Your new editor is too glitchy on my ancient computer. So rather than hijack a laptop everytime I want to post something I’ll be at http://madratpandemonium.blogspot.com/
Me and Eric experimenting with some oscillaters & other gear we haven’t tried before. A perfect way to spend a Sunday afternoon. Thanks to VauxFlores & Audible Disease for creating some unique one of a kind noisemakers!
Also another reminder (probably not the last) that Eric will be playing again with Future Blondes this Wednesday at Nothing Changes, 131 Chrystie Street.
Done after a 2:30 AM self-injury episode. But creating art from it takes away that little twinge of shame that follows the blessed, blessed release. I’ve decided to become an alchemist of injury.
Despite the gloom one might expect from a self-injury inspired art piece, what emerged was a fairly tranquil scene of some birds and a fish in a lake. Which is kind of how I vascillate in coping with my mood. The internet is filled with dime-store platitudes on how to achieve happiness. Many of them strike me as sort-of victim blaming, as many of you know. Anything that implies that people are as happy or unhappy as the “decide” to be, in particular, will fill me with “happily” stabby thoughts. Despite all that,and after testing my theory with the help of Moodtracker.com, I have to say, these days I’m happy or at least at ease as much of the time as I’m feeling more negative emotions. What made me happier? Not “deciding” to be or thinking positive or any of that. Weirdly enough it was accepting that I’m not going to be happy all the time. No one is. It’s a little like what my Dad’s girlfriend taught me back as a teenager about having a bad trip when you’re on acid – remind yourself “Hey, I dropped acid. I’m having a trip.” It’s sort of the same premise. Not that I’ve dropped acid in years, but more like “Hey, I have depression, anxiety, and PTSD issues. And furthermore, this is life, and sometimes stuff that sucks will happen, and it will be upsetting. It makes sense that there will be times I won’t be happy.” So when I’m in a mood I just kind of roll with it and do whatever I need to do in that moment. And I’ve been finding with that approach, instead of going “Why am I not happy? How do I fix it and become happy? I’m a big failure emo whiner because I’m NOT happy!”…the bad moods don’t linger as long, and I’m also more appreciative of the good moods when I’m experiencing them.
collage on paper, 9″ x 12″
I think I like playing with texture.
I also think this was in part inspired by recently reading Crowley’s “The Wake World” in Konx Om Pax. The title of it, no doubt. The rest? Well, maybe not literally. But it was somewhere in the recesses of my mind. Either way, the fires of duende burst up through the desert and the owl & peregrine falcon keep watch.
Just messing around with the rainbow rats and ANS synth tones, which I overlayed on top of the footage. The guys, Ratman and Chris, are cool old skool NYC street characters…they just ask a dollar tip for people to photograph or be photographed holding the rats, who are colored with a safe vegetable based dye. They don’t try to intimidate anyone or arbitrarily raise the tip on a whim, as I’ve heard some of these bootleg Sesame Street or Toy Story costumed people have been doing. Though I’d hope not all of them are like that. (I got hit on by one of the Chipmunks once. A real sham Chipmunk who had the “A” on his shirt like Alvin and glasses like Simon.) Times Square used to be thought of as sleazy because it was full of pimps, peepshows, junkies, muggers, you name it. There are still a few of those around, but the mufugga with the real hard reputation these days is Elmo. Or ElmoS.
Had a weird encounter at this new Bush
lick wick boutique called Scumbags and Superstars…I don’t think the last two words were necessary for the guy we talked to. I was curious to see what it was due to the E.C. horror-esque flyer someone had brought into the loft. It was of yet sparse, or maybe sparseness was the intent – a rack of t-shirts, another of hoodies, and any number of collectable vintage figurines, madballs, etc. on display. There was a replica of Big Daddy Roth’s “Rat Fink” that went up to my knees.
I was admiring some pen and ink monster drawings on the wall, and the spectacled fellow behind the counter proceeded to tell me about the artist out in L.A. and how they planned to have a different artist shown every month.
So being that this whole cartoon-horror-monster-skull-devil thing has long been part of what I do, I asked if I could bring by samples or if there were someplace I could send a link of some work.
He instantly backpedaled and said, “Oh, well this art show didn’t go the way we hoped, so we’re not going to be showing anything new for a few months.” As if neither me or Eric would remember that he’d just told us that was precisely what they planned to do???
