Wednesday, October 12, 2005

Hello friends. Obviously one cannot count on my bloggability. Indeed, I could be accused of blog neglect. If this is any indicator of my child-rearing skills, then I will probably be arrested for leaving lil' Suzy in a brothel broom-closet with a sippy-cup full of kerosene.
News: I am a hermit now. And I am fairly miserable and whiny about it. I figured that I wouldn't bore you fine people with my oppressive artspeak garbling. So that said, here is a fun art anecdote: I had a terrible critique the other day. This woman compared my paintings to movie posters and recommended that I draw pictures of trains. She can kiss my caboose. Or lick my rear cab (it's really up to her.)
I am working on a painting for a "New Texas Painting" show at Diverseworks in Houston. I have to finish it by next week. I am not a machine dammit! Everyone seems to think of me as "Ali the Assembly Line" artist. I am not flattered. Or mechanized.
And I have my orals (not as fun as it sounds) in 3 weeks. And then I have a show at "Art Palace" Nov. 18th. So, forgive me if I am not the upright blogging citizen that I should be. I will be that and all more, after all dis shit is behind me. I will rock your world. I'm going to assemble and army of androgynous lovers just so that I will have something to write about.

Sunday, October 02, 2005

Me= total weenie this weekend. Not even a weenie, more like a Tofurkey Dog or some other sort of lame meat-like substitute. Maybe even a saggy bag of South Beach Diet certified trail mix from the Wheatsville Co-Op. Not only would it cost you 97 dollars on the scale, but you would have to wade through the stench of pseudo-Hippie dreams that permeate that place. Stop acting so snooty Wheatsville Co-op, I'm an artist dammit! Yes, yes, I think the movie "Slacker" is great too.

Example: last night I was lulled to sleep by the mediocre comedy stylings of the new SNL cast. Tina Fey is preggers so she's not doing the weekend update anymore. Who gets pregnant nowadays? People who are intricately involved in black-market baby-snatching rings, that's who. Not to cast stones, but Ms. "Fey" has a googly eye and a mysterious scar. Obviously she's been through some shit. She was probably discovered cradling a Moroccan baby and a hooka full of hasheesh (which should be considered baby-trading currency as far as I'm concerned.)
Can't we all just get along? And by "just get along," I mean trade all babies for hasheesh. And by "trade all babies for Hasheesh," I mean get single and high. And by "single and high" I mean lose all romantic attachments and your sense of sanity. And by "lose all romantic attachments and sense of sanity" I mean be me.