For class - for seminar - really! - I had to watch Lawnmower Man.
Abso-fuckin-lootly one of the most challenging movies ever made.
NB: I did not call it a film.
Challenging how, you wonder, squinting your suspicious eyes.
To not keep screaming (as I did) What the HELL happened to the monkey? He was a real winner, and then *POOOF*, he's gone, EXEUNT.
No more monkey.
Then there are twists and turns and the oddest protagonist hairstyles ever viewed. And the movie stretches over two hours. You'll feel like you've donated an organ or something and want something in return. Don't do it.
Giving a seminar chat on Tuesday about three complicated readings.
One of the three of our little Group E has decided that she cannot meet until the night before - amazingly.
I'm forging on and will be making a handout summarizing all of our seminar readings (nutshell-style) and will be putting together a geeky a-v presentation. Solo.
And if my Geek Quotient were not high enough, I'm going to be finishing William Gibson's Neuromancer today.
Love, CyberCult-infused, Love.

Heard from The Kid.
Totally into it was how he began his email and then went on to state he's got a few ideas of his own. That is a plus as working with a model is and should be a collaboration of sorts and if that other person has ideas and a sensuality and a sensibility it will be better than if they are strictly a body in front of me and the lens.
Had a very unforgettable dream about an unforgettable image.
Saw a show of photographs by a Middling City artist who is not a photog but a photo-realistic painter - Curtis Parker. I know him from ages ago, from clubbing, and now he's married to another friend.
In this exhibition was a large print of moldy hollyhock leaves (their stems had not yet projected forth so it was early spring - or maybe autumn and they had been cut down) and much beyond them a gray house, looking rather in need of a paint job. It was a color print but the color was so muted it had hardly any color. Lots of grays.
I kept looking at the print and decided that I had to buy it.
I went back to look at it with JenD and was studying it very closely (just like I was looking at an Iris print yesterday made by Martha Burgess) when JD said That's going to cost about a grand to frame. At least, I said.
Such a beautiful image, not too unlike what I'm making right now for PSD.
Large-scale photographic Love.

Received the email address for The Kid from Marky Sparky Norris (front man at ARTVOICE) and seconds ago emailed said Kid to see if he might consider being my muse and central focus for some new photowork.
*please say yes please say yes please say yes please say yes please say yes*
Told him there'd be no nudity, no pyros, no oddness.
Well, unless he thinks that frenching a hibiscus flower is odd.
Kidding, sort of.
My Kenneth Cole slingbacks turned to sponges in the torrential rains today and so had to purchase some other choices, backups so to speak.
Met with fellows to discuss our presentation in a week of the week's three readings - one dense as stale swiss cheese and the two others less so. On top of usual grad student activities which includes impressive daily ingestion of caffeine.
Had an e-go-round with publisher/editor/pal a few days ago and will meet up with him around the 15th (when school is done for summer) to decide my ARTVOICISTIC fate.
Can go either way.
Is this a cliffhanger?
You betcha.
My gradschoolful Love.

Spent the better part of today making the freelance cash money photographing kids at camp, the camp of lushest green and rimmed with pine forest in a valley. Translation: no cell phone service all day. Chatted illegally on the cell to a NYC pal in a monsoon, ironically after describing how the pre-torrent landscape to my right just off the bi-way resembled Japan rice paddies - tiered and foggy and unbelievably green.
Camp. Teenaged drama. Preteened levelheadedness. Had lunch amid a table full of 11 year olds, rather than the table of grownups. They came to fetch me midway to rescue me from the 11 year olds and I looked up from a conversation about the structure by age, the benefits of peanut butter, the benefits of spreading peanut butter on Fudgicles and the like, and said I'm fine here.
The kids were mainly camera-savvy. Everyone knows how to perform these days, not only for cameras but for each other. Everyone can bust a VH1-perfect move.
Received complimentary art-related email from Ollivier Dyens, Parsons visitor/guest artist, who received several of my jpegged art images. Restrained, passionate.
I will surely plagiarize his NJP-related thoughts.
Back to Parsons/School/NYC tomorrow and tomorrow is a marathon group critique, in preparation for the following Monday's full-on critique with Everyone.
24 months more and I'll be sashaying across a Manhattan stage in crimson robes to a symphony of airhorns and hoots and hollers. I imagine.
Summer Camp-burnt Love.