a new you

I type here,
transformed..

post burning man

shedding

dropped off some baggage
burned it in the desert

crystal heart exposed now

in love with everything/one

back in SF for a few days

my heart swells like a sail with the wind behind it

all is good

breathing blessings every breath

relaxing

time slows

my life has changed from >projected auto-biography strategy< to:

something new
something more magical
something more surprising
something more open

An avocado and 3 pears

That moment of hands held on laps
like pillars of ancient Greece.
A moment of glory lingers and echoes
in many forms
like a rock skipped across
the surface of time

and sometimes you find yourself looking
right into the heart of a concentric circle.
And the subway pushes on, to
Coney Island,
roof tops bellow
squares of light
thumbnails of life,
scrolling through to the beach,
parking lot of baseball stadium where Daft Punk
plays inside for more than I have in my wallet.
The concrete suits me though.
Room to dance and move around
I hope, as the train is in motion, and I project
the future at the same pace the D travels along its
steel course.

___________________________________________________________



Dancing combustion of friends
opens gateway
4 magical tickets apparently earned by our
abandon
into the moment
of transforming felt beats into moved space/time.
Handicap parking spot outside stadium wall,
lightshow seeping onto distant high rise facades,
turning brown brick into rotating psychedelic purple.

Once inside, thousand's hands in the air,
a triangle of light,
Exploding smiles ricocheting,
rotating constellations,
Pulling energy buckets up
and slowly spreading the contents into the sky.

We caught the wave, and
after the show the curl continued to carry us,
young love washed up on the sand, just like a finger snap.
Just like tickets.
The night unfolds.
Beautiful Rose.

May my life be a garden like this.
Wild, yet watched over and tended to
by loving "hands."

_________________________________________________________________________________________


Hand stands.
bird food.
A central park lunch hour.

_________________________________________________________________________________________

Cries of pain,
loneliness,
seeking of connection with community, yet
self alienation via
megabit compression
expanding into time/space from cell phone download,
distortedly blasting for all on D train to hear
from backwards baseball cap covered nodding head youngster
with healthy urban ego.

The Last Unicorn

New video from my Crust and Dirt performance in Tokyo (May 2007). Edited by my friend Kensuke..

Summer of love (and friends) (and food) (and work) (and music)

This week has been bannanas! Yumi from Tokyo came by for a visit, so did my buddies Kyle and Kim from SF, touring as Pale Hoarse (www.myspace.com/palehoarse). We met up for a picnic in central park with Will who is in Moon and Moon (www.myspace.com/moonandmoon), and his girlfriend Natasha who is on her first US tour (www.myspace.com/batforlashes). Next day I saw a fantastic Sudanese concert in central park and then went to see my friend Diego's band in Bklyn (www.myspace.com/crashdietcrew). The next day he and I went out to Jersey City for some authentic Indian food and exploration, and then wasted $11 on Transformers. Last night I went out to my old teen-age indie rock stomping ground, Maxwells in Hoboken, to catch Bat for Lashes first US show, and on friday my friends Invisible Conga People (www.myspace.com/invisiblecongapeople) will be playing at Monkey Town in Bklyn. I know this post has been a total shout out to my musical friends... thanks for the inspiration! I feel lucky to know all of you!

Live from Paris

I've been getting some Sphereism drawings ready for an art fair out in Portland, and I fell in love again with the style I was doing in that series, so I decied to bust out a new one to send with the rest. Basicly all my past Speherism paintings have been very esoteric, and perhaps above the heads of the audiance I am trying to reach with my visual instructions on how to concieve of the structure of universal energy. Anyway, from high-brow to low-brow is now where I am. Last summer I was re-mixing the Poincaire conjecture with Snap,Crackle, and Pop, and National Enquirer's spread on the Joan Benet Ramsey murder suspect. This summer I'm all about Paris. Maybe because I've realized something about culture, but instead on my ideological enemy, she can be my trojan muse. Anyway, its a work in progress. When I worked out of Triple Base in SF I would leave the door open at night when I was making art, open to chance conversations, and basicly sharing the art making process with the public, who more often than not were drunk people on the way to get a brain taco from my next door neighbor (Taqueria Vallarta) at 2 a.m. . I felt the same urge tonight, but I don't have a street level storefront anymore, so I went onto this new website that is like a live video chatroom (www.stickam.com), and just had the camera on my hand and pencil and paper. Lots of other folks in video cam land stoped by and watched my draw live. It was fun knowing there were sometimes up to 7 strangers all over the world watching this piece take shape...

ACK!

I truly felt like Waldo from "Where's Waldo" fame during the first week of July on the island on Nantucket. I was the only beard on an island of prepsters. Yikes! There were the uncomfortable stares, the mention of "terrorist" under the breath, and the shouts of "Osama! Remember 9/11!" from the speeding jeeps. Oh well, the long bike rides thru nature, and time on the beach ballanced out the prejudice (beardudice?). I also had time away from my book project to work on some paintings and read Man Ray's autobiography. I turned a year older while out there in the Atlantic, and returned to The City refteshed and tan, feeling more comfortable in my skin when its that olive shade. Theres so much going on this summer its preety incredible. The night before I left I got to play on stage with Gang Gang Dance, and caught an amazing Dan Deacon performance at McCarren Pool the day I got back. Unfortunately I missed the 7/7/07 BOA drum spiral my friend Hisham organized with the Boredoms...I guess you can't do it all...
back to the grind....

Dang!

So....I accidentally erased all these pix from my camera of nights of archival research, fancy parties (including a funny one of me with Tommy Hilfiger), and other pixelated observations. It was a total blow to me to just loose all these images...I had to recover by shooting more to fill up the space that was now void... My buddy Izzy from SF was in town so I ran around with him and his friends for a bit last nite....no blog would be complete with out a few party pix...

Magnum's 60th Birthday

There is occasionally respite from the 14 hour work day I spend in the archive. Last night the photo collective Magnum celebrated its 60th birthday. Grandpa Halsman was poker buddies with the original crew, and we've been working together ever since. Now they are all my colleagues too. First stop was a party at the MoMA sculpture garden for staff past and present, and all the amazing photographers they work with. Elliott Erwitt, Koudelka, and Wayne Miller were there, among many others who I didn't have a chance to put a face to a name. Donna Ferrato and I became fast friends, dancing in the rain and talking about eyes. I also got to meet Alex Majoli, the young Italian photographer who is carrying the torch my grandfather lit called "Jumpology". Then it was off to Essex house on Central Park South. It was summer solstice and an amazing night for connecting with many many people. I ran into some friends from SF, Laurel Nakadate again, and met some people on the way out who knew my grandparents and also happened to notice the hologram necklace I was wearing as being produced by a friend's company. Anyone who knows me knows that I have had hologram technology on my mind for quite sometime, so it was pretty special to get some insider's info. OK, back to archiving.....