Category Archives: beer

Long Gone Train

by


One of the first Artists I met in New York, Richard Heinsohn, came up from Nashville (where he beat a retreat from the cruel and fickle New York Art World to concentrate on his guitar and songs). He was up to visit our old Gallery gather some new paintings from a recent show there and play a couple of gigs in Dumbo. He stopped by Frost Street with our Buddy Major Tom Drum to see my show and collaborate on the long scroll…. and you know…. drink beer. Dave was practicing and the P.A. was up and the mikes hot and the nylon string classical guitar tuned up (not Richard’s normal instrument) and I asked Richard to play us a song then. I haven’t heard him in a few years and clearly Nashville has been good to his music. It’s nice to see someone grow in their talent over time. If you click on his name at the start of this post, you can check out his recent paintings too. We agreed that the key to life as an artist is: not to die.

Sweet

by

sweetguest.jpg
saferedirect.jpgWent on the bummer to a rather staggering party at what used to be The Tunnel (and now they call it the Tobacco Warehouse). It was sponsored by the Food Network and Perrier Jouet so there was a lot of Champagne and all sorts of world class pastry chefs knocking out sweet stuff and a devilish selection of after dinner type drinks (scotch and port and absinthe). Too much fun.

First Frost

by


The folks at 17 Frost Street were kind enough to give me some space to start knocking out drawings in The Little Prince (Le Petit Prince as it’s actually in French) while Aakash Nihalani installed his tape show and the band rehearsed. It was a nice way to start this new projet which I am imagining as a sort of modular, multi platform, multimedia memoir of my time at the turn of the century in Paris…

Though I hope it will be open enough to use as part of my ongoing blogging/vlogging experiment, the end result should be a fairly focused narrative electronic book.

I learned recently that they found St-Exupery’s downed plane in the sea. Not only this, but the German who shot him down came forward to own the kill. The irony was that Exupery was the Nazi pilot’s hero and had inspired him to fly in the first place. He had carried with him the fear and dread for all these years that he had shot down the writer/aviator and when they found the plane he knew from his flight log that it was his mission and his gun. Small world indeed.

Anyways the opening of Aakash’s show is thursday:

17 Frost and Bose Pacia Present: Aakash Nihalani
Thursday, October 9, 2008
7 – 10 pm

Located in Brooklyn’s Williamsburg neighborhood, 17 Frost, an auxiliary venue of Bose Pacia New York, will now begin hosting performance and studio arts projects. We are excited to announce the inaugural event on Thursday, October 9. Please join us as we host New York based street artist, Aakash Nihalani, who will present his impromptu and ephemeral tape installations.

Bose Pacia
508 West 26th St, 11th FL
New York, NY 10001
T: 212.989.7074
F: 212.989.6982
mail@bosepacia.com
bosepacia.com

The music here is The Replacements: Can’t Hardly Wait

Roughrost

by

frostvat2.jpg
Monday I went to see my old friend Javier rehearse with SINEPARADE in a new space, tucked away in a little hidden corner of Williamsburg. I did some timelapses of the band and Aakash Nihalani making a mural out of tape. Plus there’s some footage that MariaNYC shot at my installation last week and a garbage truck full of tomatoes, and the music here is an old song Javier made for an e-book of mine: Morococo, and then on the way to the L train we passed a parade of cop cars: 20 fucking cop cars. A good Monday.

Hanging Myself

by

studyinjoyce.jpg
Not funny really in this time of Infinite Jests, but maybe it is really exactly how I feel. I mean in the sense of eternal return, or Metampsychosis, or however you spell it and whatever Joyce was talking about…. I’m hanging the show. I feel like a worker… in the Marxist sense of that word: working on the ladders with the back into it. I mean to say that hanging a book is a physical act. I’ve been training for it like a boxer at the gym.. but my fucking thumbs are still weak for the push pins and the map pins and the pins and needles and needles and pins…..feel like a carpenter… feel like Christ crucified… stigmata on my thumb. LOL. music here is some odd Brian Wilson post Smile mid mad period song. Fucking lovely and perfect fit for my raw time lapse. More to come…

Sublerno

by

Tales of the cock at the empty store. This was from the dawn of the holiday… went out with ladies to one of these places that has “Mixologists” instead of bartenders… Lot’s of odd cocktails that conspired to give me the worst hangover I’ve had in years. I didn’t even think I was drunk, but it sure killed the next day. I was taking note of things I over heard. Everyone on the street sounded straight out of Willoughby.

Conversations With Myself

by

fragile.gif portmap.jpgRecently, I’ve had cause to want to point out the documentary bits out of my last couple of shows in Portland and New York. They were extruded onto the blog in bits and pieces several months back. I thought it might be nice to have them all together in one entry so that I could just forward that link to people. It becomes something like a four channel video piece if you can play them all at the same time, or a story if you play them in order. The box gif is new.