artistic thoughts

Paul Huet (1804-1869)

2008-01-03T16:15:00.000-05:00

Renoir - Les Baigneuses

2008-01-02T16:40:00.000-05:00

When you get so large that your perfumey pink flesh hovers in animated rungs around your body and you are now a living buoy, please call me.

Delacroix, The Lion Hunt

2008-01-02T16:36:00.000-05:00

There is a study of this painting in the Orsay, I can't find a good image of it online, but the finished one is almost as intense.

Ok wait, here is the study:

I like it better, it is more roiling and in flux. Hurts are easier to imagine here.

L'Asperge

2008-01-02T16:15:00.000-05:00

Ok seriously this was my favorite painting in the Musee D'Orsay. I will post more but...is it just me or is the history of every painting contained in the inflamed tip of this vegetable and the countertop it rests on?

Christmas Retardation

2007-12-24T21:12:00.000-05:00

Really have a great Christmas if it is your thing. Enjoy the the atmosphere of selfish consumption and lackluster party planning. Allow yourself to ingest rapid amounts of curdled blood and sink your teeth into the flesh of people's arms who mean nothing to you. Please drool. Please excrete foamy mal-digested pointilist liquid tableaux into your toilet. Take a picture of it and send it to me. Send it via fax or regular mail it doesn't matter.

More Blart

2007-12-21T09:30:00.000-05:00

Felix Vallatton, The Church of Souain, 1917

Angela Dufresne, Me and Bruce Lee and another famous yet un-nameable man on the shore in front of an unmade building by Frank Lloyd Wright called the Donahue Triptych, 2004

Mark Bradford, Scorched Earth, 2006

Pleasant dying arches to find your lack of way in.

Tato, Pousette-Dart & Hartung

2007-12-08T11:03:00.000-05:00

"Wols" or Alfred Otto Wolfgang Schulze (1913-1951)

2007-12-07T19:46:00.000-05:00

Jean Fautrier (1898-1964)

2007-12-06T08:31:00.000-05:00

French artist Jean Fautrier fought in WW I, like many artists of that time. His paintings anticipated the emergence of Art Informel, the European counterpart to Abstract Expressionism. They are dark and ominous, smeared and hazy. Here are two paintings of glaciers from 1926:

From 1934 to 1939 Fautrier stopped painting, became a ski instructor and ran a jazz nightclub in the French Alps.

Later, when he returned to Paris during WW II, he worked in a studio that was near a wooded area where the Nazis executed their prisoners. At night he could hear the screaming victims. In response he created the "Otage" (Hostage) series, which includes sculpture as well as paintings. The paintings feature thickly applied paint and plaster and crudely articulated scribble-like gestures to evoke primitive heads with bumps and holes instead of features, chunks of flesh with bloody gashes.

After the war, he turned to more everyday objects, depicting them in a confectionary palette of pastel hues - but they are painted in the same style as the Otages. The strange and somewhat problematic fusion of kitsch and the horrors of war is interesting to me. As his friend Francis Ponge wrote, Fautrier combines "brilliant discomfort and rage in a smooth bouquet."

There is a great article by David Ebony on Fautrier (Art in America, September 2003). You should read that.

Peveril Castle

2007-12-04T21:49:00.000-05:00

It's up a steep steep incline in the town of Castleton in Derbyshire, England. My grandmother is 4 feet tall & lives nearby. When I go to visit I hike in the peaks and valleys and woods. It is the fairy territory, it is magical and hurts me in the kidneys, it is part of me like a fun virus. Fun virus, come to me and stay.

Samuel Palmer, Otto Dix, Jean Fautrier, Asger Jorn

2007-12-03T12:05:00.000-05:00

Everyday Stains

2007-05-14T18:38:00.000-05:00

A stain is nothing to be ashamed of. You can embrace the discoloration. As long as the smell factor is kept in check. There has been an obliteration but there is hope for the sessions to re-convene.

I am tired and full of mystery and portent. Super tired.

Herve Sings

2007-05-12T21:03:00.001-05:00

It's not ok, I know. I did it anyway. Make sure you stay tuned until the symmetrical morph comes. Stay tuned.

Hi

2007-05-12T06:48:00.000-05:00

I am in hiding, incognito, preparing to go on the lam. I am going to cut all my hair off like Helen Slater in The Legend of Billie Jean. I am on a fake rampage wherein I will steal gum and sleep on a tuffet when I am not yelling (FB I admit it I am a yeller too) or wielding sticks in the wind.

I am visiting the parents this weekend and these are the things I think of. UF is in California, the bum. Why I didn't go is right now a mystery to me. I could have gone to a puppet show video festival thing in Joshua Tree where our video is being shown. But I didn't. I could have called the Capt'n to say ahoy.

Did you know that my life is verging on extreme pointlessness? Just curious. Does anyone else feel the same? I know this is a droning repetitive message but there it is. At least my nephew is super cute.

Fat Cat Sat Hat with Bip Bipadotta

2007-05-10T03:17:00.011-05:00

Leonard Nimoy Sings About Bilbo Baggins

2007-05-02T13:43:00.001-05:00

He forehead dances with girls in sweatshirts.

Muppet Show - Drum Battle Buddy Rich Vs Animal

2007-05-02T08:30:00.001-05:00

Stop Smiling

2007-04-26T13:03:00.000-05:00

UF and I made a video. This is it. Sharing is caring even if you don't like what is being shared with you. True.

Danger

2007-04-12T07:47:00.000-05:00

Things to beware of today:

Rashes

Plumber's Butt

Spilled Juice

There are more, but this is just a start. A friendly warning for your day. You can never be too careful is my motto, although I am rarely careful at all, more careless if anything but whatever. What you see is what you get. Trust your gut. In point of fact it's all you can do get through the day because at the end of the day, it's anyone's game. Speaking of games, it's more important to play than be a winner. Winning isn't everything. Keep your eye on the prize, it's waiting for you at the end of the rainbow as you know. Just follow your heart and you will find yourself in the bottom of a well with full knowledge that your future is bright just as the world comes to an end.

From my heart to yours in cuddles.

Love,

MM

John Martin

2007-04-06T22:25:00.000-05:00

He is an old batty painter too. It is good to be old and dead and visionary. Right? Fire in the sky and caverns beneath the earth - this is where they bake the famous tofu loaf.

Love,

Troubled

Joseph Wright of Derby

2007-04-06T07:26:00.000-05:00

Cave at Evening, 1774

Into the cave I am travelling in order to expand and contract into a better person. Suckiness is banished as are foul utterances, except if they are said in jest. Today I write the press release announcing my exciting involvement with orthotic devices. Expect to read about my new form of ambulation which includes four different kinds of canes. A special kind of blister results but it is no match for the spunk I experience when I move around on these canes.

Why

2007-04-05T08:49:00.000-05:00

I want to post a video and both Google and Youtube tell me that my blog login information is not correct. Yet it is the login name and password I use every time. Why am I the only person who can't post videos. I hate computers. I hate the internet, I hate everything, I hate the arts, I hate every person and every item that I can see and even those items I can't see. Puke. You may say I am over-reacting but I say no. This is the appropriate reaction. My fortune is mucky like your shoe-bottom after you stepped in dog poo.

