28 September 2011

espejo 2

dios mio mio dios. i want this kid to cook for me. i would mayyyyyyyyybe purchase tp and clean dishes and he could cook all the ribs in the fucking world and i would watch b/c this body can't house all of that but his might be able to, and i feel like feeding those you love is probably all that mother lions want to do, lover lions, girlfriend lions, whatever, friend lions...lions. i said it so many times, and i see it so clearly - this planet, held together by two, you roll it, ARE it, around together, one over the other over the other over the other ove the other...i would throw in some greens with that meal, 'cause that's how LP do! mirror mirror in the alley, who's the fairest of them all? not me. dearest nymph from marseille - i'm sorry. some many mays ago i wrote: "on the real (short and sweet) out of respect for females worldwide, all of them wonderful beautiful feeling unique, and deserving of love / trust / honesty (the ones i know at least), i shall step off...and those be the breaks sometimes." seedy was never me - WE the seed. what i thought was never what i could write or say to face; face it. we set you up to succeed, make no mistake about that.

on the moscato tip, though, we good. though my dreams are sometimes ridiculously banal the themes now vary, and every now and again i get a second chance, this time with bullet-point instructions from the more informed females in my life. i find though that even with this 20/20 i still cannot paint the babe as an innocent. we are flawed but our art is not - what a design! absence, absentia, dementia, abstinence: blue eyes abound around here (no disrespect) and i like them (por que BRILLAN) almost as much as i am enjoying all of this bourgeoise photography floating around the interwebs; fucking brilliant. keep it coming, you guys, nice and hard like.

un BESAZO.

BE

SA

ZO.

big ups tracey baran

"today i'm 30" © tracey baran. tracey i tip my glass of moscato your way sweet princess, on a muggy wednesday, and wish it was something finer, like something jay-z would promote. i hope you good. how's that for dust? in or out of the wind?

very important contemporary (f)art ca(r)t blog





MI GATO ES HERMOSO

27 September 2011

poppa + kid (ren fair)

twinsies (not really at all) + hurricane irene black cat


when i am walking and i see a cat about to cross in front of me i hurry up; i'm serious. the other day i wondered if it's just black cats that are supposed to bring bad luck? que tal racistas!!! or if the same superstition applies to white cats, too; not really sure, because the point is that life is getting weirder and i feel like i come across a relatively large amount of street cats (including white ones) and so to them i say "no i don't think so" and scurry around or to the side of them or beat them to our imaginary intersection. there are a lot of things at my cross roads right now; for you, too? see how ms. walters wears this white dress? she does so with black cats at her own feet, so as to avoid all of that.

strangers, strange hands





guhhhhh babe patrol is in full force and has wheels with a tank full'a gas. if you never received a ticket from BP then don't worry about it.

18 September 2011

mr. foo, , Per @ 25 by M. Monteith, suzy/cupid, aliza's show





this week took me backwards a bit, but what's nice to see is that some of this shit/people i thought i'd just be wading through has/have actually stayed with me, and vice versa. those are called good peoples, i think. the rest is hard to let go of; when i actually try, i succeed for 2 seconds and in my chest it feels like fresh oxygen trying to push through, like i was given 3 extra lungs, like a free fall, like how it would feel to be a long distance runner at 90 pounds, light weight, light weight, light weight...i like it, and i realize that the cling is exactly how it's called - dead weight. it's not that serious, like my profe says, it's not that serious. photos are just reminders, that's all. we can look or we can look away.

15 September 2011

ricky n' tater sittin' in a tree (stolen photo)


suuuupliezzzz!!!!

(best gams, class of 2011)

14 September 2011

best boy in the history of best boys (HB, JJ)



14 sept 2011. dearest jj, the story is that some of us are more professional than others, so if you have a well-to-do website featuring adults who cook, don't link here, to where you will see a younger, carefree version of yourself hiding behind nuggets of la yerba buena, ogayyyy papi? the other story is that one night, in early 2000, sarah t. fell asleep after a heavy night of whatever. the young man and myself escorted her home to our dorm where she proceeded to fall asleep on the couch. a rigorous soccer practice preceded her drinking, and there you have it. before she fell asleep, she had promised us a pizza. so the young man and i fumbled in her desk and wrote ourselves a check for $7.00 to Napoli's Pizza, in Poughkeepsie, NY, signed yours truly, sarah t. The young man wears my sweater, from the GAP, 1999. We were evolving you see, from abercrombie hats and armani exchange to softer t-shirts, and bigger curls! some of us, at least. some of us take a bit longer, some of us grew up because the day called for it, some of us sought out those days, some of us hide with 25 year olds, some of us mingle but feel alone, some of us still study, some of us own houses, etc. etc. etc...you can be all of these things, 14, 15, 19, 24, a beautiful 30, whatever, now, you can be all of these things because they come with you - in a really superb and singular way. there isn't any shame in anything you do and i love that. in a room of 30 year olds i feel 18, and i need to be in your corner. HB, JJ.

aliza eliazarov (zzv)

SUSTAIN at the tribeccs Y.

