it's in the bag and smells oh so fresh and clean

"look what i found" the little boy chirped running barefoot up the path to his sister, a girl just a few years older but ancient in his eyes.

he pulled his hands apart revealing to her overarching head, a small sail boat no bigger than a thumbtack floating in his cupped hands pool of water.

"put it back" she said with urgency, "put it back now"

he looked down at it, gently bobbing in his hands. the sails coming down as the tips of his fingers blocked out the setting sunlight.

"its not yours" she said.

"i know", the boy said, not looking up from the boat which was now letting down a little anchor to set into the fortune lines of his little palms.

he turned about and lowered the boat back into the puddle where he'd discovered it.

coming back to his sister, it appeared her mood had again lightened. she put her arm around his shoulder and they walked on.

"remember, she said, if you want a little boat"

"i know i know, he replied, i've got to build it myself"

i will teach you how to win for the price of your pain

champagne poured down from the heavens and we were bathing in its tinny tasty sparkles.

nam june paik was kickin it uptown with chuck close that old dog. having a conversation/argument about the PsP. something about tiger woods.

they looked at me, dumbfoundedly staring at them. then returned to ignoring me, a nobody small town wannabe.

nam and chuck walked off and some cat from EYEBEAM gallery came over and placed a hand on my shoulder

"dont let it get you down bro, the owner of the hand said. they'll like you when you're somebody"

i stopped my staring of the fine fine artists and turned to the guy talking to me. i looked at him, he had a consoling look upon his face and we connected.

"i dont like your work" i said and walked off.

i love the smell of fine art in the morning

the met
the moma
the guggenheim
the whitney

& apparently montel williams

art so much my muscles are twitching my hands are shaking my feet are aching and my brain
my brain
my brain

is on fire.

the days are muddy @ the Dia Beacon

Dia Beacon
breathtaking, difficult, confusing.

installation of work is what makes work.
this goes for video, sculpture, and lots of print.

Scale of piece dictates scale of room, lighting (dark rooms seem harder to concentrate in. at least for me)

sound, audio while viewing piece. what is part of piece and what is not (buzzing of generator, chirp of birds)

piece itself, conceptual work, seems to be about impact. big heavy leaning metal. large walls of drawings. lots and lots and lots of glass, sand wood. modules modules modules. came about feeling bad, mad, sad. conceptual art has a high fence around it wrapped in razer wire.

On Art: Day One

on the Sculpture Center.
First stop on this trippy trip through City City.

first piece, big. Text based and lit. standing back it was words, stepping closer in it was materials arranged in a way that interprets into words when standing back. looked good from front looked fun from back but looked best when seen from around and around and around. around and around some more then downstairs where

boink.

where tunnels cut into footage of rollercoasters, and circus-ee cutouts. nothing too tight in my eye but for a peep hole. yes i know the peep hole but it was not the piece nor the hole i liked but how it let me see that when viewing a spacial 3D environment through a hole it flattens out. depthless. a picture.

after the S.C. took a break and particiapted in a creative act. stripped down to hanes pale gray briefs and suited up in a large balloon creature suit meant to be purchased by rich New Yorkers for Costume Parties most likely on New Years in Time Square or maybe, just maybe something to do with wallstreet and good numbers.

after photo shoot got pizza then delved into PS1.
large raw site. with lots.
everyone will talk about vik so ill skip. saw someone i know from portland.

pick of choice: video piece forgive me for i dont have my notes, but ill enter the name later. female artist, using footage form threes company, short short loops of characters hand jumping back to play head after only four or five seconds. jumping back jumping back jumping back but simultaneously panning off to the left and being replaced by another short loop. at least twenty loops all jumping and sliding and getting us higher and whoozier as we sat in trance. beyond that, after a few seconds of listening to the fast chaotic horns that accompanied the piece i saw the music being dictated by the motion of the hands. boo-doo-dee-doo, boo-doo-dee-doo on and on and as a new sequence slid in, boo-doo-dee-doo, boo-doo-dee-doo was overlapped and replaced by dee-doo-bee-boo, dee-doo-bee-boo and on and on.

oh gosh, that was hot.

the stuff i didnt like was lots but thats not important to talk about right now. its not that it sucked, well maybe it did. its that it was, it was just _______. also it was too ________.
but on the other hand so is the stuff i like.

The Initial

first day was amazing. fresh, like i had just been born. where every human looked like an alien, no i was the alien in a disguise. in that oh-so poppy look of blazer and hood i melded in with the other young white kids as we watched breakdancers and pot drumming entertainers mezmerize us with what looked so easy for them but was more amazing than the television set.

second day was comfortable...more so, we got lost on the subway but it was no panic. hustled under the water where our ears popped in tandem and unpopped as we stretched our jaws on the streets of brooklyn. it was not so much a time warp as a spacial jump. so familiar was the lax sunday youth crowd with coffee shops and free life creative energy pulsing gammit blasting atmosphere. hip. nice clothes and some galleries.

today was sleepy, and easy. hopped a train out of town. up to DIA Beacon. finally got some down time to b.l.o.g. now im blogging. then im going to the toy store.

March Twenty Third: vomitous mass

click...click...click...

CLACK

snap