Friday, May 30, 2008

I'm growing weary of this purgatory that I'm in. I wanna be in dirty Berlin already. I'm tired of not having a studio, and I'm also tired of being loosely tethered to 3 geographical locations at once. I want some motherfucking consistency. And a schwarma.

I want to start over, like in witness relocation programs. If I was placed in said program, I think I would get oversized acrylic nails and become a hairdresser named "Bronze".

In all honesty, I really enjoy cutting hair and have seriously considered pursuing this as an alternate career. But then again, the history and theory behind hair-cuttery as illuminated in Shear Genius really bores me, so maybe I'm just destined to be a savant. The Henri Rousseau of hairdressing.

*I tried to convince my mom to let me cut her hair today, but she thought (somewhat correctly) that I would butch her up.

My sister Andie showed me her workplace today, which is a really swanky country club. It made me recall the days when I worked at River Run Country Club (also in Charlotte) picking up fat white men's sweaty towels, cleaning fat white men's toilets, and sweeping fat white men's tennis courts. Those were not the best of times. But I did get free hot dogs from the snack bar, so you know, it probably evened out.

Thursday, May 29, 2008

I finally watched Knocked Up, which, while delicious and heartwarming, reinforced the pro-endometriosis, anti-childbirth mantra that I whisper to myself in the morningtime as I drink my bark and devil's foot uterus-clearing shake.

I've liked Judd Apatow since Freaks and Geeks, but was sorely disappointed with the mediocre Forgetting Sarah Marshall. I just didn't think it was that funny, sorry. Not. that. funny.

Along with studying the finer points of the German language, I've been reading about the nation's swastika'ed and stasi'ed history. I'm reading this amazing book called, Hitler and the Occult, which tracks his obsessions with Nostradamus, astrology and the Dark Arts. Awwwwwwwesome. Here are some interesting things I've learned about Adolf in his youth:

-He may have had encephallitis as a child, making him very sleepy and moody and uncooperative.

-His daddy was not nice to him.

-He spent a long time bumming around Vienna, laboring under the delusion that he was some kind of special artist-type (sound familiar?).

-He may have gotten syphillis from a Jewish woman in Vienna, thereby transferring his sexual hatred unto an entire race.

-He totally read TigerBeat and earmarked pictures of Kaiser Willhelm in a swimming hole fondling his magical lance.

Monday, May 26, 2008

After 18 hours of a/c less driving, I made it to South Vagina with little damage besides a minor hearing injury due to the concurrent sounds of open windows, pre-Cold-War instructional German tapes and sodium waterfalls forming pools in every crevice of my body.

Hmmm, I have very little news to discuss really. Life is exceptionally slow right now, and I think I am going to just watch a lot of Bravo while I make 5,000 German flashcards. I actually studied German for about 7 hours last night while watching a marathon of Law and Order: SVU. Now I'll always associate the language with pedophilia, doll fetishists and Ice-T.

I wrote a long diatribe about the following article by Michael Bise, but thought better of it:

http://live.glasstire.com/index.php?option=com_content&task=view&id=2307&gtsect=Articles&gtcat=Secrets%20Revealed

*My grams' computer is fucked so I can't do a link for some reason.

Part of me wants to applaud him for having the cohones to share something so personal and incendiary, but the other part of me wants to deride him for writing the most congratulatory sexploitation article masquerading as some kind of feature/review (of collectors?) that I've ever read.


Tuesday, May 20, 2008

Well, I'm leaving on Sat. and I might have a job in the Big German Apfel as a tour guide. I have a lot of feeeeeeeeeelings about it, and lull myself to sleep at night with Liza and Hewig's Berlincentric vocal stylings in order to deutsch away my moving anxiety. There's so much to miss in Austin, but I will not miss this fucking, fucking heat.

No, I will not miss that.

I went to get the a/c in my car fixed today and found out that my compressor has shards of crap floating around or something and it will cost me a pretty penny to fix it. And I don't have pennies that pretty. So, looks like I'm driving cross-country with constant butt sweat and heat-induced highway visions of speaking buffalo and sashaying headlights.