Insult Poem

2007-03-22T08:38:00.000-05:00

"This poem is by Archilochos, the first Western lyric poet and a contemporary of Homer. What's remarkable about him, especially for a lyric poet, is that he was a mercenary soldier by trade. Practically everything of his that survives is a fragment, but this one seems to be complete. One of the big genres for Greek lyric poetry was the insult poem, much like a Rap tirade."

Thanks Stephen Ellis for sending the poem & info! I love this genre. I am going to embrace it, I feel it might be a good one for me.

Swept overboard, unconscious in the breakers,
strangled with seaweed, may you wake up in a gelid
surf, your teeth, already cracked into the shingle,
now set rattling by the wind, while facedown,
helpless as a poisoned cur, on all fours you puke
brine reeking of dead fish. May those you meet,
barbarians as ugly as their souls are hateful
treat you to the moldy wooden bread of slaves
And may you, with your split teeth sunk in that,
smile, then, the way you did when speaking as my friend.

Jael: Creatress of Spaces in Which to Wonder and Ponder

2007-03-18T10:48:00.000-05:00

Jael is a science fiction and fantasy artist/illustrator. According to her website she is considered to be one of the foremost female artists of today. I believe she is visiting us from a future that includes much in the way of colored fog. Please visit www.jael.net to see more wonderment.

Lions on the Wind

2007-03-11T12:37:00.000-05:00

The attitude and position of the lion is available to all yet there is no possibility that the lion will come into your temporal lobe and guide you towards the fruition of faith in man if you will not think of the jumping jack, anti-microbial spray, cost-reduction techniques and neutral pants suits. The lion is yours for free, long live the lion. Please call me if you need more advice. I am available 24-7 to share inspiring notions.

Duccio in the Morning

2007-03-10T08:45:00.000-05:00

Badness is banished from the toy city. Our homes are too small for us to live in but we live in them nonetheless.

Pork Martini? Anyone?

2007-03-06T19:19:00.000-05:00

I infused my vodka with some delicious pork bits. Now I have pork and vodka breath that I will unleash upon everyone I encounter. Delighted and lubricated from the porky liquors I am now contemplating certain things. Is it be important to add more depictive elements to my paintings? How much weight do I really need to lose? How do I make the most of every day? It is best to ask these questions when you are unlikely to do anything about them, that way anything is possible. Both everything and nothing is possible and you delude yourself into thinking this is ok. Please help me be better tomorrow. Thank you. Love, MM

Bronzino: a boy gets to second base with his mom

2007-03-04T16:24:00.000-05:00

An Allegory with Venus and Cupid

On one side is Pleasure and Play; and on the other, Fraud and Jealousy. The old man with wings and an hourglass is Time. The howling figure on the left has been interpreted as Jealousy, Despair and the effects of syphilis. Be careful not to make out with your mother or you will get an STD, is possibly the message of this painting? Anyway, I love it.

Face in a Log

2007-03-03T09:37:00.000-05:00

Hi. This morning this is me due to the persistent overuse of my face by myself and others. We have been scraping at it with rakes for some reason. Petrification is part of the goal. Anyway, this is me saying hi to you and good morning. There is a chance my identification with this face in a log may be due in part to ingestion of certain liquid toxins but I am not positive. It could also just be emotional. I am very emotional.

New Painting

2007-02-27T09:10:00.000-05:00

Morning earthlings. This is the painting I finished for the Pulse art fair. Art Fag City was nice enough to notice it and post an image so I am posting it here. It is called "Clipper" & is 30 x 40 inches.

Today is the day I accomplish everything on earth that ever needed accomplishing by me. I will solve problems and execute tasks willingly and happily. I will.

Wish Me Luck

2007-02-19T09:18:00.000-05:00

Yesterday I drank the salty soda of death and today the alien probe will visualize my lower core insides on a monitor of some kind. I will be abducted by the aliens at approximately 11:30 am so please well-wish me at that time, if you are able to.

Happy Valentine's Day

2007-02-14T09:40:00.000-05:00

It could not be more exciting to be human and be prodded with bladed instruments. Today is the day to celebrate the cartoon format of your main organ. Meanwhile, the freezing rain pelts the windows, making herky jerky percussion that echos the probably senseless thought activity in your head. The slush beckons you to fall in it, bum first. The later ices will bring certain death through foot and mouth. If it pleases you go ahead and rejoice in the heart, but be careful is all I ask.

Just Add a Banana

2007-02-12T09:16:00.000-05:00

Here are some recipes for you From TROPIC TREATS

Cheese-Banana Spread

Cut peeled bananas lengthwise and place on bread slices. Shred or grate American cheese and sprinkle over the bananas and top with another slice of bread. Dip sandwiches in french toast mixture of egg and milk beat together and fry them in butter on griddle.

Puzzle Sandwiches (for the kids)

Mix 1 can deviled ham with 2 ripe bananas mashed and 1 tablespoon salad dressing. Spread 4 slices white bread and 4 slices raisin bread with margarine. Spread white slices with banana-ham mixture and top with raisin bread slices. Cut each sandwich into a variety of shapes and fit all pieces together into a puzzle for serving.

Two Illnesses You Should Be Aware Of

2007-02-09T08:35:00.000-05:00

Trichinosis

Trichinosis, also called trichinellosis, or trichiniasis, is a parasitic disease caused by eating raw or undercooked pork and wild game products infected with the larvae of a species of roundworm Trichinella spiralis, commonly called the trichina worm. The few cases in the United States are mostly the result of eating undercooked game or home reared pigs. It is most common in the developing world and where pigs are commonly fed raw garbage.

Glue Ear or Otitis Media

Otitis media is an inflammation of the middle ear segment of the ear. It is one of the two conditions that are commonly thought of as ear infections, the other being otitis externa. Otitis media is very common, and includes a whole range of medical conditions; all of which involve inflammation of the ear drum (tympanic membrane), and are usually associated with a buildup of fluid in the space behind the ear drum (middle ear space).

The Blacks

2007-02-07T22:01:00.000-05:00

Knife Head

2007-02-07T08:21:00.000-05:00

Just for fun someday there might be a knife or multiple knives that come into your head to wish you happy day. If this should happen just hope that the knife is inserted at just the right angle so death does not ensue. (If death is not something you wish for). You may experience brain damage but this should not be of concern if you are already a moderate drinker, I am supposing. There is a modern kind of flesh spackle that can be used to patch up the hole left by the knife. Expect that hair will not grow back in that particular patch. Good luck!

Paintings of the Sea

2007-02-04T22:01:00.000-05:00

Houses

2007-02-03T09:20:00.000-05:00

Ships in Peril

2007-02-02T19:39:00.000-05:00

They are in peril but the seamanship does not decline, the ships buck and quake on the waves. Herky-jerky is part of it. There are slacks strewn all about the cabins, cold cream smeared on the sheets, bacon bits that fly through the air and hit you in the eye. Yet there is nothing to worry about. That is what is so great about ships in peril.

