Wednesday, August 29, 2007

I tried fixing some of my linx. Isn't working. Damn my chubby, whittled down digitz!

*I have got to stop adding "s" and "z" and "x" to the ends of the my sentences in an attempt to be hip with the young crowd. I think "hip" is a state of mind anyway, and in my mind "hip"=high-waisted pants, suspenders, built in vests and argyle sweaters.

Also, Zimmerman(s), you're on there twice. Note the (s)---see I have a plural problem. Also, why won't it let me link Jack Hanley? Because he's a nudist pinko that's why.


Risa asked me what I wore to class today and I described it as the following, "You know, like typical professor stuff, a tight argyle shirt and pinstripe short-shorts and a pink belt." Then I realized that this is not what a professor would wear, but rather, what a stripper impersonating a professor would wear. Next time I'm wearing those leather elbow padders and nothing else. Maybe a pipe. And a self-satisfied smirk. In fact, maybe I'll try only communicating in smirks from now on.

My back hurts and I think it's from teaching an anatomical drawing class. I started at Southwestern this week and have been enjoying it thus far. I also like getting away from Austin and into the weird little Pleasantville-land of Georgetown. Today I stopped into this drug store that sold very offensive Asian figurines alongside 100 year-old Ibuprofen (which is what I needed....pain relievers, not plastic stereotypes).

I think I'm going to go there every day (unless the ancient Ibuprofen explodes my brain). It's called "Gus' Drug Store" (I think), and Gus himself was very curious about me as I was new in town (and wearing professor-cum-Jenna-Jameson-clothing).

In fact, everyone in Georgetown is very curious about new people....reminds me of a movie I watched recently that came recommended by Trenton Doyle Hancock himself. It was called "I Spit On Your Grave." Anyone know what its claim to fame is? Anybody?

Thursday, August 23, 2007

I'm busy again.
Still haven't gotten my treehoustudio. Sigh. I have been swinging from leopard print towels stapled to my ceiling and speaking only in a Tarzan-ish intonation to prepare. But there's only so much crotch-grabbing and cat-maiming you can do at home before people start saying things like, "Why are you touching yourself?" and "What are you doing with my yardstick?"

Went to Georgetown for new faculty orientation. I learned that I have wayyyyy too much responsibility and that Southwestern has a full day for freshies devoted to "pirate training." I got a new id card as a Southwestern "pirate". I tried to grimace a little bit in the photo.

Went to San Antonio for Risa's talk about her show "The Yellow Wallpaper." I really like Karen Mahaffy's work and am officially adding her name to yesterday's list. Her floating silhouettes (in both video and paper form) are incredibly poetic and haunting without seeming too self-conscious. But then, silhouettes make me hot, as evidenced by my love of Kara.

Went to Ladies' Night at the Cock Pit with Virginia and her hubby Elliot. We played pool and I spent five dollars on an apparently fictional raffle (Elliot was giving away a bark helmet!). The Cock Pit is a weird bar.

Now I'm off to throw a proverbial bottle against Aron Johnston's departing ship. Goodbye Aron, I'll always remember your wheezing fart sounds.

Monday, August 20, 2007

You know an artist I love whose work is getting a second look-see? Joseph Cornell (the Times just had a big article, but I am too lazy to link things). I f'ing love him. And although many claim that he is corny, I find some ethereal melancholic love in his little boxes. Plus, I think his pairings of materials are really unexpected and beautifully disjunctive.
Other artists I've been liking lately:
Demetrius Oliver (an incredible photographer/installation artist I went to Skowhegan with)
Toba Khadoori
Wangechi Mutu
Brad Neely
Thomas Hirschorn
Karyn Olivier (someone I also went to Skowhegan with, I've been taking a second look at some of her psychologically disruptive pieces)
Paul Chan
Sadie Benning
Daniel J. Martinez (I was reminded of how much I love him by Boutman)
Eve Sussman
Rachel Whitetread
The Richtster
Lynda Benglis (Risa reminded me of these incredible protruding "paintings" of hers)
Karen Kliminik
Peter Doig
Kalup Linzy

Sunday, August 19, 2007

At the risk of being Minority Report-like E-arrested, I will divulge that I have been indulging in a little Mary Jane lately. I decided that I do not like this particular downer. It makes me nonverbal and look like a tousled Andre 3000. But it's Summer, right?

I've never been a pothead, and truth be told, am quite frightened by any hallucinatory or otherwise mind-expanding drug. I was very into DARE, but was beat out for "lead DARE officer" by my BFF Kelly. Ironically, Kelly introduced me to the harsher things in life including cigarettes, gossip and skittled Zimas. She then went on to work at Hooters.
I met up with her in VA during my freshman year of college and she had nails as long as my head. But she ordered the same thing she always ordered when we were pre-teens--biscuits and gravy. I miss Kelly a lot, she was like my sister (this particular nostalgic moment was sponsored by Karri Paul and her "top ten").

