Tag Archives: art

Taxi BQE

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tax

 

I was coming home in the taxi when I called you and you were already home and getting ready for bed and so I hung up and asked the cab driver where he was from originally and he said, “Egypt” and so we spoke of pyramids, and the Old Testament, and Islam, and Israel and Palestine and terrorism and when we’d exhausted all that we spoke of dogs.  He said his pit bull was having a bad allergic reaction to something in the Autumn air, or ground.  His skin was all inflamed and the dog took to licking its paws to try and stop the itch.  The dog’s paws were now a bloody mess and he’d scratched his belly raw in great spasms of back leg sharp claw digging.  They had to put the  dog’s head in a huge plastic cone.

“Space Dog,”  I said

“Yes, like a space dog, exactly.”

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taxi3taxipaw

It was nice to agree on something and we whisked through the Brooklyn night home to where I pet the dogs and checked their paws just to be on the safe side.

 

Death Cards For Willoughby

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double_u UU sends cards for dead Mexican Kings my way and it made me think how much I’m playing cards these days.  I’ve been spending a lot of time editing Cage with Dave S. and that feels like a poker game half the time.  I’ve also been trying to storyboard Willoughby which feels like a card game too, in the sense of discreet rectangle pictures laid out like solitaire.  More hands to come!

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Last of a Dying Breed

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Vito and friends eat up Williamsburg and environs. Music is a couple of guys playing banjo and fidel from across the tracks at the Metropolitan stop on the L and G. It really created a great vibe. Folks were dancing with eachother from platform to platform. NY is nice in the fall sometimes.

Time

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god2sandoz
And the crowd all gathers and screams for the same old shit. Won’t get fooled again? Ha.samold
Unless you have drunk the Cool Aid, you are left with a Split Personality on the whole thingsplitpersonnality

Clark Comes Down

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Clarktest2
Clark comes down as if somehow gentically engineered to interrupt the peace of my morning cigarette and he is all burning and fire; when all I wanted, or needed was smoke. He is, as always, too much: Too many words, too many laughs, too many tears and too many needs. Naturally he needs to bum a cigarette. I want to tell him to buy his own, but his mother just died and I don’t know… I think you just have to give things to people in mourning in the morning. So I do.
Clarktest

The Other Night At Barbès

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Barbes
The other night I was home alone and bored with drawing on the computer and bored with all manner of other digital media distractions and most importantly, bored with being alone. I became nostalgic for Paris. So inspired by the recent and past collabs with UU, I decided to grab the old Montmartre valise of magic (drawing supplies and paper scraps,etc.) and head out to a local spot I haven’t haunted in a while, Barbes. There to make a mess with ink and paper and people and the ultimate solvent: alcohol. Tango music filled the air as I made some scribbles. It was a nice time and today I am playing with the drawings and thinking about how mixing up video images and digital drawing for Willoughby could be as fun and sort of familiar as making Café Collages, or whatever you call those things I’ve been doing on books and maps and scraps since at least Paris and then Galapagos back in ’97 or 8 I think? Still, it seems important to keep people and place and paper involved at least on a conceptual level.

In other news, it seems official that I will be doing a residency at 17 Frost from November 3 Through the end of the Year! This will be a multimedia installation for the project we’ve been collaborating on since last summer, CAGE.
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