Bye for now.

Time to Smarten Up

2007-01-15T12:57:00.000-05:00

It is that time again. Time to make the doughnuts. Time to write two syllabi for this coming semester. Time to re-animate thoughts and tone up that flabby lazy ass-brain.

I am teaching a seminar on contemporary art for juniors and a drawing class for seniors wherein I will preach the necessity for utilizing the ass as the generative creative force: draw from your ass, contemplate your ass, pay homage to your ass. Your ass will be there for you through thick and thin. Please replace all other ideas with this one.

A Letter

2007-01-11T13:31:00.000-05:00

Dear Noggin,

Help me for I cannot hold the clamp steady. The clamp holds the metal in place. The metal is formed in the shape of charming yet functionless decoration. The decorative metal is meant to inspire peace. The peace is meant to fill your soul with goodness, yet none of this can occur with the clamp coming loose all the time as it does.

I wish I had you near me to hold the clamp in place!

Accordingly, please try to come over when you can, as I have been standing here for days, trying to hold the clamp steady, but as I've said, the clamp keeps coming loose and now my hands are numb and bloody.

Aside from that, I still need you to come over.

Love,

Crumble

Doug Henning

2007-01-10T08:29:00.000-05:00

Welcome to the world of magic. Where magic is illusion. And illusion can be magical. FB, do you not think this will be your next Halloween costume? Research on Doug Henning will lead you to bucktooth smiles, fanciful whimsy in the form of inspirational quotes and shiny one-piece outfits. Sunbursts, butterflies and puffy clouds.

Please visit www.doughenning.com to witness delights upon delights.

Have a wonderful day.

The Wicker Man

2007-01-07T20:39:00.000-05:00

First things first. This movie is a musical.

A police sergeant flies in a water plane to an island off the west coast of Scotland. He is there to investigate the disappearance of a young girl. The harbour master greets the uniformed stranger, along with several gnarly-toothed turtleneck-wearing goons. The policeman pulls out a picture to ask if they know of her. They all shake their heads no. "No she doesn’t belong to this island." "I don’t know her at all." "Can’t say I know her." "She’s not from here." Giggles.

Later at the Green Man Inn, the sergeant walks through a smoky bar filled shaggy drinkers. The innkeeper and his daughter, Willow, played by a plump-lipped and shapely blonde Scandinavian, agree to give him a room. Quickly the first musical number of the movie ensues - a lecherous song about Willow and “the parts that lie between her left toe and her right toe.”

Our Sergeant Howie is very serious and systematic, a problem-solver. He does not trust the islanders…but why? It is soon revealed that they are hedonistic pagans who believe in reincarnation and like to play dress up, tough for a Catholic virgin to swallow.

One of the best scenes in any movie ever begins with the sergeant kneeling at his bed in the inn, praying. Willow apparently sleeps next door. That night she tries to seduce him, to lure him to her through song and dance. There are no words to describe this scene. Let it be said that shadows are important, sculptures are touched, man-sweat is induced, and the fine lass’s ass is self-slapped. This is one of the most important scenes in cinema. You must trust me on this.

Post haste we are transported to the next musical number. A man that looks like your 7th grade geography teacher/ boys' rhythmic gymnastic coach sings of transmutation and sexual union – for him song is not just words, it is also charade-like hand gestures. This is another catchy tune, a tune you'll not soon forget.

Slowly the sargeant starts to understand the sinister depths of blaspheming and sin rampant on the island. In his disgust and suspicion he thinks he is putting together the pieces of a murder mystery…..but there is a twist of course. Also there is Christopher Lee in drag, there are naked girls who leap over an open flame amidst a faux Stonehenge, hoping for parthenogenesis. (Here I am thinking of a dangerous kind of douche commercial.) Just trust me. Please see this movie. Please.

Long may the Wicker Man burn.

Why?

2006-12-28T08:24:00.000-05:00

This is the question I ask of existence for which I hear no answer ever. New hobbies I am considering

1. Candy
2. Born-again Christianity
3. Helter Skelter
4. Taxidermy of Diseased Mutton
5. Firewalking
6. Nail-cutting
7. Staring
8. Pointillism
9. Scrapping of All Hobbies
10. Vaccination of Herky Jerky Types

Just got back from Pittsburgh last night. Parents arrive in NY at 1 something this afternoon. I am in need of recovery.

Troublemakers Part II: The Emergency Easter Portrait

2006-12-22T07:58:00.000-05:00

1.18.05

Dear Frances Dancer,

I just witnessed the fascinating and artistic website of yourself and your family. I can't believe that you all paint portraits and you are all related. What skills and what luck are present in the Dancer family. In any event, I am a mother of 5 beautiful children, ranging in age from 2 to 17. I live on the eastern shore of Maryland and am interested in having a group Easter portrait of my children painted soon. I have made matching bunny outfits for all the children. Some of the outfits have real rabbit fur that I hand dye. Like your family, I appreciate craft.

Frances, I love your paintings and the way you describe your process. I like how you see the potential in the little people we call children. Also you look like a nice person. I would be kidding myself if I said that you were not the best of the Dancer clan. You are. Your work is charming and awkward and lacks some of the skill evident in your other family members work. But you are all so interesting. That doesn't mean I don't love it.

Excuse my candor but what would you charge for an emergency group portrait as Easter is coming shortly and I need it for a family reunion and feast? I am so exciting!!

Please get back to me right away. I am happy to send a deposit to get you started. I assume that this project
will be as enticing for you as it is exciting for me!!

Sincerely,

Doris Kelpie

1.18.05

PS -

I hope I am not bothering you, Francer. As this is urgent and of a timely nature, I am hoping to hear from you with a quote soon. Very soon. Sorry. I need this portrait! I am greatly interested in your portraits so I hope it's you that paints my painting.

Cheers,

Doris

1.26.05

Dear Doris,

Thank you for your interest in my work. I apologize that it had taken me this long to return your email. Our website is fairly new and I had problems retrieving my email. I think the best thing for us to do is to talk on the phone and for me to drive out to your house to see where you want the painting to be hung. The size of the painting is going to determine my price. For instance if it were 5 figures life size and full length it would be 5x10,000. However, under life size will reduce the price. The more figures in the painting, the more complicated it is too achieve a good flow in the composition. I could definitely get this done by Easter permitting we agree on price and size soon. If you are interested in getting this done call me on my cell at 410 320 5898. I could possibly come to your house this weekend. I look forward to hearing from you.

Sincerely,

Frances Dancer

2.01.05

Dear Frances,

Thank you for your kind attentions to this formerly pressing matter. However my husband has insisted he does not wish to see a painting of our 5 rambunctious children, he says he sees enough of them in reality, why have to look at them in a picture too. I hereby withdraw my request for the emergency easter portrait. I promise to contact you in the future for this task, should he come to his senses.

