Hanging Myself

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…

Go Down Moses

google-earthscreensnapz002.jpgeastmanhole.jpgeastsupremetist.jpgeastgoog.jpg
After the traditional birthday lunch with my mom and her husband, I decided to walk back to Brooklyn. I’m always after a novel route, so I decided to walk east to where Moses parted the tenements (Robert, that is) and turned them into a maze of grid bricks like suprematists and abstract painting and Russia and Stalin. I’ve been in Stuytown and some of the other developments over the years, but I’ve never taken in this huge stretch of brick housing in one good walk before. My meanderings ran from Kips Bay all the way down to Chinatown. It was like visiting a whole “other” Manhattan. I was thinking to myself how I’ve never really seen it used effectively in mass culture. For a city that’s been so thoroughly pictured in t.v. and movies, it’s amazing to me that no on has seen fit to find what a great character this architecture might play in a story. It got me thinking… walkeast.jpg