The Micronation of Dubz

Dear Dubz, I loved your show. The shadow masses exorcised verbal whims and gave me remnants of ghosts, huts and robots. The sculptures were like actors in a stationary theater, but didn't negate the paintings or relegate them only to background. It was like they expounded on each other instead with the sweatband rhyming with skittle-colored paint swooshes. Who else could accomplish such humor and still not undermine the heroic desires of paint. I am excited. There were echos of Mad Max and Escape from New York - movies from the past that envisioned apocalyptic scenarios in the future. Future past was enacted with swift and sure decisions. Black and rainbows give me feelings of hope and menace. I believe you are the druid of the discount sections.

Haptic Valve Situation

My sense of touch went down the sewers with the rains. I have been sequestering myself with truancy and systemic breakdowns. There is no reason or excuse, it is a withdrawal from the inside, receding further and further in until the touch implodes into numbness. It doesn't make sense but this is how I want to say it. Do you ever get really far inside yourself so much that it feels like you are hiding and then it gets harder and harder to come out? This is the point of unnatural coma. I am sure it is beginning to end.

Windy Grasses

I am missing the grasses and trees and other green things from the wilds. I feel not human in the city, like an alien I guess you could say. I am going to send myself via regular mail four edible jelly novelties molded in the shape of pigs as a joke on the diffuse and shifting nature of meaning in contemporary life. I am aware that I may not understand this joke however the candies will taste nice.

Have a good weekend.