Aw nutz, I forgot about Nohegan, but was reminded by Lozano's synopsis...here:
http://live.glasstire.com/index.php?option=com_content&task=blogcategory&id=33

Everybody should go because it's fun and so hot that you forget yourself and impale people with bedazzled bamboo shafts.

Monday, May 19, 2008

Aw, babyarturo threw me a surprise party! I was so surprised! He tricked me into believing that I had to help him with his overflowing toilet. So, as I was grumbling about poop and dedication, and hitching up my sweater vest to prevent any splashback, I entered and saw a ton of my favorite people huddled together and staring at me like hideously contorted wax figurines.
I had so much fun, and the thought was really sweet, but I seriously almost died of fright. I must have some kind of weak constitution or something, because I came close to having a little "surprise" in my panties. This came on the heels of a ridiculously debauched weekend where I bid farewell to Austin in style---if "in style" means a Stevie Wonder-a-thons and homemade ouija boards. Shit, I have really never been that surprised in my life. Thanks for coming, people who came! I'm sorry I was so scared of you!

Thursday, May 15, 2008

Just got back from the new Domy, which looks pretty hawt.
http://domybookstore.com/austin/atx_gallery/index.html

Wednesday, May 14, 2008

OMFG. When I was younger I had a total tornado phobia, and it just returned as my house was pelted with giant hail and I heard glass shattering outside. I thought I would be swept away like that crazy Dorothy lady from that square state.
I was all alone in my closet (yes, I trapped myself in the closet, only it wasn't as entertaining as R. Kelly and his midget/bitch themed opus) and I swear my whole house was shaking. I called a myriad of friends, none of whom picked up, which is good because I was hysterical and would have regretted the next morning convo. In my fright, I strategically called certain people: Sasha because she is a storm specialist, Risa because she is good at articulating the ridiculousness of certain neuroses and Arturo because he has a sturdy SUV that could retrieve and salvage my far-flung body parts.

In other news:
I'm sad to see that Clementine Gallery is closing, http://chelseanow.com/cn_85/clementine.html

Hana had some people over to see a Czech musical duo, and they were pretty amazing. Everyone was still and quiet for the whole hour that they played, which made me really wonder why I don't do that more often. Then I realized that I'm twitchy.

Anthony, Arturo, Xochi and I saw Smart People today, and I must say that I was disappointed. None of the characters were at all sympathetic, and the whole thing seemed so overwrought; it was like Happiness, but um, happier.

*And that's despite the fact that it stars my doppleganger Ellen Page, who it must be said, can no longer be my doppleganger because she weighs like 7 pounds now.

Monday, May 12, 2008

I'm watching Drawn Together and one character is having a vaginal makeover. They just used the term "Quadruple Pie-Pass."

I just found out that I'm hosting a goodbye party for my assistant tomorrow, it's really the least I can do to allow my house to be overrun by undergrads spewing sangria.

I've become crazily infatuated again---this always seems to happen to me as I disembark (see my earlier proclamation of love for a German). I'm like some kind of physical attention-starved sailor on a dirty manboat. And I'm shipping off tomorrow. And I have nothing to lose. And I have a myriad of venerial treasures from the Orient.

*I sparkle down there, I really do.

I am sooooooooooo sick of moving, I feel like my life is one big trash adventure.
Just got back from Houston, and it was really, really fun. To recap:

The Diverseworks show with Stephen Vitello and Kara Hearn is fantastic. Stephen Vitello combines ambient sounds, various color-makers and a nebulous, menacing fog to create a kind of peripheral James Turrell rave room. Arturo and I were talking about it, and how his installation somehow feels more sublime to us than a lot of Turrell's in part because it taps into a certain party aesthetic and lingering excitement that we (as youngins') respond to more viscerally than *quaker stuff*. I dunno, actually I've never been to a rave, but I can tell you that I ascended into a semi-sublime state while I walked around the exhibition. And I didn't need neon bracelets, a slimy tongue in my ear or a slam-dancing injury to do so.