Fondly,

Doris

Troublemakers: a Series of Correspondences, Part I

2006-12-20T09:52:00.000-05:00

1.17.2005

Dear John Crevelle,

I think it's you but I'm not sure. You are the artist, right? Who paints realistically and used to live in Philadelphia? I have a memory of your paintings but I can't remember them exactly or where I saw them. I know it was Philadelphia. Are you still at it? I hope so. If there is any place to view your art on the internet, will you let me know? I still live in Philadelphia. I am an Art Lover. I made a list of people who's work I liked a long time ago and recently found it again and now I am trying to track you all down due to the fact that I have some disposable income. My grandmother died and left me a great deal of cash. This is an exciting time for me, I can only hope it is exciting for you too. It's great to get older and have success and support the things you believe in. Consider this a magical gift from the great beyond. I never had kids and am now realizing it
is because I need to support the arts. My husband agrees with me on that note. (haha)

Are you teaching? I used to teach business at La Salle University. I don't teach now. I couldn't take the stress.

I hope to see your work again soon. I like realistic style painting the best. I never met you I don't think. Unless you are the one with brown hair. Are you? Please
clarify.

Yours truly,

Doris Kelpie

1.17.2005

Dear Doris,

Well, you got me. I'm the realistic painter. I still paint and teach. I'm not sure how we knew each other though. I went to the Pennsylvania Acadamy of the Fine Arts, maybe that had something to do with it.

Glad to hear your doing well. I do miss Philadelphia, I'm in NYC now.

John

1.18.2005

Dear John,

How wonderful to hear from you right away like that!!! Now i remember that I met you at an academy event. Years have passed since that time. Are you still attractive? People tell me that I am attractive. No grey hairs yet. Thank goodness, right? Please say we can do a studio visit. As I mentioned earlier, I want to purchase art.

Thank you for your eagerness.

Best,

Doris

1.18.2005

Doris,

I still can't place you. Perhaps if you email me a picture of yourself
it will jog my memory.

John

2.2.2005

Doris,

I haven't heard from you in awhile. Are you still out there?

John

3.28.05

Dear John,

HI AFTER SO LONG!!!!!! I am so sorry I have not been in touch with you. You won't believe what happened. However it's a long story and I don't want to bore you. Needless to say, I have been thinking of you during this absurd trial. How are your students? How do you do?

I do good. I broke it off with my husband for real. He is a pilot and our schedules didn't jive. I am very open it seems. I really want to be open to you, but I am shy. I'm afraid to send my picture. My friend took it after a few whiskeys and it's a tad dirty. I find it hard to stay off the sauce!! :) But listen I want to commune with you. Have you ever heard of the hop scotch contortion? If not I will teach you. Won't it be funny for you to be the student!!

Love,

Doris

3.28.05

Doris,

It sounds like your going through a difficult a time in your life. I'm
terribly sorry to hear that. I must tell you that I have a girlfriend
who I am very much in love with. We've been together for several years,
living together, and some day I hope she'll make that oh so very precarious
commitment. When you wrote me I thought you were interested in
discussing art. Perhaps you should take some time to heal.

John

12.18.2005

Hi John,

I am wondering if you were ever able to get married. I hope so. You sounded great for each other. How is it at school? The teaching and such. I have been making a
point to see as many art shows as I can. I am waiting for your email alerting me to your next solo show. When will that be?

I hope you are painting and teaching well. Neither endeavor is easy, as you know. Good luck and best to you always.

Kudos,

Doris

12.21.2005

Doris,

I've got to tell you I can't place you from Phila. Unless you can send me a
picture of yourself so I can figure out who I'm emailing, I'm going to have
to ask you to stop emailing me. Sorry.

John

Tristram Hillier

2006-12-19T10:47:00.000-05:00

Pylons, 1933

Hi

2006-12-16T13:28:00.000-05:00

Enter the Hole

2006-12-16T08:21:00.000-05:00

And come out a fresh brand new idealistic moral happy snappy no liquid no gases just solids good idea type of person. Enter the anus of the universe and come out new, I am promising you. You will travel beyond the horrors of the day and night. Consider it like a cult that you can join. Please join me in attempting to cut off the bunions of reality and improve yourself into better versions. You can say you're sorry for your mistakes but that won't change them. You look in the mirror and you're still you. The newness comes from magic. The magic of the anus in the sky. Come there now with me. There is a pack and matching saber available to assist you in your journey.

Quote of the Day

2006-12-13T08:56:00.000-05:00

You wake up, and you feel molested. In fact: the hideous thing. You open your chest of drawers: a further molestation. Washing and dressing are molestations. Having to get dressed! Having to eat breakfast! When you go out on the street, you are subject to the gravest possible molestations. You are unable to shield yourself. You lay about yourself, but it’s no use. The blows you dole out are returned a hundredfold. What are streets, anyway? Wendings of molestation, up and down. Squares? Bundled together molestations.

– Thomas Bernhard, from Frost

This guy cracks me up.

Otto Dix

2006-12-12T08:59:00.001-05:00

Today as I was walking from the bedroom to the bathroom I wished someone would make caverns and holes in my face and swell it, pinken it like in an Otto Dix painting. If I had my way I'd be the guy on the left. I know it's wrong. I just want to see what it would be like to have a hose coming out of the hole where my ear once was. Head shaved, stubble growing in patches like an unwatered lawn. Red and toothy, all puffy-like. I'd play cards with my foot too. I'd yuck it up in the dark with booze. It is like a vacuum sucking at your face and head in order to reveal your true character.

Anyway. Glitter and Doom: German Portraits from the 1920's at the Met, up until February 19 is an amazing show. Just saying.

Hey Hi +

2006-10-19T08:11:00.000-05:00

Hi. Here is what has happened. My sausage has fallen out the window, the blackened areas gangrened fully and rotted off me so I am more healthy in a way and more in tune with words. There is a show up of work of MM's at Kevin Bruk Gallery in Miami. I am awaiting images to post here. There will be a group trek to Miami this weekend to see the show and wander about the beachy regions and get wrecked. I have high hopes to spend most of the time under an XXL beach cover-up with Mrs. Cub. What will happen underneath this cover is up to your imagination or if you want to pay us $5 perhaps we will show you. Let it be known that there are unwanted hairs that have not been removed as of right now. I will keep you informed of any changes in hair presence and/or appearance.

Forthcoming will be posts on two artists I recently discovered at the Tate Modern in London.

It is trying to come back. Frogs has politely asked to have his venue reinvigorated. I cannot say no to Frogs.

The Micronation of Dubz

2006-09-27T06:52:00.000-05:00

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

2006-09-15T11:37:00.000-05:00

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

2006-09-01T08:08:00.000-05:00

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.

Mucky Bloody Face Day

2006-08-31T08:23:00.000-05:00

I fashioned a mask for myself in the night and this is it. Please enjoy my new look and if you desire to kiss me put your tongue through the eyeholes. UF leaves tomorrow for a whole month. Sniff. Me sad. So. Who wants to go out and get wrecked with me tomorrow night? I mean really really awfully badly wrecked, like worse than this mask.

Here's to you UF

2006-08-30T09:54:00.000-05:00

Happy Birthday, son.

