palette change in progress.
whaddaya think? also, was introduced to zero7 and now so are you:
this world
likufanele
end theme
m.s.
in muzik, december 2001: macy gray as the "marge simpson of soul."
posted January 30, 2002 in musicstoryville portraits
day 2 of bliss week. after waking up and clearing out early while clausa cleaned the apartment, went to st. mark's bookshop to gawk at how irresistible book jackets are getting these days, then saw flyer for writers' reading group and called for more info. this month's assignment is the tale of genji, and last year they read the amazing adventures of kavalier & clay, the god of small things, the verificationist, the human stain, fear of flying, blue angel, and other things i've been wanting to get around to (but i read faster under duress).
thumbed through louise bourgeois retrospective. her husband died in 1973. stravinsky premiered the rite of spring in 1913. all these important, world-changing things happened before i was born; i wish that i hadn't missed out on so much of it sometimes.
looked for resistible books, sans jackets, at the library, and placed holds on them with my shiny new library card. had (crappy) lunch in the (sunny, warm) park with (dear friend) maurice as we discussed our soccer practice absenteeism, relationships, sex in relationships, pitfalls of living as if you're a sex & the city character, then i went to northwest chelsea for a spot of gallery viewing with the following on my handspring: storyville portraits @ julie saul, david armstrong @ matthew marks, carlos betancourt @ robert miller, kunié sugiura @ leslie tonkonow. some thoughts:
- j-no, thanks for the heads-up about the bellocq exhibitbeautiful stuff. i thought that the clothed female shots were better than the nudes, but that could just be the poof in me. some, make that several, of them have these hateful black scratches over the faces. #28: woman stretched over ironing board playing with a puppy, proving that sometimes pet photos aren't totally cheesy.
- while i was looking at them, i heard a woman in the office (ms. saul herself?) telling someone over the phone to kiss her ass.
- on a billboard overlooking 26th street between 10th and 11th avenues: "to express conceptual ideas write a book, don't paint." </tongueclick>
- carlos betancourt strikes me as the john bartlett of gallery-grazing art for the moment: because he works out, his not-so-great work gets fawning coverage.
- gallery art that is "sexy" is usually "crappy." ("so what does that make dantewoo.com?" uhhh ... )
- how can you trust things made by people named kiki and roni?
- whenever you go gallery hopping, you veer off course and stick your head somewhere that ends up being the best thing you see that day. for example: tunga, which was filled with dark-colored lights and stains that (really) looked like shit and ominous sounds and copper-colored metallic rapunzel hair.
workless week
first day of workless week in between jobs. wake up at 11:30am after staying up till 4:00am watching stupid, not-worth-the-ransom-they-charge-for-it cable. eat key food plain lowfat yogurt with vermont grade b maple syrup and oaty wheat-free bites. find assorted windows updates so that i can watch my sex & the city bootleg downloaded off morpheus. listen to little wing, failure, star guitar, cybele's reverie. i think i'll get my first new york public library card today.
posted January 28, 2002 in deliverypowerpork
went to see "power ballad" at rupert goldsworthy with neil tonight. it was an exhibit dedicated to heavy metal hair bands of the 80s, and a friend of his with whom he shares a p.o. box had something in it. other than his friend's work (an irisprint homage to both space invaders and slash from guns 'n roses), the most interesting thing there was this flyer for a reception at the lure:
earth room
last week i walked down wooster street and looked at the names on the unmarked buildings, and i found alexstreeter.com and also the dia center's earth room:
two things i've noticed in music videos lately:
starting the video with the finish, then replaying it start to finish
violent videos by female artists, like janet jackson and madonna
dude, i got a dell.
inspiron 8100 laptop, 1.13ghz hard drive, 256mb ram, and a dvd drive. i need to wipe myself off now..
posted January 18, 2002 in deliveryyoshitomo nara
i read here that yoshitomo nara has an exhibition planned in new york, but i don't know when or where. you know what i'll invent someday, when i learn xml?
a site that not only has event listings a la citysearch, but also has forms where you can be notified when anything resembling your keywords arrives in town. for example, i want to be emailed when anything that looks, feels, or touches like louise bourgeois is in new york.