Kara Hearn is in the project space and has several quiet rock/nature installations combined with a couple of videos that I find fascinating. In one, she is subsumed by different personas, and there's this child-like narcissistic vibe to it. Example: there's a scenario where she is holding her own hand during a kind of earthquake, and it is really poignant. Her work really stands out from the glut of character based performance/video stuff I've seen lately (see Tamy Ben Tor) because it is personal, subtle and has heart. Aw. Plus, she had a whole teenage-girl-fear-of-female-sexuality thang going on, and you all know how I love that.

Man, I was going to talk about the other shows, but I am running out of speed and cigarettes.
So I shall summarize in short:

The CAM show made me realize that I dislike thematic shows where the specificity of subject neutralizes the work (see Unmonumental). I like most of the artists included, but Old Weird America isn't quite as weird when everything is the same amount of weird. Also, it seems like most of the artists are interested in the same non-place: where psychedelia meets the Civil War. In short, I didn't feel very much although I do find it interesting that so many people from different places have arrived at the same solution.

The Blaffer was slightly uneven, but it had heart (which I thought was lacking at the CAM), and for that I enjoyed it. I was proud of my Houston peeps like Hanamatron, SashaDela and Seth Alverson, who I think did awesome.

Friday, May 09, 2008

Burp. Off to Houston. I should mention that the CAM is having a v. exciting show called "The Old, Weird America," which includes a lot of artists I like who also share a renewed interest in the folkier things Miss America has to offer.

Thursday, May 08, 2008

I have a serious case of the blues. I'm hungover and angsty and am simultaneously indulging in my melancholy and chastising myself for being so weak and selfish. I wasn't really happy with my artist's talk because I was fucking petrified at the sight of 30 people sitting and staring at me. Honestly I felt 13 again (but maybe this self-aware awkwardness was appropriate). Afterwards, I wanted to retire to my room and play Nirvana really loud and scream obscenities at my mom.

Then, a bunch of people talked about politics which, even with the current primary excitement, I find to be chillingly depressing.
Then Nathan, Julie and I went swimming and I wore wet clothes for far too long. I am a wet blanket in wet clothes and I smell like Teen Spirit. Nathan said it could be alcohol-induced depression hangover, which as a term and as a thought, only makes me more depressed.

Sidenote: Ivan and I hung out with Kate Horsfield the other night and that was really fun and awesome. Kate seems like an amazing woman and artist who's accomplished quite a bit. She and Ivan discussed Sadie Benning and her pixelvision camera, so I re-watched some of her early videos and fell in love all over again.

Sunday, May 04, 2008

What is the world coming to? Residents of the isle of Lesbos want to reclaim the term "lesbian," an Austrian man raped and imprisoned his daughter for 24 years, polyamory is the new monogamy, Cindy Sherman's cuckolded boyfriend made a movie about being lame....I'm just stuffed with gross and unnecessary information and I want 2012 (AKA THE APOCALYPSE!!!) to come already.

Saturday, May 03, 2008

P.S. I'm going to Houston sometime this week and am very excited. Seems as though the Blaffer and D-Works are hosting some interesting shows.
Man, I have some kind of migraine and it's killing me.
Maybe part of it is that I keep reading obscure articles about like the California penal code and other such shit.
*I didn't read anything about the California penal code, but it is a good example of the type of issue-related article that is giving me a migraine.

I went to quite a few Fusebox events this week, two of the better ones were Erick Michaud & Erin Curtis' performance/installation and the Lionel Ritchie Opera. It was a muthafuckin' Lionel Ritchie Opera. I love Lionel. All in all, I am really impressed with the direction Fusebox is taking.

Mommathan took me out to nice dinners and I ate like the starved, penniless artist I pretend to be in order to elicit sympathy.
And today I went to UT's aquatic center to see momma swim the 200M butterfly. She placed second! I was so proud of her. And she only came in second because the winner was a world-record holder and wore a tadpole suit (see below).
The meet (which was the Master's Swimming Nationals, no less) smelled exactly as I remembered. It's the smell of old people and wet skin and chlorine. Seeing so many people invested in this strange subculture is interesting. The more serious swimmers wear bodysuits that make them look like giant sexless tadpoles. Tadpoles are already sexless, I know, but they look like people tadpoles trying to look andro.