*I did however smoke the hasheesh fairly often when I lived in the Moroccan district in Spain (see countless entries about Schwarmas and lost brain cells). But like Summer-smoking, European pot-smoking doesn't count. I'm an angel.

*I bought these amazing glass vitrines and am in the process of resin-ing my dioramas into the most fucked up snow globes on the planet.

*I think I may have made up "lead DARE officer" but it was something like that.

*There were some pretty amazing "spirit sticks" at Nohegan. I liked Josh Rios' best of all. Bob wore a balloon hat which got the number two cool prize.

*Stop e-mailing me asking me out on dates, this is a blog not a sex store!

*I made that up.

Saturday, August 18, 2007

I just cut off a chunk of my finger while whittling. I am crying. My mom is dating a veterinarian who was kind enough to talk me through it, because I was about to pass out from the shock. He said I don't need to go to the ER since the bleeding stopped so I am choosing to believe him even though he deals mostly in animals. I have not had a scare like that since I stapled my fingers together when I was 8. There is nothing like seeing a gash on your body. It's chilling.
Whittling, I was so excited about you! Risa says I need Martha Stewart-type whittling gloves, which apparently exist.
*I was watching "Forrest Gump" while I was whittling---probably not the best idea.
Sniffle.
I am so motherfucking clumsy. This is why I never welded anything. And why I still avoid the tablesaw as much as possible.
Sniffle.

I think this is an interesting article.

http://www.nytimes.com/2007/08/09/arts/design/09elle.html?ex=1187582400&en=f4aff7a423c2e29e&ei=5070

Wednesday, August 15, 2007

Today I:

-Ate a 12 lb. burrito for breakfast and spent the rest of the day lamenting it. Burritos are gross and resemble a big log of chum.

-Haggled with 20 different people about my potential health insurance. Bureaucracy thou art my nemesis! I'm going to call your friend and tell him you suck and then he's going to tell his girlfriend's mechanic who will tell his spiritual advisor who will report it to her cousin's gyno, who will relate it to his goth-rock daughter....and well, eventually the shit-talking will get back to you. In time. Your time.

*That just resembled a Sprint commercial or something. Buy Sprint!

-Fell into a cactus (right after my health insurance scare). Oh but what a death that would be, worthy of any romantic poet or rodeo clown.

-Read all the "casual encounters" on Craigslist. People are so awesome and weird.

-Went to Spider House (where I am writing this from). It's been a while...I missed the sensous whipping of strangers' dreadlocks on my back and the public games of hackey-sack (there is actually one happening right now. ACTUALLY.) I think the hackey-sack has Jerry Garcia's face incised into one side. The other side just says "heeeeeeeeeeeeeey."
Sigh, if only. But really, there is a hackey-sack game taking place which is the important thing.

-Turned in mah grades. Not divulging anything there, t'wouldn't be right. They all did well and I'm happy but bloated with exhaustion and post-pregnancy skin sagging.

-Omigod, Spider House just put on Bjork's "Human Behavior." This is so edgy I can't take it.
I think my anti-hipsterism really makes me the ultimate hipster. I'm shuddering now with a self-loathing that only reinforces my status as a pukey non-conformist hipster-hating super hipster. Shudder. lop-sided hair shudder.

*Even I don't understand what I meant by that last statement.
*I am going to go to the sauna everyday to achieve more clarity of purpose so I can serve you fine people.

God, I need to think of more substantial things to discuss than myself. How about that wackiness in the Middle East? That's cwazy, huh?

Monday, August 13, 2007

I had some weird sauna-induced visionquest today. Maybe it was the confluence of semi-nude human bodies, maybe it was my XTREME (!) dehydration brought on by running three miles with a tiny Camel-coated windpipe, or maybe it was the way the wood backing tenderized me like a piece of ali-meat. Whatever man, everything is making sense.

I need to stop worrying about other people and whether or not they like me/want to be my friend/want to do me/like my art/hate my art/ misinterpret my art/misconstrue my online persona/want something from me/judge me as the hedonist I sometimes am/ try to bludgeon me to death with my own cold hand.

People are autonomous and crazy lil' creatures, and I control no one but myself. I have applied a purple, velvety pair of blinders (see "Whatever Happened to Baby Jane" for fashion similarities) to block everyone else out.

Dr. Phil, I'm sorry I said I hated you, obviously some of your (non-board certified) advice took hold.

P.S. I have eaten only Asian food for the last week. Maybe my hallucinatory experience was msg based.

Sunday, August 12, 2007

Lazy Sunday Part Deux:

Class is over, anxiety is relieved (this is helped by the occasional Xanax), and now I am watching "Boys Don't Cry," with Risa. Also, I had cold Mu shu Pork this morning. Breakfast of champions. Breakfast of strength.

Went to OK MTN last night. Liked the show. I am not going to elaborate on that right now because I am intellectually lazy and full of Chinese food. And I am too busy watching Brandon Teena navigate the waters of genderfuckery in mid-90's Nebraska.

