Category Archives: story

Hanging Myself

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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…

Will He Be?

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This is to test some ideas about motion in a project I’ve had on the back burner for a while. I-movie let’s you do some corny motion graphics for inserts, so I thought I’d toy with them a bit… I don’t know how to do real motion graphics, but I wanted to see what that and layers and scrolling and such might turn into on the screen. The story is a bit more involved and involves three characters: Willoughby, Clark, and the narrator. Feed back, collaboration, etc. welcome.

Conversations With Myself

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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.

Dream Weaver

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Last night I had the strangest dream. I did a painting performance for JFK up in Canada. He didn’t look like JFK and he was too busy with politics to care much about my paintings. I offered him one, but he declined and I sort of agreed with him. One was too loose and the other too stiff. Later I went to some impossible Xanadu of a mall that seemed rendered in digital post production. The place was ornate and enormous and I got separated from my group from the JFK event (I think they were Hong Kong Chinese). I realized I had no idea where I was or how to get back to the hotel when I ended up walking through a sort vice court (like you have a food court in a mall, but this was all liquor and drugs and in the lower depths of the mall). Someone snatched my wallet and I chased him into a bar where the entire cast of characters there began a theatrical negotiation. If I agreed to give them 25% of the cash as a “reward”, they would return the wallet and I could even take part in the drinks they would buy. I didn’t think there were many options and I agreed and a man dressed like a brown leather Mad Hatter from Alice in Wonderland brought me my wallet and cell phone in paper bag. Someone was looking for me from the event, but I decided to sit down and stay a while with this looking glass menagerie of drunken thieves.
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