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Showing posts from 2013

rules are like rules, tey are only mostly some

This is a metric with substance inside a measurable space that we know from our own awful experience. This is not for donor's, adults, or kind shills. Performance isn't a raffle. It's not an evenings dialogue with a lottery ticket. It's not the circumstances that might lead to, BINGO. Instead it is the empty hall with it's tables and doors left dim. It's the morning after we've loved our loves again. It's a golden sweep being guided through a room of many dances where every step is a was. Performance is the last of our first things that makes us strong.

Jeff, Geoffrey, Untitled (Geoffrey) is just fine

A few weeks ago while I was waiting for the elevator at the UIC Medical Center I saw this JK painting on display. There's a real treasure trove of Chicago artist's works throughout the 4th floor of this building. It just happens that JK is a painter that for a brief time lived at 1822 with us. I have a sort of broad stroke recollection that Don Baum helped organize this UIC collection. It made JK exceedingly proud to be included.
JK was living in a street level apartment over on Wood near 17th. We had been meeting to talk about his painting for several weeks. Mostly he got along just fine with his landlord, then one day he didn't. That's when JK asked if he could stay with us. I called KL and asked her for some help moving him out. Some of his things were in boxes. Some of them were in bags. A lot of them were in discrete piles stacked around the room. It took about an hour to load everything into her car. Eventually it arrived at 1822 where we got the bags, boxes, an…

appropriately an ode to cinema

Songs from the Party Couch

Towards a nomenclature of a nomenclature of a spectacle for nostalgia in tight tight spaces, TIGHT TIGHT Jean spaces Under trash Under lights with a mixed tape and some trash and a couch With a wall Made of bricks Like a wall Made of things BRIGHT BRIGHT Jean spaces UNTITLED party places
It's from either, Minimal Spectacle or, White Cube Cubed. I'm sorry but I can't remember which. Princess Lake in the Process slouches into the sofa a little more. Did you know that I've been peeing in a green tissue box, Mister Deep-In-The-Knees? I've been trying to describe this unique sunburn, they're not antithetical you know, boxes and sunburns. I want the urine for my colorfast catalyst during the experience but it's difficult. Sunburns absolutely refuse being adapted to my process. Then it's all like an earthquake down there right too, I mean.
The chair by the door is black under all of the discarded coats. When the door opens again he sits up and his head bobs wi…