So, WTF?I mean, if he’d actually looked at the work and rejected it, well, that would still suck, but it wouldn’t seem as shady as just completely changing your story ON THE SPOT. What the hell was that? Is he one of these fuckwits who just assumes “girls can’t draw that type of thing”? Did the two of us not look affluent and “alternative-but-in-a-clean-cut way” enough? What bullshit. So far we’ve mentioned it to a few other artists we know, and the consensus has been “very unprofessional”.
But maybe it’s a blessing in disguise. I mean, would I really want to show with a shifty snooty gentrifier who demonstrates his tendency toward dishonesty the very first time you meet him? I’d think not.
August Weird Band Poll: Vote for Aeron’s Wake, Astral Knife, Britches, Heiter bis Wolkig or Plankton Dada Wave
Hey, Astral Knife is on the “Weird Band Of The Week” Poll at Weirdest Band In The World blog. If you vote for us now we won’t stage a coup later. :)
Originally posted on The Weirdest Band in the World:
How is it August already? These polls are supposed to be monthly. Oops. Well, better late than never, right? Plus this month’s batch was worth the wait, I think.
Regular readers know the drill but we’ll explain it again anyway: Voting ends midnight Sunday, Aug. 10th (California time). Based on your votes, one of these lucky, lucky bands will be named our next Weird Band of the Week. So choose carefully! The integrity of our blog rests in your twitchy little hands.
For more on this month’s bands, read on:
Astral Knife is a band from New York that does experimental noise and abstract soundscapes. They sometimes do guerrilla performances…
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A conjoined Astral Knife sketch on part of a page in my journal, snapped on Instagram. I think the concept would be more clear if the goat weren’t head-on. Yeah, I finally got with the program and got an Android, though it doesn’t have a data plan (which is good, because I pay the same still). What really prompted this though was my preoccupation with the ANS synthesizer.
It’s a Russian synthesizer invented in 1938 that generates tones by drawing, using line & color (set to Quabbalistic Queen scale colors/Theosophic correspondences.) And while the chances of me getting my hands on a real one are slim to none, there is an app for that. Tell me this is not a synesthete’s dream.
…stuff like “How can a cripple guy satisfy you?” They may or may not be the same knuckle-draggers and botched abortions who have teased him since childhood asking if his dick is crooked. So in light of the fact that I’ve been to busy to make a real blog post, I’m here to let you know my husband is descended from this god:
And that’s why you bore me. You fill me with inertia, or you would if I wasn’t already…ANYWAY here’s some actual information on the god Min, who apparently had associations with Horus and to the Greeks, identified with Pan.
Sorry, we have an Egyptologist friend who got me on this kick.
I worship Min, I extol arm-raising Horus:
Hail to you, Min in his procession!
Tall-plumed, son of Osiris,
Born of divine Isis.
Great in Senut, mighty in Ipu
You of Coptus, Horus strong-armed,
Lord of awe who silences pride,
Sovereign of all the gods!
Fragrance laden when he comes from Medja-land,
Awe inspiring in Nubia,
You of Utent, hail and praise!
I know where it isn’t, that’s for sure. While most of the clientele at my clinic would be more anxious about a dirty piss test, I’m having trouble because mine are too clean.
Namely, the Klonopin I take every night hasn’t been showing up, leading the higher ups to suspect possible non-compliance (though I’m there of my own volition and not a court mandate) or selling or even giving out the stuff.
Which I wouldn’t do. Honestly. I’m enjoying these too much. Not that that’s the proper answer either, I fear.
I don’t understand why this is happening though, honestly. All I could offer was that I drink a lot of water, that I make it a goal to drink 8 or more glasses a day, not only for the health benefits but because well…I’m on Klonopin. Two possible side effects – frequent urination and dehydration.
“Maybe it’s the apple cider vinegar you put in the water” Dad suggested when I mentioned the problem to him.
“Maybe.” I only add one capful to water daily, but neither of us were going to split hairs over the issue. We were more fixated by the issue of a big chunk of Abuelita’s roof collapsing in the kitchen leaving scattered dust, roach shells and legs, and a raw skeletal view of century-old dried wooden beams between us and the people upstairs.
And not that it’s on topic or anything, but Eric is playing with Future Blondes again in August.