LOVER

Sauve Qui Peut (La Vie)

1. My prose is a magpie's
2. Books erupt
3. Disorderly excess at times of lonely crisis
4. A life's full sustenance in art
5. Some emotional substration
6. A handful of unconventional men of the kind I felt I needed to be
7. The usual reasons, amplified to a scream
8. Jules et Jim
9. Alone at The Thalia
10. A preference for art that requires endurance that mimicked a galactic endlessness and wears out the non believers
11. Jodphurs to school
12. The party was in the apartment of a man named Louis
13. Subjective, sad, special
14. Shiny self-pitying grandeur of Pink Floyd
15. New York's homosexual demimonde
16. Empty repertory houses
17. Inflamed
18. I must therefore be an adult myself
19. Was quietly wrecked
20. Ululate. Or orgasm.
21. A long finishing, an ebbing away
22. Surrogate brain
23. The white unicorn and his goatlike slit pupils
24. My mother's death, I sing it in order to quit singing it.
25. A paltry beard
26. Find a way to forget
27. Spoil the illusion of originality
28. Wild green grasses are going to take over
29. How many tadpoles
30. "Howl's Moving Castle"
31. Old pine tree
32. Houghton Lake Michigan
33. Degrees

Smoking/Eye

I have been trying to post all day. Stymied by my own ever-vigilant bullshit detector. I could write about my exhibition/installation upcoming at ACME gallery, could muse about nests and names of the dead and how it is we define and instigate natural disasters. There's plenty I can say about the tunes I'm listening to, the articles or books I'm reading, what it's like to run a business that isn't mine but feels like it is, what it's like to actually wish I could live in San Francisco or Oregon somewhere where it's always raining like this. There's plenty roiling away in these guts I could describe - hope, vision, desire, fear, the way I internalize the external world, the way I'm affected by his sorrow or her cruelty. But really, this is already enough. What this is about is it's time for me to be painting and drawing. Language is just too much.

All of his animation is hand-drawn.

And he was born in Houston Texas.

SHOOT

And here he is, Herman Leonard at work. For me, it's all about the veil. And how far I've come to be here for this.

Comes A Time

1. Norwegians wore paper clips on their lapels during WWII as a symbol of their resistance to Hitler and his anti-Jewish campaign.
2. Break bottles, remember who you are
3. Acting like lovers
4. An orphan you know
5. We move in little circles, we are The Little Circle Dancers
6. Must be Crowley
7. Hold that pose Lyle, Norman Rockwell's gettin' his easel outta the car!
8. Strange amalgams of the sacred and profane
9. He wasn't fit for seeing people or just seeing me?
10. Paul Henly don't ever do a Diet Coke commercial
11. Unabashed display of finery
12. Last I heard he was in Arizona
13. The textural delicacy of peeling
14. Warsaw in Poland
15. C'est la qu'est mon étouile, c'est la qu'est mon trésor.
16. We could talk all night.
17. Doris Burn "Andrew Henry's Meadow"
18. McKinley McDaniel's Hawaiian Concert
19. A possible solution
20. IPA Ballard Bitter
21. The higher part always
22. a. Annonce Grotesque b. Compacta c. Cooper Black d. Melior e. Microgramma Bold
f. Ringlet g. Profil
23. Lawn littered petals
24. A chemistry thing
25. Misses and scuttles
26. 453498*23:J and 8977?22MARY
27. Coating the facade of exploitation with the stucco of so-so songs
28. Aficianado, a slice of beef
29. She's into puncture
30. It's own sick bay
31. Great rolls of Luxus semi-fine No.2
32. Octagon House
33. Degrees

death or glory, it's just another story

At work today, Zack Smith shot this.

Hunter S. Thompson dang. What do I think of him killing himself? All I can think is "serotonin depletion". The idea that you can drug & drink your whole life & it's not gonna change your brain chemistry or influence your perspective or control your emotions is BULLSHIT! Bullshit I tell you!

And so he put a gun to his head, Tobey did too, lots of people do it. I think it's very sad when someone feels that tortured about life, when someone feels that much pain. I also think it's a very ugly, violent, painful way to die & an ugly, violent, painful thing to do to the people who love you. They never seem to worry about whose gonna find them or whose gonna clean up the mess. That's what keeps me from doing it: thoughts of others. It seems to me that suicide is THE MOST selfish thing a human being can do. And I think that's why people who succeed at it feel they have to do it: it's the one thing they've got total control over, that's how lost and powerless they feel. And it's a legitimate choice, to take your own life, it is the ultimate choice: to live or die, it's in my own hands. It has been said by those existentialists that until one embraces suicide as a viable option of something one can "do" with one's life and choose to not do it one is never wholly alive.

I guess I think alot about the whole damn thing and I'm scritching scratching off these words without much thought. This isn't meant to be unsympathetic, I know lots of people feel horrible about it. He did write some powerful stuff. But I'm still glad I didn't let him pick me up at the Circle Bar.

