oak mot!

you are as sparkling as jon dore's eyes.
and i really love you.
for all the kittens out there - i am glad you are black and white
xoxoxogonzo

wherein our hero questions your authenticity

i can never think of anything intelligent / interesting to say
other than the negative to the negative of all else

hesitation and consequence
, an archival of failure





inspirations ::
BOYD RICE
andy warhol
anton newcombe
anton lavey
charles manson
claudia kishi
mollie sue
catherine lawrence
mark z danielewski
hoop girl [from ooooh so long ago. she haunts thoughts that cross years]
francis picabia
lovecraft ;;; springtime is lovecraft, with the discovery of underground lairs and crypto-everything.

all i can do is rebel the rebels, protest the protest



MY MOTHER SAID
TO GET THINGS DONE
YOU BETTER NOT MESS WITH MAJOR TOM

goodbye agamemnon

forget everything you knew about the will to conquer
forget everything you knew about the will to power
forget everything you knew about your selves

this is you infinite wisdom tooth / my last night in bed with you
[there are no words]

i'll have a new camera in a couple of weeks but until then
a salute to my 4 years with the beefiest cheesiest piece of glass encased in black plastic.

reference a plenty.

excuse us all as we pull our bodies together
falling apart at every seam
can't help from falling over every edge

my lungs are about as comprehensible as




my head is as hazy as this city we struggle for




what looks more graphically pleasing
1PPP 2PPP 3PPP 4PPP 5PPP 6PPP 7PPP 8PPP 9PPP
?

lesson of the weak ::
'Wer im Glashaus sitzt, sollte nicht mit Steinen werfen.'

the thing with prayer is
that even though it may not be the most reliable method of healing
it does no harm to anyone, and best of all it is silent and free.



just stay out of the gift shop.

i like my nostalgia. it is my own self pilgrimage to visit these sites on accidental occasion.
even if there are no accidents.
no matter the cost, friendships are worth celebrating.




plans.

mockdate.

here are some things to tame the masses.

wearing a dress, recycled from a baby blanket.
this was what i did to help recover from my illness on spring break.




detail 'my stinging words'
on rereading many journal entries from ~2004, i have realized just how at fault i was to the situation. i won't take responsibility for this person's actions, and i have yet to find the initiative to apologize for giving reason to perpetuate ridiculous behavior, or to even make them think that it is ok.
the day will come when you, too, will die. i long for the day to see your face in the newspaper, the only problem is they will be called a 'hero' by many. and i will be called a liar. we'll see.



published, here
'nomade's land'. pretty stoked.
i'm a half decent writer, i suppose. you know, having been a liberal artist for several years.

and, a peek into the future.
/pulsars.



i am sick of this class. all classes.
4 weeks.
then summer school.

intervene / add to at will

http://ilhuscouts.blogspot.com/
http://ilhuscouts.blogspot.com/
http://ilhuscouts.blogspot.com/
http://ilhuscouts.blogspot.com/
http://ilhuscouts.blogspot.com/

combined youth

i've been drawing silly things while watching silly movies





i am really enjoying the combined youth concept, of collaborating with my former selves to attempt the things i wish i was capable of doing then, and dispersing them to people i may never know,,,,,,,,,,,,

my bunnies look like strange hands,

i am waiting out february in my old old room north of the city. it has been 2 full days sans nosebleed and really, that has come to be something worth celebrating.

another thing worth celebrating :: voluntary and involuntary socialization!
i may have my gripes with vernissages but z is worth it. also, this saturday night / sunday morning is montreal's nuit blanche! this is my third year attending as a viewer, and despite the everything, i am still looking forward.

a wise chauncey once said ::
'i don't know what you've been huffing but there ain't no such thing as god'
trufax
so, don't do drugs?

spring spring spring. i think this is the first year yet where i am DYING for the season change. i have done little to no winter appreciation this year. i want yellow and green and blue. sunshine and that waxen smell. fewer layers and neater shoes. less frozen dogg poo in the alleys we rule. i also intend to establish a mini gallery at the end of the alley - i suppose i could do this now but snow proves a formidable enemy at the moment and will swallow the world if i am not careful because clearly i am in control of everything that happens in this city.

i have just to the right of me is a copy of francis picabia's 'i am a beautiful monster'. i owe most of my artistic uncareer to dada - guillaume appollinaire, tristan tzara, man ray, marcel duchamp, all have continually inspired me to keep thinking and keep making in revolt against the undergrad blues. everyday i am faced with the decision to throw in the embroidery hoop for a 'simpler' life and these men [funny, no women...] and their brilliant acheivements revive my interest in the FUCK YOU to our institutions. i always think to my selves 'well of course they can get away with doing crazy shit this was the early 20th century, times were different then' and catch my unknown logical and try to turn it into 'this is the early 21st century - just think of all the crazy shit i can get away with'. sure things are different, but i am not far off enough. time to get out, way out. state a few more interventions, blame it on the ilhu.

was an ill hu earlier this week. body shocks rock photobooth for multiple bloody noses.
too bad the university has a policy against using bodily fluids in art projects. nerdlingers.

Etsy Buy Handmade satyrinae