moriquis fritis

went to see 'Restrepo.' this was outside the movie theater. i hope he fought the good war, and never shot at any one with a semi automatic. that chance is slight. conversely, if he was sent over there just because, or because of nothing, i hope he made it back home, in tact, to moms. and anyway at some point we all fall out of the goddamn tree. belly up. no doubt.

there's something inside of you

i apologize for taking photos at the moma, i apologize. in reality the camera took this photo not me. this exhibit was so beautiful. the performance artist i am speaking about blew my friggin' anklets way off. i don't - TRADITIONALLY - give a hoo wa about performance art but this woman...anyway - believe and care and buy in to what you want, question it or don't, ignore it or embrace it. at this exhibit i chose to embrace it and identify how i was feeling whilst/after each piece. the artist has already performed this piece you see here, but it was her retrospective and so she had hired people to 're-create' her original works...here, quite simply, she builds on the idea of buddhists who meditate for hours/days in rooms filled wish ashes of the dead. anyway, as the woman breathes in and out, so rises the skeleton - as if still alive, and breathing. quite simple really. it is - again - as complicated or beautiful or tragic or dramatic as we want it to be.