all space has become militarized and privatized
oy veh, it's been a long time. no big whoop, just a shitload of work to do. i never wanted to be one of those losers that checks work webmail at his sister's in jersey or gets calls at his desk because his friends know that's where he'll be late at night or on weekends, but what do you do when you feel yourself slowly advancing past your highest level of competence? or at least highest threshold of tolerance for quantity.
the mtv thing was apparently the north american premiere of that techno-voyeurism documentary that shot me babbling on my old rooftop, then babbling at my desk. tv is harder to do than photos or sitting for paintings or drawings because you have to repeat things over and over, instead of doing one thing for long or short, that's what i remember thinking after saying something profound and unexpected and then having to say it ten more times until i thought it sounded stupid and pretentious. i still have never seen it; only have heard about it afterwards. but i guess the kids liked it, because i started getting a volley of email right around 6:30pm on new year's eve. the emails were very different when the show aired in the u.k.—some of those guys i still write back and forth with because they were so smart or charming.
on the 4th, i walked around in chelsea with mr. everythingbut and we looked at art. went to nikolai fine art and they complimented his coat. i looked up when she said it but she corrected me. then he had to go jam with his band, and i peeped notes toward desolation by michael ashkin at andrea rosen. there was one fuckin awesome snapshot he took of an old house set far back from the street, with one empty car parked alongside the road. just empty sky and ground and that house and car, took me back to the south and white trashiness for a second.
all space has become militarized and privatized. these terms coincide and together provide the invisible but material ether that pervades the landscape. everything is simultaneously owned and under threat of coercion and violence. if we consider the landscape the greater subject in which we participate, we find ourselves no better off. the public has become the private. with the loss of the agora, the extent of our compromise is both complete and inconceivable.at the gym:- michael ashkin
1: is she still seeing that guy?
2: who?
1: you know, the one she was seeing a week or two ago
2: oh. yeah.
1: she sounded really happy about that.
1: she gets mad that people don't appreciate her ... creative spirituality. i remember heer saying "everyone goes to see cara's films, or john's band play, but they don't come to my.."
maybe i shouldn't walk around with my ipod on all the time, you miss interesting conversational snippets. one of the guys is a standard east village fag, with the voice like he studied abroad for a semester. maybe i have that voice too, who knows.
lately i've felt like placing a personal ad. like on nerve. if you wanna write one for me, do it right
and to place a personal ad that anyone would ever come across, you need a picture. i need new pictures.
there's so many good movies out right now, even i've been going, and i'm always the one who misses everything. the hours is good, but it's always hard when you've read the book and you know you shouldn't expect it to be the book but you still want it to, and then it's not and you feel weird. also, sometimes i think, enough about white women and their vague non-problems like not wanting people to know that they're dependent on them. the lord of the rings, sad to say it was kind of a letdown and already i don't remember much about it. talk to her, freaking incredible and beautiful and one solo in the middle of the movie where they're on the beach and he thinks he sees his bullfighter and you think your heart is going to break in two, the song is so beautiful. and 25th hour, i never cry at movies, and i didn't at this one, but you well up a little inside when they bring up 9/11 and being new yorkers.
a few days ago, this is what i get while logged on m4m4sex:
-----original message-----
from: [email protected] [mailto:[email protected]]
sent: monday, december 30, 2002 6:55 pm
to: me
subject: ******76, *****us has responded to your ad
wow u look awesome....I am looking for a hot uninhibited bottom guy who wants to get a few days to europe (austria) to have some hot fun...ticket and costs on me u take care of my juices...even if itsounds weird, I am serious..some miles to fly off and not time here to do it...interested? hope that i didint offend u....cheers additional pics (face)pls to ****[email protected] if interested
besides, what the hell would i do in austria?
when i was 22 and looking for a share in a manhattan apartment, i remember apartment owners would say "sell yourself. we're interviewing 20 people for this share." i guess times haven't changed: handsome guy with 10" boner seeks room in manhattan. the best part is that he says manhattan (or williamsburg).
"in my memory i don't remember such a terribly dark winter, and i'm 80 years old," said marc riboud, the celebrated photographer. "but i must say that while i love the sun for my body, i love the gray for my work. the sun is kitsch for me, like postcards. but the shade and mist let me dream."- elaine sciolino, "call it the city of darkness, and give it vitamin d," the new york times 5 january 2003
the times seems to be addicted to the phrase "sea change" lately.
my feet are still growing. when i was in italy, i was getting the equivalent of 10.5 shoes, none of which fit anymore, muthafucka. last year i was buying size 11 sneaks, and now those don't fit either. at least let my biceps and cock keep growing while we're at it. are you there, god? it's me, dante.
and what's this about people saying i'm hunky? why thank you.
posted January 20, 2003 in art, delivery, film, politics, print, sex, speech