i wonder if it was an accident that this sentence in flavorpill's weekly mailer came out in ebonics: what you think was mlk's crowning achievement?
posted January 17, 2002 in art, delivery, printnotice
back in nyc. gave notice to my current job, accepted offer for new job, armed with recipes for childhood favorites and things cribbed from mom's cooking magazines. maybe i'll only blog about food from now on.
posted January 11, 2002 in deliverypascal aussignac
maybe if allaire and macromedia decided to merge their popular homesite and fireworks, respectively, programs, the new product would be called homeslice.
enjoying hanging out at home, reading mom's cooking magazines. did you know that there's a young chef in london whose name is pascal aussignac? cool name.
posted January 08, 2002 in deliveryaccretive
"we're having scrambled eggs," fred said, when we were finished. he put away the glass bowl of glistening white ovoids with here and there the faintest green showing. "i always think scrambled eggs come out better if you cook them in a double boilerdo you mind if i put in a dash of worcestershire sauce? it adds something i've always enjoyedbut it may not be you.""sure," i said. "go ahead."
fred got out his white enameled double boiler and returned to the stove. "i'm just so sorry marilyn didn't come with you . . . ."
i've often pondered on the terms "gay culture," "gay society," "gay sensibility." the hard-headed marxist in me knows that we must be talking about behavior, mediated through psychology, that responds to a whole set of social and economic forces that it would have been as easy to locate under fred's life as under mine. but at the intuitive level (i.e., that level wholly culture bound), where we feel as if, somehow, there is such a thing as a culture apart from infrastructural realities, gay society has always seemed to me an accretion of dozens on dozens of such minutiae, a whole rhetoric of behaviorhow to twist the skin off a clove of garlic, how to open the doors to the unsold box seats at carnegie hall with a dime, the shifting, protein and liquid knowledge of where sex is to be found in the city, this season, or worcestershire sauce in your eggsthat together make up a life texture i was at once almost wholly appreciative of, and at the same time felt almost wholly estranged from: as if it were a myth that i could never quite reach.
but perhaps (though today i still like worcestershire sauce in my eggs) any "identity"semantic, generic, personal, or culturalis always such an accretive, associative, but finally disjunctive illusion.
- delany again posted January 05, 2002 in print, sex
submit our fancies to their
writers who influence us, at least when we're young (pace harold bloom), are not usually the ones we read thoroughly and confront with our complete attention, but rather the ill- and partially-read writers we start on, often in troubled awe, only to close the book after pages or chapters, when our own imagination works up beyond the point where we can continue to submit our fancies to theirs.
- samuel delany, the motion of light and water
it wasn't until i read this that i stopped feeling silly that i call a question of power my favorite book, even though i never finished it.
posted January 04, 2002 in delivery, printa textual element into a graphical one
off to california to see moms and dad tomorrow. my first flight since flying san francisco to jfk one day before september 11th. even so, i can't wait to be homelots of down time to get way into the book i'm reading, return personal emails and calls, and at least until my jetlag subsides, enjoy waking up at 7:30am.
slow day at work today, so worked on building new homepage. i love those puzzle days of slicing and dicing photoshop files into neat, transparent, matted gifs and style sheets. took the subway home and thought about how, in order to shave one pixel off the right edge of the "d," you have to rasterize that layer, turning a textual element into a graphical one.
posted January 03, 2002 in deliverynew year's eve:
three-quarter-day at work at the quality assurance helm. interminable supermarket line to buy cream cheese and gingersnaps. baked cheesecake. met boyfiend at door in apron and nothing else. sex. pre-party at jami's; glass of champagne, roaring fire, french fry story. dinner party at maurice's; swordfish fajitas, more champagne, earth wind & fire, bloomberg swearing-in. sex & the city marathon until 4.
new year's day: jogged along east river at night, then jogged back through tompkins square park, then up avenue c to see where samuel delany used to live, behind the earth school.
i told my mailing list peeps this already, but a happy 2002 to one and alleverything gets better this year.
posted January 01, 2002 in delivery