means of transport, 2. To live to be extremely old while in amazing health, 3. To eat 80-100 percent raw foods (with an emphasis on local, organic vegetables), 4. To have tons of spare time and therefore be free to play around with children or anyone else who isn't busy at the moment, 5. To shed all judgment (of other people) and thereby radiate a halo of acceptance in a 30 foot radius.

FP: By the time this interview appears you will be married and on your way to Long Island.

CC: It is very fun to get married. Friends whom one hasn't seen in years fly in from the far edges of the world bearing gifts and good cheer. Others who you see frequently come in their most dangerous threads and dance. You get to kiss a person you truly love in front of a giant audience and then spin her around with glee.

FP: What would you like to share with Athens and your friends here?

CC: It is true that I don't really believe in saying goodbye. First of all, I am likely to return. Secondly, the world doesn't end at the edge of town. I try to keep a very broad landscape in mind when I think about place and time. If a connection with someone happened, then it remains always there. If a misunderstanding happened, hopefully it was forgotten long ago.

FP: What are your plans?

CC: The big joy of the moment is the 1977 GMC motorhome that I bought for us to live in. We are going to go camping—and keep camping—rather than move indoors. While doing that, I'm going to keep experimenting with eating a 70-ish percent raw diet. This means tons of plants and fruit. It would be fun to run an underground supper club to prove that raw foods can be really amazing. My bride is excited about that idea, and I see it as the perfect addition to yoga.

FP: What do you predict for Athens?

CC: I once heard it said that Athens changes a lot depending on who is living there. It could be true. It is a great thing that as a small human being you can have a measurable effect. Athens is just the right size to feel that you can make something magical happen. It is a good place to try out the projects that make you most excited. Trust your most expansive spirit.

Darin Beasley