Garbled Voices

2006-08-28T19:45:00.000-05:00

Garbled voices are speaking to me. I am trying to draw the black oily ether from which caverns and flora grow but it is hard, my gut is distracting me, it droops to the floor and causes my face to get lowered to the drawing, wherein the drool puddles form on the nice fine black lines. But anyway. It adds atmosphere.

So. I am happy to read Reverend Jen on Artnet. I'll take her over Charlie Finch any day. I like her pink leotard, if only I had the gumption to wear one "on the ground" but happily for you I have no such gumption.

I am in need of narcotix. Anyone who has them please send them. I will do almost anything.

I am drawing and pretending I am in the caverns, shadowy and blackened like the catfishes.

Anything is Something for Me

2006-08-27T20:00:00.000-05:00

Well my computer is broke and I am stored up in a shack with whores from here until who knows when. The good part is that the whores know how to please me.

I am interested in becoming a part of reality again. I am one with the accursed share for now but I anticipate becoming more friendly in the cyber acres very soon. Here's to a large swollen tum filled with the inner beast.

I am ready to find myself in belief in no heaven.

Post 600

2006-08-07T11:22:00.000-05:00

Yes that's right, this makes the 600th post of contentless ramblings from the man of the mountains.

The bees of jealousy are currently swarming through my fetid carcass. I am without my blogger soulmates, missing them desperately. However, the santori times continue in the gatorade green wilds of NE Pennsylvania. County Fair time is coming soon. This year I hope to be able to witness the baby judging contest first hand, not to mention document the prize-winning artworks that will be on display, and the stale melty theme cakes.

In other news, we have found a store called "Quails R Us." This comes in second as my favorite store name after "Arts for Him".

Last week I met an ornery old French man who used to be a fisherman and chef in the Carribbean. He was a motherlode of information on cooking, gardening, hunting, gathering, etc. He has instilled in me a desire to become a true pioneer - I want to learn how to identify mushrooms, make my own yeast for breads, grow every vegetable on earth, fish, can. No hunting though. None of the gun business. (Unless it's a tranquilizer gun that I can use upon myself.) We actually fished out of our pond one evening last week. I have never held a rod before in my life but I got lucky because in the first 5 minutes I caught a fish and somehow got him onto the grass. He was flopping all around, trying to breathe - UF picked him up and showed him to me and I made him throw it back in the water. The labored breathing from this little guy was too much for me. I immediately regretted this decision because neither one of us were able to catch anything after that - we were only able to get two more fish to bite the grody night crawler on the hook (we keep them in the fridge, near the mustard, yum), get the hook into their mouths, dangle them spastically on the rod, but then they escaped. I am now fearful that two angry ghost fish with hooked mouths that will haunt the pond and bite off my limbs.

My gut continues to bulge due to overconsumption of foodstuffs. Painting is somewhat ok. Somewhat. Slow. Whatever. Me trying. We went to Border's bookstore in Scranton the other day. That was our first cultural experience all summer. I am reading MFK Fisher's The Art of Eating. Highly recommend for anyone who likes to cook and eat. PD, it's so for you. ohohoh and one more thing, Lars Von Trier's The Kingdom - UNBELIEVABLE. My brother Bobo gave it to me last Xmas. It is a TV series he did in 1994. Takes place in a haunted hospital in Denmark. Ghosts and seers and an evil Swedish doctor. It is beautiful, creepy and very funny. To me at least.

Ok. Sorry for the long post but it's been a while so.......hi. Bye. I love you.

Comus "The Prisoner"

2006-07-24T07:24:00.000-05:00

The magickal dance rituals were enacted on the fecund wet lawn of mental illness. Here are the lyrics to the anthem:

THE PRISONER

I was mad and was accepted for treatment at a hospital for the mentally sick
I was wild and introvert wandering alone in the night
I would scream and rage should someone disturb my peace
So they took me away and they put me here alone in my silent privacy
Then they gave me shock treatment
And when I awoke I was numb and remembering nothing
Probe me mold me reassemble my brain my brain
Schizoid paranoid just terms just names just names
Why can't you leave me don't drive me insane
Your minds analyze me, your eyes penetrate me
Illusions, confusions, I'm frightened, I'm helpless
Please leave me I long to be free
I long to be free
I lie alone unable to remember
No face no name no eyes my brain just an ember
Kindle me protect my barren matter
Whose seeds may propagate yet still may shatter
They have emptied my head of its dreaming
Like paper out of a waste bin
And I yearn to be yearn to be yearn to be yearn to be free

Cold is the climate dark is the atomic night
Searching and hoping guarding my mind from your sight
Your evil eyes watch me your evil hands touch me they're cold
I can stand prison but even my conscious you hold
Let me be
Set me free
Yea

Oh...

Probe me mould me reassemble my brain my brain
Schizoid paranoid just terms just names just names
Why can't you leave me don't drive me insane insane insane insane insane....

Mormons

2006-07-19T08:01:00.000-05:00

Yesterday as I was lying down for a spell in the coarse grass towards the back of our house which is actually the front (but let me say many many steps down a path away from our dirt road), the Mormons came upon me. I was in possession of bottoms and no top as I lay sunning, bleaching my chest hair and bronzing my manly cheez nips.

First I spied the telltale shiny van trundling up the road. Not many cars come up our road and most of them are dirty pick-ups with grisly types at the wheel. I hurried inside to put on my overalls, the ones with the beer cup holders at the hips. I walked out the front door and who do I see trespassing down our path but two Sunday-best-wearing Mormons. In the heat, the young man wore trousers and a long sleeved shirt and tie and young woman wore a high-necked blouse and skirt down to the ground.

He said "Are you worried about the wars going on in the world?" Holding his Bible out in front of him. "Do you think it's possible that there will be a time when the wars end?" I said no. No I don't think so. But please have a very nice day. I smiled very sincerely. I wanted him to see that heathens can wish you a good day too. I also wanted to tell him that I was an atheist and I hate Christianity but then I might have actually had to talk to them for a while. No good on that. The cheez nips may have been visible through the overalls which was already creating a sinful, shameful vulnerability on the homestead. MM nervous. Go away Mormons. Next time I will have a super-soaker if you walk onto my land again. I am going to join the NWRA (national water-rifle association).

Studio Soundtrack a.k.a. Lifesaver

2006-07-11T21:31:00.000-05:00

Re-immersion in relic-production is painfully not easy after the show happens and ends in a way that is less than thrilling. You probably know that already. Questioning of self occurs. Remembering of comments on Painter NYC occurs, not unlike the grad school voices that take years to exorcise. But whatever the show was a good thing and you are happy you had it, it's just that you try to make paintings again and it seems ridiculous, pointless, horridly self-indulgent. Then you remember people like PD who keep going no matter what and you get a nice email from a friend who causes you to feel you have been seen for a split second - you remember that the whole point of this endeavor is not to make money or to get public recognition or to be "successful" in all the ways we have been taught to - it is really ultimately about the deep need to make work for yourself and also a sense of community. So. You make it because you have to and because there are some wonderful people out there who understand you. That is what matters. I am back on track in the studio after months of retardation. Partially it's because of my darling pals who inspire me every day. I love you. And partially it's because I would probably be a criminal if I didn't. The other part is because of the following songs that I am back in the shack. I highly recommend them. Dork quotient is high. Here is MM's Top 40.