Thursday, August 09, 2007

Oh, also I hate art and have decided to become an online escort.
So I can tell on my state of the art site-meter how people are referred to this blog and can see the googled phrases that lead them here. They are always amusing, and nearly always involve some creepy fetish. My involvement in the now-defunct "Donkey Show" contributed to at least 100 one-palmed people finding my blog.

Here are some lovely google searches from this week, all of which I am happy to be affiliated with:
-"panty sniffer"
-"STD calamity"
-"there's a walnut in my throat"
-"top hat strip club"
-"biget toilet"
-"austin gay swim masters"

Doesn't it open your mind to know that people search weird shit like that? I thought I was the only one interested in finding a top-hat strip club!

Sunday, August 05, 2007

XTREME Sabbath!

Today I was reminded of the SNL short "Lazy Sunday" wherein two guys rap about seeing "The Chronicles of Narnia." The only real difference is that I am not a dude, and "Narnia" gives me the willies with all it's thinly veiled moralistic Jesuslove.

I have sun-stroke and a serious case of mental gout, so my recap will be brief, but my Sunday involved the following incredible elements:

-Slurpies.
-Breaking into a private apartment complex pool.
-Wallowing illegally in said apartment pool for hours.
-Being asked semi-politely to leave apartment complex pool.
-Buying sluttastic shorts at Buffalo Exchange that made Arturo grimace at my waning purity.
-Shrimp Tempura.
-The movies "Zodiac" and "Marie Antoinette."
-A cold Tecate and a half-eaten bar of mint chocolate.
-A haircut that I'm convinced brings me ever so much closer to being Clea Duvall's twin.
-A soon-to-be-published conversation with Trenton Doyle Hancock about scatology, sharks and barbies.
-A friend's recent foray into complete and utter sapphic love.

Saturday, August 04, 2007

I got a free belt on the side of the road!
After 14 hours of sleep, I am feeling finally better! I also had 3 consecutive sex dreams last night. Too much information? Maybe, but I think this proves (at least anecdotally), that sex is a recuperative force, and perhaps a panacea for the world's non-sex-related issues.

I made a diorama last night that centers around Sad Little White Girl attending a shark-themed cathedral. Sometime this week I will take pics of mah new shit and put them online. I promise.

I am at Clementine, pretending to sketch but really just reliving my sex dreams. Yum.

Friday, August 03, 2007

I have a lump in my throat and I'm really afraid it's my petrified twin trying to escape. She's never getting out of there!

Last night I had a lil' too much robitussin (to soothe my ills) which made me giggle uncontrollably like a Tammy Faye bible puppet (sniffle). And the residue coating my esophagus is probably what's causing my trapped embryo twin to think she can regain her liberty. Never! Hippie twin!

I made my class read some Flannery, Jerry Saltz and an interesting (albeit depressing) article about the state of the art world by Mira Schor. Lively discussions ensued, but in the end I got all "we are the world" and starting talking about how imaginative systems don't die and the ability of conflicting artistic approaches to coexist is really beautiful. Blah, blah, I really bore myself sometimes with my "all things are valid" liberal logic.

I did scare them a bit about the art world though, talking about the abundance of "bro-dudes" (phrase courtesy of Marie Lorenz---see Dash Snow or Zak Smith for further evidence) and the vapid nature of a contemporary art that panders to a fickle market. Tis' true.

It's hard. And if it's not hard, then it's easy. Which is boring. Like a Jim Jarmusch movie.

*Yes, I understand Jim Jarmusch is poetic and tortured and loves coffee and cigarettes. Yes, I understand his films are intentionally slow-moving and unravel like a beautiful strand of trite art-school yarn. I get it. Get out of my life, Jim Jarmusch!

On the other side of the spectrum (or maybe not...) we have John Waters, whose movie "A Dirty Shame" I watched last night for the first time. Shockingly, I am not the world's biggest Waters fan. I think his films are too much the same, and when I watch too many of them I just go numb. I do kinda love him for his melodramatic sense of the masquerade, but I kinda wish there was a more uneven cadence to his ouevre. Here are the John Waters movies that I do like:

Pink Flamingos---A shit-eating classic that you just simply can't discount.
Crybaby---One of the few times I've felt the Johnny Depp mania so often cited among geeky, unattractive people.
Seed of Chucky--a really amazing take on gender confusion through possessed dolls. Brillllliant.
Serial Mom---Kathleen Turner, please leave me your voice box when you die of being too cool.
Hairspray---I love Ricki Lake, and no, I will not see the new one even though the thought of John Travolta in drag has given me a pleasurable nightmare or two.

Wednesday, August 01, 2007

I can't stop listening to Queen's "Don't Stop Me Now." It has to be one of the finest songs in existence. Freddie compares himself both to a rocket-ship on its way to Mars and a galloping Lady Godiva. That's why call him Mr. Fahrenheit.
Also, I had to lecture some of my students about making it to class....how the punctuality tables have turned.
P.S. I'm still sick. And I erased my dancing entries because they were stupid.