I took it outside today to photograph it in natural light. All in all I still kind of suck at photographing artwork that can’t be scanned. :p
I use a rolling suitcase to transport gear or art stuff on the subway. I guess the drawback to that though is that occasionally someone might be stupid enough to mistake me for a tourist…at least, I can only assume that the reason for what happened today. As I waited for a transfer on the grimy platform from express to local I felt a quick blow between my shoulders, and a sarcastic male voice sneering “Excuse me”. It didn’t really hurt, but it knocked me forward a bit, so to keep from falling I braced my left arm against the suitcase handle and planted the right foot behind me into the body of whoever did the for support (yeah right…😉 ) I also shouted WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING to make a scene. The person scurried back and away and I pivoted around to see the back of a slender person in a stain grey hoodie and shorts over sweatpants hurrying off. He wasn’t much taller than me. The weird thing is, today was muggy and humid, stinking fetid hot…who wears a hoodie in weather like this?
I’m sure my mental health hygiene in in no way helped by huge piles of whale excrement in my inbox.
No wait, that can’t be entirely right.
Because I’ve heard that whale shit is known as ambergris and some people actually consider it aromatic and worthwhile.
Kill all the liars, before they eat the kittens…
The cacophonous symphony of mood swings and colliding energies continues it’s storm, senior dementia, schizoaffective disorder, hepatitis c, self medication, doctor’s medication, ideological arguments…
Conversations that begin in Spanish and end in glossolalia. Lucky for Abuelita I’m fluent in glossolalia and clang.
The Bloody Lunar as Crimson as the Fiery Phallic Solar
The Blood that carries all the codes, the strands of life and death.
Swirling like the coiled Serpents of Kundalini aroused, arising,
Double helixes if DNA.
Memories of a species, of a race, of a leftover stardust.
A history of turmoil.
A history of difficulty.
The growing pains we humans call Evolution. Or Enlightenment.
Like the rest I carry the code.
I let it seep down my legs back to the Abyss or the Waters of Binah.
It’s all good.
Others are better suited to that task than me.
I grasp the Lightning that precedes the Thunder.
Yellow knew he was slipping again, but he didn’t give a damn. That sweet golden brown rush had too much ap-peal.
Friday the 13th turned into the Astral Knife noise freestyle party. It was amazing. I hope someone got footage of it. I was under a veil the whole time.
Because I’m showing some new works at this, opening Saturday. I’m also showing work at the Tobacco Road for the Hell’s Kitchen Art Festival this weekend, and Astral Knife will be performing there tomorrow night, our lucky Friday the 13th.
Tobacco Road is a bar across the street from Port Authority that I remember under different names at different times. I went there to see about the sound and was mistaken for a runaway by some businessmen who, when I politely refused the Alpha yup’s offer to buy me a round, told the bartender to bring me one anyway. At least she handed it directly to me.
Whatever, it used to be my job to extort alcohol from clowns like this while offering nothing in return. The appropriate response in this situation is to change what you you were having to something top shelf.
So the FDA has announced that Abilfy is linked with poor impulse control which can often lead to terrible decision making. You can read all about it here:
I’d like to take this opportunity to declare 2006-2009 of my life a drug casualty.
Part 1 and other Platform Edge stories can be read at Tapastic :
Somehow I went and got myself committed to two exhibits and a performance this month, because that’s what I do and I wouldn’t be satisfied if I didn’t. But I need to make more new work.
But first, I need to make dinner. We have garbanzos and collard greens, gotta see what I can do with that.