1. Comus: The Prisoner
2. Faust: Track 25
3. Bauhaus: Bela Lugosi's Dead
4. Throbbing Gristle: Hot on the Heels of Love
5. Impala Syndrome: Too Much Time
6. Led Zeppelin: In My Time of Dying
7. The Politicians: Everything Good is Bad
8. Fela Kuti: IGBE
9. Joe Jackson: Steppin Out
10. Soundgarden: Burden in My Hand
11. Outhud: The L Train is a Swell Train
12. Scissor Sisters: Comfortably Numb
13. Destroyer: Hey Snow White
14. Ali Farka Toure and Ry Cooder: Bonde
15. The Futureheads: Hounds of Love
16. Depeche Mode: Never Let Me Down Again
17. Blonde Redhead: In Particular
18. Toots and the Maytals: Sweet and Dandy
19. Neneh Cherry: Buffalo Stance
20. Dungen: Panda
21. Mya: Ghetto Superstar
22. David Bowie: Starman
23. A Passing Fancy: You're Going Out of Your Mind
24. Amon Tobin: Nova
25. George Michael vs. Missy Elliot (Radio Soulwax): Get Your Faith On
26. Sean Paul: Get Busy
27. Destiny's Child: Bootylicious
28. Beat Happening: I Let Him Get To Me
29. Spoon: Track 20 from A Series of Sneaks
30. Gnarls Barkley: Crazy
31. Holger Czukay: Cool in the Pool
32. Nick Lowe: Cruel To Be Kind
33. Alison Krauss and Union Station: Every Time You Say Goodbye
34. NWA: Fuck the Police
35. Sweet: Fox on the Run
36. Toots and the Maytals: Sweet and Dandy
37. Joni Mitchell: Don't Interrupt the Sorrow
38. Wolf Parade: Grounds for a Divorce
39. Fun Boy 3 and Bananarama: It Ain't What You Do
40: Genesis: Follow You Follow Me

Zucchini Blossoms

2006-07-06T08:37:00.000-05:00

The blossoms are coming like mad and six plants are spreading everywhere. We will have zucchini until the end of time. PD, I am wondering, there are many blossoms on the plants right now. If I pick them will more come? For some reason I am not wanting to disturb them, they are so cute. The zucchinis are tiny right now, it's not quite time to pick... In other news, the lettuce is slutty and wanted to be spread all over. The weeds are insane and there are little snakes and frogs that sit with me in the garden. It's super cute. It would be easy to stop doing everything and just garden.

Last night I started some paintings that have the feeling of real paintings, not just fake practice paintings but real ones. I think I was channeling Dubz as I got way into the schmearing. The chum-hurling. We see if it stays. Art is weird. I am channeling the Romance of a bygone era. Why. I don't know.

An ABZ of Love

2006-07-04T12:42:00.000-05:00

This is the title of a Danish dictionary of sexuality from 1962. Random terminology is “defined” and “explained.” If you are in a relationship this book is sure to be of assistance. For example, here are some helpful excerpts:

Approach: There are many forms of sexual approach. (See also Petting). Here we are thinking especially of the husband who casually strokes his wife’s cheek, breast, backside or even more intimate parts and she hisses “Leave me alone!” and other, even more discouraging things….women require a slightly more methodical, regular and tangible kind of erotic stimulation in order to let themselves be carried away – a woman is a little more sluggish.

Bag, Scrotal: The scrotum. (See Genital Organs, Male).

Bed: The most important item of furniture in a home. Not many people realize this….A bed is to a very high degree a lovely thing too. The same thing applies to beds as to sexual relationships, namely that the human mind has created some pretty ingenious things. And there is no reason why we should believe that the authorized forms are the best – whether as far as beds or sexual relationships are concerned. Many beds are very badly constructed. Many people should experiment a little more with their beds as well as their sex lives.

Breast, Mammary Glands: Women, as we all know, have breasts, and these contain mammary glands. The breasts terminate in points called nipples. A ‘normal’ breast is rather difficult to define – but let us put it this way: when a woman stands up, the fully-developed breast is not shaped like half a lemon.

Defeat: Fiascos and defeats occur in all people’s lives. But there is a special kind of defeat that is connected with sex life, namely the defeat that many women feel when they are sexually satisfied, i.e. when they have an orgasm. Many women refuse to give their husbands the triumph.

Exhibitionism: Many grown-ups receive a bad fright if they meet an exhibitionist. The sight of one may look a little frightening, but to the best of our knowledge there has never been any instance of an exhibitionist who also attacked the person or persons to whom he bared himself. So apart from the visual shock he is a fairly harmless fellow. (See also Understanding and Peeping Tom).

Fetish: Something or other said to be imbued with mystical powers.

Well I hope you have learned something, I know I have.

Flooding Waters

2006-06-29T08:13:00.000-05:00

Wow, I just read that NE Pennsylvania, right in our area, is under water. Many roads closed and some houses near the Delaware River have floated away. People evacuated. Tomorrow we are supposed to leave for the house in the woods. Everything is swollen and the Delaware is supposed to crest today at 33 feet - flood level is 17 feet. Hmmm. Interesting. We see. We hope our house is ok.

Spreading the Good News

2006-06-23T09:18:00.000-05:00

The good news is being spread all over town through the ass horn that was made especially for telling about Jesus on the roadways and sidewalks of life. Jesus is a pixie. Jesus stands for carefree notions. Jesus endorses inappropriate statements blurted out at important social events. Jesus told me it's ok to put maxi pads on the shirts of large men. He told me I can say I am pregnant with dead babies to unsuspecting listeners. Jesus, what else can you tell us through the ass horn?

No Sleep

2006-06-22T03:01:00.000-05:00

Dear Sleep,

I miss you. I used to be so good at you but now it seems we have grown apart. Please come back sometime. If not now then very soon. I will give you whatever you ask for. Cash dollars even, a blood sacrifice maybe. Until then, I will lie awake thinking of lettuce.

Love,

MM

Fry it up

2006-06-16T08:31:00.000-05:00

The frier on the sea will provide us with a woozy sanctuary away from all the ills of the world. We are the gum on the shoe of capitalism. Success can be found only at the bottom of the beer cup.

Twists

2006-06-15T07:43:00.001-05:00

There are so many different kinds of twists. Here I am speaking not of twists and turns, but simply twisting on its own, repetitive twists that add up to an experience, whether candy, trees, a building or jubilance. There are presumptions that get in the way of the twisting - incorrect computations that defer its matched, measured bending and wrap-around action. I cannot help it, neither can you. Next time fortitude will create stripes that make infinite twisting possible, it is an experiment.
Even the stools may twist under the right kind of pressures.