And there's this: Today is the 40th anniversary of Malcolm X's assasination. Interesting to compare that with Hunter S. Thompson's suicide.

quiz

- So we need an MSN quiz to help us figure out "What makes you happy? Find out what you value in life!" ?!?
- Why are all dots polka dots?
- I want a Totoro doll.

The infamous/striped

1. Henry Darger
2. Warner's list
3. At least 50 egrets, some blue herons, geese, parrots (the pond was covered in algae, the pond is not covered in algae)
4. Turning the earth
5. The High Llamas/the silver Volvo wagon
6. Ginger ale/Orangina/ICB Rootbeer
7. Tell me about it when we're someplace warm and safe and there's food and good things to drink
8. Sadie the lost dog
9. Ping pong/air hockey
10. The effervescent plural of seed
11. A smock is waiting
12. Those lacy scissors
13. Philistines/proletariots
14. The computer never did it like that
15. Oh god, workshop
16. Fax music
17. The Chart Room's pee-line
18. Paper towel design
19. Electron 22 blue III
20. Can code be sexy? Can the deep intimacies of code lead to personal trauma of the most exhilarating kind? Igor Stromajer (Slovenia), creator of the Intima Virtual Base, is convinced that code is the very manifestation of what our human imagination pursues in the state of desire, and has developed an extensive body of work based on his research into 'tactical emotional states' and 'traumatic low-tech strategies.' Military tactics are in fact a common theme throughout many of the works on the site, and the careful maneuvering of the code in a project such as Ballettikka Internettikka Part Two is likely to induce a traumatic state, if not in the human experiencing it then at least in the computer processing it. Stomajer's intoxication with code is not purely Dionysian, but the asceticism he claims for his own is only relative to the high technological complexities populating the rest of the net art world. Visit www.intima.org to experience his particular brand of low-tech ! solutions for inducing radical emotions. http://www.intima.org
21. We will not ever no stop growing

imagine an unusual situation

I am wildly in love with Judith Scott's work, not because of her "outsider-ness" but because her work is bone-crushingly powerful and appeals to all of the obsessions I carry around with me itching for expression. First time I saw her stuff was three/four years ago in NYC. I walked up 3 flights to a gallery in Chelsea, totally "by accident" and have been haunted ever since. I could tell you why wrapped objects make me so crazy with fever gleeful, jumping around like a colty girl, set on fire with cravings and filled to the brim with oxygen, but what are words? All I know is she is mythic, her work is mythic, it hurts me it hits so hard, there's examples everywhere of lives wholly lived.

Today Herman Leonard gave me an egg-cup full of cold unfiltered saki & we toasted, "To art! And all the joy that it brings!" and then I put the Cartier-Bresson, the Gottliebs, the Walter Iooss' back in their drawers and put some porkchops in apple cider to brine.

Tonight David and I are going to pace the Walker Percy streets of Gentilly, bundled up against the icy cold 45 degree winds, and sing Christmas carols to noone for no reason in particular. Or we're gonna watch "Irma la Douce" sipping hot cocoa eating coconut macaroons burning all the candles down. And then I have to get to work on the installation I'm building for this March 6th opening at ACME Gallery. Because life isn't all fun & games you know.

Sea Change

There`s something always happening inbetween the happenings. It hooks me and shoots me full of bliss. I could hang on that hook and die like this, happy.

- Rotary Downs "Wherever You Are"
- Dasheed calling from India to interview Hermy
- Omlet w/ham & cheese

the big guns

The days they are tumbling and I heard on Charlie Rose last night the word "blog-o-sphere" more times than a person really needs to. I guess "this" is The Place, the post-modern space for radical deconstruction and the reconfiguring of social/cultural hierarchies! Where readers can comment immediately and there is no seperation between writer and reader woo hoo! The round-table speakers went on and on about how now it's possible to "read exactly what you were thinking and where you were at 10:10 a.m. on Wednesday February 16th 2005." And I thought, well, I always could do that with my handwritten journals, I still do, what's the difference? How is "this" "new"? The idea that it's going to "last forever"? I hate to break it to you, smarty-pants round-table-ers, we've yet to find anything that will cheat death. And oh: can somebody tell Charlie Rose that the truly radical call this an "online journal" for now?

So they went on & on so enthusiastic, you gotta hand it to smart academics, they're so earnest and fiery, they make me miss NYC, they make me crave Grad School. And I sat with my new "Eloise" in my lap and thought of how, really, I want nothing more than to drink fine champagne straight outta the bottle. To stand underneath the Japanese magnolia while the big mild kissy wind blows the petals down sipping a $50 bottle of champagne right out of its heavy green bottle. Or: to be the Japanese magnolia you stand under and shower you with champagne and pink and foggy morning winds.

- L.S.B. is far from me but I love her w/my whole heart.
- Brooklyn, Greene St.
- Las Vegas Nevada
- Getting the Henri Cartier-Bresson outta storage
- 2x sets of keys
- 907 Chartres Street
- You should see these tights
- Ducks chasing ducks
- Todd Rundgren "Something/Anything?"