As I just wrote to Paula Wachowiak, all is good and right again for Greg Sterlace returns to his eponymous show.
After a sabbatical, a meltdown.
Annie and Michele and the other Sterlaces of sorts did a fine job but there's nothing like the tawdry black witticisms of Greg.
After the Bill Horvitz Trio gig at Hallwalls this week Joe Rozler commented that he'd just seen me on the Home of the Future site and I thought he meant the 4.13.07 appearance on Sam's b-day.
But nope, he meant a viewing of my contrib to the Five Minute Series, the humourous tale of the implosion of a relationship past. Very past, thankfully. Richard Wicka of HOTF told me that my vid is one of the toppermost viewed of the series.
For what that is worth. Too bad there are no royalties.
Out for drinks with Bill Horvitz, Steve Adams, and drummer Harris E was good, Kennedy and I took them to good ol' Gabriel's Gate where the winging molecules sit in the air between O molecules.
Tonight shooting an event at the Central Terminal, Ghost Train, and from the p.s.a. I cannot quite decipher what this will be: an ersatz train ride to the other side is promised. Then maps are given out. If anyone advises me to just lick the map I will decline.
Speaking of declines, as in of civ, the other day, 5.4, was the anniversary of a bigtime school shooting, probably one of the first–Kent State. The NYT has that little link where you can see what happened on the very day you are reading along online, the actual front page of that particular issue.

First observation is that paper layouts have drastically changed. There were many more stories on page numero uno that jumped.
So Kent State, as we all do know, was the shooting of students by State Troopers.
Two women co-eds dead, two men co-eds dead. Two were 19, two 20.
One thing Yours Truly did not know was that the Troopers claimed they began firing when they were sniped at from a grassy knoll.
No snipers.
No surprise.
As I said to a client this week at a meeting, as we began to speak about the war and the killing of the environment, It's not the time in so-called polite conversation to have such a talk and then pause and say Well, on a HAPPIER note, or some such thing. Stick to the talking points fercrissakes.

Full day of shooting yesterday, ending up at a country club in the Middling City exurbs where YT viewed the second awe-inspring toupée in the past month.
I ask You.
Are viewers meant to not notice that the hair is faux? Has anyone ever created a believable toupée. Why are wigs not humourous. Hell, even Britney's wig is not a hoot.

In the online music jibing quadrant of the internet system read today that fans are shocked and stunned that Britney lip-synchs, especially during her quarter-hour quote-unquote sets at a national music club chain.
As You may note, O Loyal epinw reader, YT has photographed this pop icon (who is, undoubtedly, still red hot in Japan) several times, and has always felt a great tinge of sadness and pity for the young girls (in make-up), clutching $50 programs, watching their pop star fav lip-synch the night away.
One pop rock mem worth a revisit is that of Britney popping up from underneath the stage of the MC Arena like a vampire lifting up from the earth.
In all my decades of music and spectacle watching and shooting and documenting have never seen, in ANY music genre, any art genre, a more odd sight than that very one.

On that lip-sunk note.
Sunk in Love, Love.

For the first time in human, art-making history Hallwalls has printed up a poster for Artists and Models with artist names on it.
I have to stumble down memory lane and recall the premier Artists and Models in downtown Middling City with films by Kevin Fix, fashion show by Steve Gallagher, and oso much more. It was a slammin' party and I got involved thereafter as artist and model. And at A&M #2 had work included in the Reject Show, of works rejected from Albright-Knox's WNY exhibition. Before it became the sprawling, incomprehensive series of shows that it is today.
Speaking of AKAG (and more A&M recollections to follow), was there for Kennedy's concert of Roscoe Mitchell and was hoping to catch a glimpse of the Francis Bacon installation. Not yet. That opens tomorrow but Yours Truly is missing the grand op for a gig.
YT needs to get hold of an old-fashioned opaque projector to make large-scale paintings once again, as I did for another A&M with a circus theme. Attendees could stick their heads through and become Saint Sebastian, Fat Lady, Snake Charmer, etc.
This year's transformational panels will feature all things nocturnal.
Dark, shady, street-loving, moon-blooming, and the like.
Last night, speaking of moon-blooms, went with Kennedy to hear and see Acid Mothers Temple at SoundLab, a rollicking 70s-infused rock band from Nippon/Japan.
The four men in the band are avid and two have heads of incredible hair-long, shaken all over the place for full rock effect.
The femme in the band is kind of Stevie Nicksing along with scarves, hands all curled up to the rock heavens, some warbling when needed, a wrist shakey instrument.
In the midst of the set I kept meandering to the front of the stage for a divergent rock perspective, in the throes and deep in the notes.
There was one rapturous guy doing what YT has termed an Esmerelda Dance-a rare male doing the Esmerelda Dance.
Also in the midst of the set I said into Kennedy's ear
There's a new trend in Tokyo, Male Gals, gyaru-o, boys who dress like girlies and wear makeup and go tanning. There was a New York mag sidebar outlining some of the products these gyaru-o fellas use, including something called Moving Rubber Grunge Mat (Love always Love those Japanese names) for $7 (that'd be about 15¥) which is super-stiff hair goop.
Recalling the hair goop of the 80s now, coming full circle back to the Artists & Models inception. Big hair, strong hair goop, shoulder pads (*cringe*) odd fashion twists like cloth gloves for some occasions. And oso much much more.

Artistmodelmusic Love, Love.

Apparently my stray cat pal, Extra, is an advocate, a practitioner of Santeria.
A few nights ago I made Kennedy and me some fab squid ink pasta and salmon and other special ingrediently mélange.
We did not finish it and Kennedy says You know how we eat leftover fish dishes, give it to Extra.
Extra nibbled out the fish bits.
Later I looked out to discover a beheaded bird near his food bowl.
He was very proud of his little killing spree, standing very tall in the sunshine.
I told him what a great hunter he is.
And I raised an eyebrow not at his Santeria practice but that just when you think you know someone, sometimes you like so do not.
I do recall that Santeria advocates killed and beheaded just like Extra did to speed Fidel along to good health.
Onwards.

Blooming spring, beheaded birds Love.