Washington Heights, New York City and Hemet, California
Prayer of New Orleans
I needed to create a piece for the Square Foot Show at Art Gotham and
all i could think about was New Orleans. I collected some images
of New Orleans street people and collaged them on a prepared canvas.
Each night I soaked the whole thing in water and each day dryed it out
and worked on it. When i saw the orange marks on the doors from
a NY Times article I knew the piece was finished
New York City
Sometimes you just have to whirl around and let go.
New York City
Kin 1 & 2
digital photograph and collage
I was in Sonoma County, California visiting my brother and his 2 dogs,
Biff and Bowie. I have one of the best brothers in the world, how did
my parents manage that? Biff [pictured] did not really want to get on
the car [1957 Cadillac Coupe de Ville or not], but would do just about
anything out of love.
My sister and cousin's family and a friend of ours were there for the
cook-out. There were 5 dogs, which helped me realize we have replaced
our parents, aunts and uncles. There I was, swapping recipes with an artist
friend who was wearing a floppy gardening hat, petting the children.
Washington Heights, New York City
Door: Max Protech
On my mind:
so much art
so many galleries
My wife bristles at the word a_t anymore--so many claims and so much nothing
so glad to know so many people who's process and work are not bullshit
yet the sheer quantity and the tenuous link to "value" is still
unsettling me. Do we need one more post-ironic-porn-nation-cosmological-pop
picture? Regardless: it's coming.
I saw so much good visual art and performance this week. Like tall trees
in the bush. Gives art a good name...
adobe illustrator animation
the place where I stay is translucent one. no matter if this is the new
or old. nothing seems to be the same. back&forth&&forth.
all the layers are compressed once. they are just soaked with different
the only wish I have is to stay with the glowing one.
Anchorage, Alaska & Washington Heights, New York City
monoprint, 8" x 16"
My mind is occupied with the thoughts and feelings welling up from the
unfolding disaster on the Gulf coast. I'm moving through all the various
stages of emotions. From a state of disbelief I am now tremendously angry
at the incompetence of the federal government. It is shaming to see what
we've come to, to see the wall of lies constructed over the the last five
years come crashing down so hard and causing so much suffering. There
are consequences for lying but again the wrong people are being made to
Great Barrington, Massachusetts
I make my collages from old materials, books and magazines damaged, forgotten,
and left behind. This one I made from an accumulation of scraps. The process
generated more scraps, of course, which I still can't bring myself to
throw away. I will hold onto them for later, as though I might somehow
suspend the inevitable.
Verona, New Jersey
Dream Four: Mother with Babies
(oil on panel)
~She was in the hospital bed holding the warmth of her new baby boy
against her. She sniffed the musky scent of newborn skin and delighted
in the yielding limbs that curved perfectly against her soft body. There
it was – the pure animal joy of a suckling babe. The woman purred.
Looking down, she suddenly knew that this baby and her husband were one
and the same. In a sudden shift, white-coated doctors quickly strode to
the bedside and took the baby from her. “He’s not breathing,”
one of them said. She knew her baby was dying, and in moments, would be
The woman woke, sobbing. She sat up and looked: there he was, right where
he was supposed to be, sound asleep. She didn’t care how he treated
her; it didn’t matter to her, as long as he was here, right where
he was supposed to be. She felt the urge to rock him the way she had rocked
his sweet baby self in her dream, and to protect him, at all costs. She
wrapped her arms around her sleeping husband, holding him dearly, desperately,
pressing her wet face against his shoulder. He was accustomed to this
woman doing things he did not understand, and didn’t want an explanation,
certainly not in the middle of the night. He half opened one eye and pulling
away from her, turned over and went back to sleep.