Friday, June 24, 2005

Beth Dearest and Yours Truly this early afternoon did the girlie version of playin' the nines, and this is an exciting brand new conceptual development spun out whilst waiting once again in the concrete luvv of (no, not the Guggenheim... but close) JFK airport. Playin' the nines, girlie stylee, means tossin' out the angst con brio, then there's a counter toss, and so on and so forth until you've walked several long city blocks, whipping each other into a frenzy of purge, anxiety building to fever heat and then
*P O O O F *
it goes away. Usually. Nines over. Misery quelled, time to move on to fuckin', much-deserved FUN.
Armed as usual with anti-fellow-traveler devices: earplugs, iTunes, laptop, mags, liquids, and, most important, a don't-fuck-with-me-NO-don't-even-look-at-me aura. No, scratch that, it's more the aura of ignoration, ignoring fellow travellers. High on pet peeve list: those who apparently haven't travelled in the last half decade, astonished that they must show picture id, take shoes off, de-jacket, etc. Those who (come to think of it, just like tourists on Broadway in SoHo) move in slo-mo to come to halts for no apparent reason. Time to plane.

Plane ol' Love.

This just in:
JFK is playing REM's At My Most Beautiful over the creaky p.a. - heard in this joint before and still a surprising choice for sonic vibe control.
Sonic Vibe Control, one more amazing band name by YT.
This also just in:
Liz tells me that epinw is linked from her own blog and I'll be dang-blamed, it is like so true.

Thursday, June 23, 2005

So, here's what the shrink had to say about the work of Yours Truly. After my illuminating and oso brief description of what It is (moments of people moving through art spaces as well as of industrial spaces).
He said, and I paraphrase:
Well, I see the connection, industrial spaces are oftentimes transformed into art spaces so there is a parallel. He (Mark, the Brit) went on with such beautiful clarity I made mental notes all over the place as there he was spouting forth a grand thesis statement, a raison d'etre et art if You will.
At some point Mark was speaking of the mango. The mango. I wrote this down. Now, after decades of shooting and witnessing great rock moments I sometimes mis-hear the world. So, the mango. It was after some careful calculations that I determined it was not a mango he was speaking of but a main goal.
After class Beth and I meandered in an out of three bookstores, including The Strand where David Sedaris was to read from his newest book. We did not stay as I've seen his schtick before and there were more books to find in other places.
Time to return the XL1 to Parsons School of Destinations and then witness great moments in art past before meeting with Mark the Shrink again for more elucidations.

Lucid Love.

Wednesday, June 22, 2005

Dorota just made her patented jet fuel and soon it will be time to ka-zing out of the loft and drift through the streets before our class meets collectively with a - dig this - shrink. I like telling people that Parsons has supplied us with a shrink for it sounds like so new age yet parental and proactively imbued in quirk.
Last night, whilst waiting for Justin at the usual designated meeting joint, Sweet and Vicious, met a guy named Peter who was waiting for approx fifty to be showing for a bon voyage celebration. We talked over the din of a table of guys getting redder in faces celebrating a b-day. He intrigued greatly as he runs a super-swingin' p.r. firm and I'm sitting there with all my fab skill of write thinking Buddy, you have NO idea that you're sitting next to your next copy writer. Yet.
Just checked out his website and it's rather subdued, not very flash.
The evening evolved into a spot in Brooklyn named Floyd. As in Pink. But not.
Saw all the gang and it was a treat.
Time to wend, not to spend, to learn and be learned.
Missing Kennedy greatly.

Missing Love.

Tuesday, June 21, 2005

One productive meeting with JR down, one thesis show to go.
Just did a show + tell for about 1.5 hours, showing Jim all the new things - the highs, the lows, the dodgey experiments, the curios, the cinematic triumphs. And for the triomphes cinématiques a rare epinw exclamation point. !
Dropping major baggage (literally, not figuratively) at loft before wending my way uptown to get inspired. Read: look.
After a while I will socialize with schoolies and others on the A list.

A listed Love.

Monday, June 20, 2005

Today's theme: readjustment.
Changed JetBlue itineraries for rest of the ultimate semester resulting in no rising + attempting to shine at 4AM each bookish Monday to catch the 6 (not green line, as in subway, but actual hardcore 6AM flight out of the Middling City) en route to Parsons School of Non-Details. Learned, amongst other things today, that school starts at noon on Mondays, not a minute earlier. 12 - 9 = 3 hours to wend way from JFK to PSD.
More readjustment.
Shiney Apple sleeping destination was changed from sublet situation in the easterly twenties back to the beloved and familiar SoHo - i.e. Loft of Dorota et al. I am here now, wondering if I can muster up any more energy to do a bit more digvid tweaking. I think not. There is always tomorrow, with tomorrow's fresh eyes, tomorrow's turbo-powered café (heading straight to Ceçi-celà when the sun rears its drastic summer head), tomorrow's revamped badassness, tomorrow's free day status following meet-up with Mentor JR.
As I told a schoolmate in the elevator today Art is not a life or death situation - art is supposed to be fun, fercrissakes. Put that on your wisdom-rich wall calendar and smoke it.
I remain artful and oso much more.

Oso Love.

Sunday, June 19, 2005

Well, one thing to look completely forward to this summer (besides looking at Modern's Friedlander retro) is the pending release of Johnny Depp in the Wonka remake - although he looks very peculiar, thanks to director Tim Burton. Did this movie need to be remade. I think not.
So Anita West is on 97 Rock blathering about the new release by Ringo Starr and that he looks fantastic. Colour me doubtful, about both.
Finished shooting a weekend of weddings - one in Erie, PA and one out in the exurbs. In Erie I learned some valuable things. Such as small Catholic colleges are not shy about commissioning grand stained glass windows, there's a small vintage smokeshop on State Street and that there's a private club on same called Marinator or some such thing - a place employing snippy bartenders who wish to make photogs drink from plastic cups, which I ixnayed. A real glass, puh-leez. I mean really. Hired helpers dig real glass, too.
Just back from a coffee/love fest with Allen and Kunji - a much-needed jolt of both.
So back to digvid edits, dad's day restaurant foray, more edits, more errands and then jetting off to school. New protractor, new shoes, new semester.
Hello anxiety.

Anxious Love.