Category Archives: The Library Project

Paris Bends

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I revisted this old photocollage from 11years ago while sitting at the Sauvignon with UU (video here)from flickr. The old one used one of those photobooths from the Garre St. Lazarre. I always found the whole Amelie photobooth story quite a souvenire as I was obsessed with those booths and Montmartre. The video is just all the stuff off my pocket cameras and none of the HD stuff. I will probably marry some of the low and highrez images, but for now this is a very crude pockumentary.

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…

To Sea. See?

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I fell upon this river of words while surfing the streams of video and I thought to myself, “this would look good with standing still sky text so the words have something to flow past and so I’m writing this and thinking of some great body of water carrying me along like words, or maybe some great body of words carrying me along like water. This then is the long, meaningless horizon line.
TurnipFish from Conor on Vimeo.

Rabbit Goes To the Library

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The curtain rises on rabbit and the sun goes up the ladder and through the trees. A new day, or the same old thing?

Here are a few new library project collabs that continue to appear. They are from Brian Raszka to be finished by me, From Jonval Nicholas and Tara Ross, From Tony VandenBoomen and Jade Peggler , and a collab start by Marci Senders that has become a sort of book as stage animation by Sonja. She has a whole story going to which my rabbit story was a dark prologue.

Robert Rabbit

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Rabbit woke up and looked at his reflection in the enormous mirror over his bed.
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He’d inherited the mirror from some previous tenant – a sex pervert from the cocaine 80’s perhaps? Rabbit left it on the ceiling in part from lazy entropy and in part for its kitsch value.

He used it as an icebreaker at the bar; saying, “Believe it or not, I have a mirror over my bed…. Creepy right? It was there when I moved in.”

And sometimes a woman would come back to the flat to confirm the story and they would laugh and speculate about the previous tenant: Maybe a sex pervert from the cocaine 80’s? Maybe a kinky gay man? Maybe an exotic prostitute? Maybe a cocaine addled, gay, exotic prostitute from the 80’s?.

They would laugh and think about the tawdry reflections the mirror might have cast once upon a time and it all became too funny and ridiculous and they would fall into the bed with ironic laughter and a sort of lonely, drunk, narcissistic curiosity. He would watch the women watching themselves laughing and then not laughing and then kissing him and then stripping and eventually he watched them watch themselves fuck him. The kitsch and the irony falling away to “oh what the hell?” experimentation. The mirror was meant to be ironic, but it worked like a charm none the less.

He got his nick name, Rabbit, from a mousy girl named Alice. She had a strange Lacanian response to the mirror and regressed into ridiculous baby talk at the sight of herself floating on the ceiling. She kept calling out his name during the act, “Robert oh Robert.”

But it grew softer and softer, smaller and smaller into baby talk: “Robert, oh Rabert, oh Waabbit, Oh rabbit…”

“Did you just call me Rabbit?” he asked. “What is this an Updike novel?”

“Rabbit want to go in the hole?” she asked.

“What?”

“Wabbit want go in de hole?” she repeated.

“What?… Yes. Sure. I guess.”

“guess what wabbit?”

“Go in the hole,” he said sort of disgusted.

“Say it right.”

“Yes I would like to go in the hole…. sounds retarded.”

“Say it.”

“Wabbit want go im de hole,” he said in an infantile voice and she fell upon him like cupid at a Roman orgy and it was perfect and magical, if slightly bizarre.

Like an idiot, he’d told his friends the story and the name stuck,… but not Alice. Not any of them. They all came to the mirror an then never returned. He was left like the third wheel of a menage a trois. He was left all alone on the ceiling now floating in the white sheet clouds.

“Fucking Lonesome,” he thought. “No one but me and some asshole named Rabbit.”

More Songs About Movies

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Here are some Collabs from Brian Raszka and The Library Project. He’s taken up my animated gif obsession and when you stack them up like this it really becomes sort of cinematc. This trio is all obsessed with Foreign and American film: Particularly the word play on French New Wave stars Goddard and Truffaut… Which is sort of like God is True or Faux (meaning “fake” in French)?. Brian’s animated finishes come right at a time where Sonja is trying to engage the group in a larger animated story. More on that idea as it happens.
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