Monday, December 04, 2006

Sludge skin

Sometimes New York makes me feel so heavy. No, I don't mean fat, or lead like. Its like my flame feels diminished here, and I take on some sludge layer made of car horns and shopping bags and nose corks. Seriously, Its bumming me out. I escaped from my ghetto fabulous gallery squat with the taste of Indian planes on my tongue, only to wind up locked in by my own key deep in the heart of my childhood fortress. My Mecca. My third eye studio. This safe place. Home of my love is now only filled by my memories of her, these flints of paint and paper I rub together to generate some heat to make me feel connected again. Its getting colder out. I took advantage of late fall by sacrificing a $75 monthly metro card to the god of meandering walks.

Working on an art show. My first solo solo show in NYC. My Drawing Center show this summer was solo cause it was only crust and dirt collaborations, but it was a harmony we created, and now I get to speak with my own voice. And its a prayer. Its a prayer wheel, set in motion by the viewer. Feeling the Dada spirits in the history of this building. Not leaving for days, wonder what my friends the Slavic elevator men think I'm up to in here...

Little Cakes, It's a wonderful gallery. Honestly, It feels like the most connected space in the city. And I mean connected to the planet and the community. I have the honor of showing there...January 5th I think is the first day. They are too tiny of a place to have a reception, and Its kinda out of the way, but I hope those who go see my show will be touched by what I am creating. Here's their website so you can make yourself familiar with how rad they are:

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