New Outift

2006-06-12T08:41:00.001-05:00

Vests which I plan to wear on alternating days (I will wear nothing underneath - try to calm down):

These party-style pants (FB I got you a pair in lavendar):

Tap shoes:

This necklace:

This hat:

These earrings:

Well, that's the end of my new outfit which I plan to wear frequently, especially to Chelsea on warm days. I am self-helping myself to learn tap dancing as part of the requirement of this look. I am already at level 3.

Blanking

2006-06-09T09:27:00.000-05:00

A systematic blanking is pursuant to the agreement that was made before I was born, an agreement that was signed and notarized by superpowers I have never communed with once. The future is nil but part of this consignment form. The blanking is coming and I am letting it for now. The expectations are gurgling and rippling, but it is mostly even.

United in Love

2006-06-06T21:38:00.000-05:00

I have found true uniting in the bold colors of uniforms and lyrical dance. The grace is fiery, we are one in the radiation of our gonads. Our smiles stretch like taffy on the linoleum floor. Our hopes are visible in the cuffs and crowns we don as part of the ritual. I love you, you love me, it is time for sexual glory, no?

Ray Seepage

2006-06-03T10:01:00.000-05:00

Sunlight is coming like anaesthetic on the thorny ridge of the brain. Happy Saturday precious items.

Buckles Fix Everything

2006-06-02T09:30:00.000-05:00

There is something about a buckle that brings hope to my inner eyes. I don't know what it is, whether it's the way one thing pokes into the other thing or how you can tighten them...I am not clear on this part. Basically I am in receipt of brain damage and I am not concerned even though others around me may be. The stains on the t-shirt remain. The pudge seeps over the top of the pants and this is how it is, it is meditative. I am going to have a show in Miami, is what I found out. This may be better than the buckles, I am not sure. Excitement looms in the pants-region.

Crumpled: A Tale of Yuck

2006-05-31T09:12:00.000-05:00

This is how I feel today. Yesterday I moved my studio to a temporary space in Williamsburg. It is ok but in someone's apartment which I will have to get used to. I miss my old space, it really was too good to be true. Here is an unpleasant story: my landlady (psychotic) was renting from the building owners and about 20 or more people were renting from her. She had sued the building a while back saying she had neurological damage from a kiln in someone's space. Tests were done - there was no toxic anything, she was just trying to get money. The building couldn't stand her anymore and initiated eviction proceedings. Basically she knew she was going to have to be out along with all her tenants back in February. The building stopped accepting her rent checks. HOWEVER she kept collecting rent from us, her tenants, without telling us until a month beforehand that we had to be out. I did not pay May rent, but I believe she owes me $1700 and I want it. Now.

But wait, listen, there is more. Monday night I was packing up my space, preparing to move out today, the last day of the month. She barged in without knocking, scared the crap out of me and told me I had to be out yesterday morning because she was going to call a locksmith and change the locks. I was not prepared, no truck, not finished wrapping up, etc. She would not tell me when she would be changing the locks, just no, not Wednesday, you have to leave tomorrow or else. She was shaking like a freak the whole time. Then I heard her outside yelling at my next door neighbors for not taking her art supplies that she left for them. Next thing I knew I was walking out of my bathroom to find 2 policemen in my space. I was totally freaked out. She was there saying that there had been an intruder somewhere on the floor. I had no clue what she was talking about. Apparently she had gotten scared by one of the guys helping to move someone out because she did not recognize him. So she called the police?? Three cop cars came. For nothing. They left right away but I have to tell you it was incredibly bizarre to have police surprise you for absolutely no reason. Fun.

Anyway. Yesterday was an intense high speed move into the new space. I have never moved so much so fast. But it's done!!!

I hope that now I will get some of my blog mojo back. Maybe it's having a show up, having to move, etc., but I need to get my inspiration back. The trances must return to the brain stem. I am crumpled like paper but ready to move forward.

Attention: Treasure Trove

2006-05-27T09:08:00.000-05:00

The time is now for the Christian T-Shirt. I am ready.

Or, for that special lady in your life:

I am a Zoo

2006-05-23T08:49:00.000-05:00

There are many animals in my head and gut that tremble in the rains and create manure for the gardens of the future. We are all zooming around the pens together, mating and defecating, licking the furs or feathers, pecking, gnawing and blowing bubbles, depending on whatever. Sometimes the pens are watery, sometimes sandy, sometimes in possession of lovely fake rock piles made of papier mache. The penguins have turned their backs to the visitors, it is fun to ignore them, especially while they are licking sweets and crunching salties. I better get back to my zoo.

Fresh Steps Towards Less

2006-05-19T08:01:00.000-05:00

Hi everyone. I am asking for mercy in the form of a painless euthanasia. Think of ways to murder me without consequence and I will plan a funeral party that you will not soon forget. I can entice you with green bean casserole and plenty of gummy worms, moist beer and well-iced cups of cake. I am no longer interested in life, there has been an ebbing, a dip if you will in my desire to bring productions to the earth. This is not meant to be melodramatic and no one should worry. Please leave fun, creative ideas for dying in my comments section. I will see you sometime later in the lessness of everything. Farewell!!!!

Partnering and Buckets

2006-05-16T10:51:00.000-05:00

My eyes keep closing to reveal the strangest scenarios, here's one - like wooden buckets rimmed with strands of green hairlike algae. These buckets come down an assembly line on a conveyor belt. They are used for something, but I am not sure what. There are people who are angry with me for not knowing what the buckets do after they've reached the end of the conveyor belt. I just don't know. Do the authorities now come to sieze these naughty buckets? Are they ruffians, these buckets? I am being asked about their qualities, their intentions, their liquid possessions. No matter how close I look, I can't tell what their purpose is. And yet, here are ready buckets, coated in the finest emerald green algae. There is a glut of useless buckets in the factory. Everyone seems dazed.

In the meantime, I am thinking of studying nude yoga. I have found something exciting that I would like to share it with you:

Contortion

2006-05-11T08:10:00.000-05:00

I would like to rest in this position today. The brain will succumb to the hand smush on back in order to calm itself. I will drink sody pop and the bubbles will confirm my findings. See you later!

Swamp-Ridden

2006-05-09T07:50:00.000-05:00

Hi from the swamp. The swamp asks for your forgiveness and understanding in the form of yes's.

A Refreshing Drink

2006-05-06T14:52:00.000-05:00

The show is hung and lit and open a few days early. In celebration I have decided to pour myself some clear carbonated sweetened delight. Oh did I fail to mention my arm got sawed off by some bandits but they politely replaced it with this bionic dinker. Do you think I look old?

Done Done

2006-05-04T09:17:00.000-05:00

I cannot believe it is true but it is. The paintings left the studio this morning, I was there in the wee hours and then the early hours and then finally they exited. I could not be more pleased and relieved. There has been only one sacrifice in this unholy endeavor and that is my voice. I sound like I imagine Frogs should, I am in possession of laryngitis. You would not think that painting would lead to voice capacity reduction but think again - this is a warning for all you who are considering switching careers. Speaking of switching careers, Corny has an excellent list of alternatives for those of us who are wanting to switch out of the unwholesome bipolar career of fine arts. Here is my list:

1. Tail Grower
2. Device Holder
3. Food Weigher
4. Penis Trafficker
5. Swimming Pool

Naughty Bruiser

2006-05-03T00:02:00.000-05:00

Do you think he shaved himself or was it perpetrated upon him? He is fierce in his sitting stance, he is ready to become more fleshly, to commune with me or you. Hi shaved kitty, you look very strange today.