09 September 2011

stolen things! feliz dia dalface!


© migdals

SG

boy at piano © bobby d?!

© bob dylan - who i guess has a show at gagosian?!?!?! this was made in 2009 although it seems like it shoulda been made in the 1930s-40s, but i guess he's an old soul or something so there you go. back to the future. i wonder how bob was able to meet larry gagosian? just kidding.

Pop, 1979 (L.B.)

08 September 2011

aliza's opening, 1 visa, 2 birthdays, a rollercoaster - updates

© aliza aliza's show is happening next friday. i am excited to see this ravenette in her little black dress, and doty with his tote, and baby blues. she has a youthful, infectious laugh and i hope there is a lot of that and support at this opening. thank god we're 7 hours behind. when i awake my telepathic efforts will have been in vain. eye contact will have been had, platonic embraces leaving no one but me cold, charm and white lies: everything had been framed. everyone, too. and that's fine: the continent will sleep while this country is restless. we will hug aliza and celebrate her very real efforts as very real friends DO. suzy got her visa and leaves for italy on saturday. "MAMMA!" she cries. and means it. i am ecstatic for her because to make her smile is like hitting the 7-7-7 jackpot in vegas where the prize is silk scarves and extra-virgin olive oil, honey, and butterflies. i mean it. i won't see her until she returns; which she will. daniel turns 30 tomorrow; i wish for him a lot. best writer, most unique, funniest, most sensitive! he needs 1st row seats to his own show. 1 candle cupcake, and a cupcake for him, too. young jj also turns 30. this wednesday. in these 12 years he has never been a shit head, upset me, or ignored me. he has loved me, cared for me, fed me, guested me, bested me, included me, shared me, and taught me. what does it mean? how is it possible????


sarita is with her best friend in london. i go onto her blog to see her photos and i feel her there. i see her walk and shaking her head and curling her blond curls, growing, growing, growing long...breezy is in LA - ! and maybe back to London we don't really know anything, do we? he says it's boring but it's not. its drama is the 1st car of a roller coaster and he is sitting there in coney island; being jerked around. i see him on the big screen and his eyes are closed, but he is not easy to read. and if i close my eyes, my step-father is conjured. overstepping his boundaries made him a type of psychologist and a scary presence to try to love but there are some times when i conjure his image, and a few of the things he said in 15 years stick. i do not know who those things were for. i see him doing "him" always, i see him training his body in an attempt to squeeze all the poisons out. i see him in his head working on a peace that won't ever come and i see that awareness as both torture and freedom. i see the "spiritual" path as a bunch of bullshit and i see each ones' own unique path as a pile of possibility. i feel for him because this awareness was only a cloak - not a movement itself. i see him sitting cross-legged; he and sarah always had such strong, beautiful legs - i leave them both there...i went to a meditation sit on bowery this tuesday. the speaker never showed (they made that a lesson into itself). i rolled my eyes. CHRIST!@ - must everything have a positive side? must i learn to change THIS pov? would i be a different person w/o these things i obsess over or that bring me anxiety? there is only one way to find out i guess - they say that if you explore and don't like what you see, hear, or feel - you are REQUIRED to reject it all - afterall, you're the boss. the best thing about the sit was the hard pillow under my ass and the cold downtown rain slapping the creaky air conditioner and every other fogged-up part of the huge windows of the studio. the room was so silent and several times i opened one eye as if the other were covered by a patch to take a peek at peoples' quiet faces. the man in front was at a 3% angle to the right. he looked like he was either finding oblivion, riding a wave, or having his hair brushed by a young indonesian in a two piece. i am sneaky and a lot of the time resistant, contra, and stubborn - so i peeked many times, as if to say, i guess, that i AM awake, in my very own way. but yes yes yes, i know that's too literal. you could be a part of a marriage but not actually be present, you could be in a relationship but love someone else, you could be the exec founder of an NGO in Ethiopia and be very very very asleep. my eyes wide open mean nothing but that i am fixated on this life...things change, and there is a lot of comfort in that.

the future (© Jana Romanova)

in some part of russia, © Jana Romanova