Archive for June, 2009
A dip at Hidden Beach under stars, falselight spinning on an axis sweeping between the sounds of falling cans. Contemplate this sacred life. Then hangfog emerging from deep night. Red ant avalanches on the parking lot edges and finally the realization that traffic was forming on the roads because people were going to work. Every morning like this for them : every morning like this for me.
Was in a brawl last night. Cameras destined for concrete. Kids in a pile. Hearing replaced by moted feedback. Broken glass. Fellini’s 8 1/2 and Fight Club. Everyday offers overwhelming beauty but last night was on the edges of my understanding.
Sink or swim. Swim or sink. Sink in the swim. Swim in the sink. Sink and swim. Swim and sink.
“Withdrawn” is a collage on vinyl and is from the “Useless Records” series; in this case, Linda Ronstadt’s “Living in the USA”. “Living in the USA,” like other records in the “Useless Records” series, was chosen because of its unfortunate ubiquitousness in the bins of record shops nationwide.
“One withdrew into death. One withdrew into self-pity. And the most important one withdrew into solid black lines.”
In fourth grade I asked my music teacher if Alice Cooper’s “School’s Out” could be played on the boombox for the class on the last day of school. She took the cassette home and returned it to me the next day saying the lyrics were inappropriate and encouraged things she didn’t want to encourage (like blowing up the school). I listened to the tape on fuzzy padded headphones anyway. Since then I’ve always connected the feeling of walking out of school on the day before summer break with the feeling of walking out on a job: one of complete and temporary freedom.
Enjoy the summer, kids!
Don’t rip up Patrick’s flowers: Patrick defends his castle (996kb mp3)
A mirror and shades of dark purple. People who live by plans and core codes trip on the dice at the doorstep. And what did they miss tracing their fingers along the map made for them? Their truths are found in the legend. To each their own I guess. If they’re happy where I couldn’t possibly be, who am I to judge? So lives on the celebration of beads and trinkets.