Jello Replacement

2006-04-29T09:38:00.000-05:00

Here are some things that can happen with jello:

My rainbow jello cake disappeared from yesterday. Melancholy ensues.

Supernova, Jello, Bats and a Puddle

2006-04-28T07:01:00.000-05:00

Morning greetings. It is pre-verbal today.

Overgrown Undergrowth

2006-04-27T14:13:00.000-05:00

The brain cavity is creeping with vines and branches. It is attempting to orient outward but it keeps curling back on itself. The new theory is to accept it, to allow the bunching and not attempt to tame.

Final painting, I am talking to you. You can do it, you can finish. Become agreeable to my paws and bristles.

Corny I am still hoping you hire a witch to exorcise the spell of the infernal relics. I am hoping the elixir blackout comes right after without too much organ damage.

Xtra Long Hair

2006-04-25T21:43:00.000-05:00

Doesn't it seem fun? I am seriously considering the freeing lengths, the sultry wavy locks. I have bought the pumps, the long sleeved number, the smile. The semester has ended, I am free to finish the relics. My smile is as broad as an anal probe is long.

Time Out

2006-04-20T07:32:00.000-05:00

I will be taking some time off the blogging in the next little while - finishing paintings, getting my rocks into piles. There is much to be done. Then I will return with more zeal and freshness. The goo-bots are arming themselves in order to assist me.

Eyes and Ears

2006-04-16T16:34:00.000-05:00

Will someone please be my eyes and ears? I am blind and deaf, I can sense only with the burning swirly tips of finger. I hardly know a thing anymore. There are tornadoes of synaptic motion outside my window, mixed in with the sunlight. I can't believe how much time has passed. I am meditating on the doodle of cheez and how it curls like a smile.

Shadow Puppets

2006-04-15T01:48:00.000-05:00

With fangs and scales, and tongues protruding, we assume the confrontational stance. It is time for the reconciliation of truth or at least bombastic meta-harmonies. I am willing to in spite of apparent malformations. The ratio relationship of the pulverized self to the desire for wanton melding precludes the ability to immerse fully in the other. I am able mostly to intuit either dread or ecstasy. The puppets play out an inconsistent drama. The silhouettes are the hiding place.

August Strindberg

2006-04-14T06:39:00.000-05:00

‘I am everywhere, in the ocean which is my blood, in the hills which are my bones’

-August Strindberg

Strindberg was a painter and experimental photographer, as well as a writer...I didn't know about all this until I was tipped off by my pal DS. Thanks!

Check out this excellent article by Barry Schwabsky:

http://www.findarticles.com/p/articles/mi_m1248/is_4_90/ai_84669344

Quotes from the article:

"the very fact that [Strindberg] was self-taught, that he was an amateur, seems to have freed him from all sorts of preconceptions about what a picture should be."

"[There is an] analogy between the materiality of paint and the physical sensation of place..."

"[He wanted to] imitate nature in an approximate way, imitate in particular nature's way of creating." To this end--well before the birth of John Cage or the Surrealists' proclamation of the doctrine of psychic automatism, and three years before Stephane Mallarmes publication of "Un Coup de des" began to edge the theme of chance toward the heart of European esthetics--Strindberg advocated the use of chance methods in artistic creation as a way of realizing a work in which "the whole reveals itself as a wonderful mixture of the conscious and unconscious."

"Strindberg's art was driven by the desire for an unmediated vision, a continuity between thought and matter."

"It can be argued that this is simply the fundamental desire at the heart of all painting: the desire to breathe life into mere colored mud, and for inanimate matter to become transparent to thought."

Chicken Parts or Parts of the Chicken

2006-04-12T15:24:00.000-05:00

I hereto have come to believe that it is chicken that binds us together and transcends gender, race, religion, posture, etc. I am you in the chicken wing, you are me in the slimy off-pink breast area. We are joined in unanimous votes in favor of the oppressor. We are bound and gagged in the gut punch of human sensibility. Fortitude is lacking in certain regions; purposeful consumption is not. We must emit gutteral monosylllables and stretch the limbs outward towards assembly with our fellow earthworms.

There is still much work to do on relic #3, an important relic that comprises pink bubbles, mossy ground cover and gesture trunks. All is not well in this relic, it is an awkward inconsistent scene that must be punished into excitement. The goal for the next 4 days is transformation. The raw chicken is my beacon.

Chump By the Sea

2006-04-11T21:24:00.000-05:00

This is the alternate version of myself, a water-dwelling scum-sucker that took my pants, even though it's not me. Fishy saggy sac has stolen me pantaloons.

Night night.

Greetings Ether Artists

2006-04-10T17:22:00.000-05:00

Circle of Dogs

2006-04-06T20:52:00.000-05:00

The dogs are choreographed to slumber in a circle. They foretell of soothe, of glisten, of no taxation. There are Snickers bars and pox under the grasses. Your forebearance is coming in the form of a lisp.

Doktor Wyrd

2006-04-05T07:04:00.000-05:00

I am sending out a distress call to Doktor Wyrd, will you please swoop in and save me? There are many issues:

1. My boat is sinking.
2. My torso is full of pains.
3. I am considering garden hosing myself.
4. I am being kicked out of my shack right after my show opens.
5. I am disassociating.
6. There are swellings on the inside of my gut. My gut is connected to my brain and as we all know that is pretty much fucked, so there are two sites of error, two vile sites of error.
7. Krakow's liver is necrotic.
8. Poodles have taken over my soul. They are fouling everything.

I cannot focus on the tasks at hand, the tasks are not completing themselves. My inner hairstyle is mussed. Please, if you see Doktor Wyrd, tell him about the hose. He will not be happy but he will know what to do.

Art as Index (the fruits of our labor...thanks!!!)

2006-04-03T17:18:00.000-05:00

Sending out an SOS

2006-04-03T12:27:00.000-05:00

Hey bloggers, I am in need of help/suggestions about my class topic for tomorrow. I am having trouble finding images on the internet and anything off the top of your smart heads would be appreciated.

I am going to show images & talk about the idea of drawing as index - meaning anything that leaves a trace, an imprint, a spill - so it is not about direct marks, but rather the residue of an action or a gesture, like automatism, or the residue of another object or texture, as in a rubbing or a stamp or a fingerprint, or the residue of another image, like a xerox or xerox transfer. I want to somehow tie this all together, I know these things are not necessarily visually related, but there is a thread that connects them. I want the students to experiment with these techniques in class and then work back into them with direct marks for homework. Does this make sense?

If you have suggestions of artists, that would be great, or if this sounds too vague, I am curious to know any thoughts.

I have images of the following already:

Max Ernst frottage
Henri Michaux frottage
Jackson Pollock drip
Morris Louis spill
Ana Mendieta arm drawings