Friday, November 13, 2009


an exhibition I was in.
Which i didn't attend
I'm a slack cunt.

Monday, November 9, 2009


I was asked to describe my drawing style in haiku for an interview.
This is what I came up with.

Sullen teenage girls
Smoking themselves to death
with unborn children

What if Tank Girl got
An inferiority
complex and gained weight?

Leukemia kids
Don't frolic in meadows
They shoot themselves

Saturday, November 7, 2009


I've been talking to strangers on cubicle walls.
Shedding clothes and inhibitions behind closed doors
where these omnipotent social mores which have a hold of us
give a hint of the feeble, inconsequential man behind the curtain.
Intimacy is paramount.


Sometimes I feel guilty for enjoying beautiful things as much as I do. Makes human contact quite unfulfilling comparatively.
I will never love a boy as much as I love fiction.

Tuesday, November 3, 2009


I've been lustin' for an era of great depression and dust storms since reading Woody Guthrie's autobiography.
Disaster is beautiful.
There are no exceptions.

Monday, November 2, 2009


but she sure aint no Calle.
(performence piece for uni)


Her sweat will turn to hoarfrost. Slowly weighted she will cease to run and not be seen till spring.
(We turned into a frozen medow, the wind the only sound. 'We'll know where when we get there' you said)

Thursday, October 29, 2009


oh man. I want to build my own house like nothing else. nothing will align and the walls wont be parallel, but it will be the little lopsided house that i would have built with my own two hands. With wide open spaces and giant windows and bookshelves built into the walls. It'll be made from things found and built and fixed and broken. I'm pretty sure I could do it. I mean, funk, people have been doing it for thousands of years; why the fuck cant I!? So much more fulfilling than living in a house bought with wasted time.


The moral of the story is if you ignore your problems they'll solve themselves.

Monday, October 26, 2009


I've been reading some Asimov and articles on neuroprosthetics and it is some scary shit. Kinda fun to question the authenticity of the human.

Sunday, October 25, 2009


punks are amazing because you are not.

Saturday, October 24, 2009

Dear Aquinas,
I'm sorry but I don't think I'd trade pain for piety even if i could.
I guess that means I'll never be canonized for flawed philosophy.

Tuesday, October 20, 2009


art can be sweet and lovely when it's not trying to sell anything.
Joseph Beuys tries his best to explain pictures to a dead hare while sophie calle secretly follows strangers and photograps lovers and hotel rooms and crumpled bed sheets, shallow husks shed by intimacy.

Monday, October 19, 2009


'hey Angelica, lets jam'


Here are some words that i found beautiful.

Sunday, October 18, 2009

Saturday, October 17, 2009


this week has been better than most. i found myself feeling more like myself than ususal reading 'A Room of One's Own' in Ric's bathroom and sleeping on the couch of a long-lost friend and today, while i was watching a sun-shower outside my window this song came on. sometimes things are just perfect.


castin resin on old pictures and making them into something you can use.

old is new.

Monday, October 12, 2009


the drought has ceased and the wounds of this old house have swollen with the rain and are beginning to flow anew. we must brave the soot and dead skin that will pour out from the crooks and the small creases in the walls before this place is clean again. seeking refuge on table tops and cold window sills as the water begins to rise above ankles and toes and quotidian woes. now is the time to drown the things that i don't want. i can get away with it this time.

Friday, October 9, 2009