Happy Bunny Joyous Day!

So the other day one of my good friends told me that reading my blog makers her depressed. She says my blog entries are suicidal, too dark and make her feel sad. So here is a blog post for you Jenny Lee. Yesterday I woke up and the first thing I noticed was the smell of springtime flowers floating through my open curtains. Sure it's the middle of winter but for some reason I felt like prancing around my room stark naked. So I put on some vivaldi and shed my sleeping cap and gown and oh it was a glorious time! Prancing and skipping and jumping about my chamber to Vivaldi's spring. The cool air against my flesh and a bounce to my step. Suddenly in the middle of a prance a fluffy pink bunny rabbit bounced through my door and twitched its tiny little nose. I bent down to the cute creature and said:
"Why hello mr rabbit, I am famished would you like to accompany me to lunch?"
To which the rabbit replied with a twitch of its nose and a bob of its tail:
"Alas I have just eaten and my stomach is full of carrots and onions! But good sir I have a pleasant idea."
"What is that Mr Rabbit?"
"Since you are in search of a lunch partner and I have already just stuffed myself with delicious garnishes, why don't you just eat me?"
And with a tiny twitch of its nose, the rabbit quickly snapped its neck and presented a delicious feast for my enjoyment.
After lunch I bounded down the stairs and out of my apartment. The homeless man outside wished me a joyous day and I wished him the same with a shine in my teeth and a glitter in my eye. I gleefully skipped down the avenue around losing lottery tickets and broken glass (surely from last night's bachhanalian festivities) I stopped at a chunky puddle of vomit which winked at me and I winked back knowingly. Oh what a glorious day! At the office I wanted to wish everyone a joyous Saturday but then I realized oh silly me it's Saturday and there is nobody even present! So instead I lept from cubicle to cubicle wishing every stapler and keyboard a splendid hello until I reached the cubicle of Peter the office intern who in fact was present even on such a glorious Saturday afternoon.
"Why hello Peter my friend, isn't it a beautiful Saturday afternoon?"
"Why are you naked?"
"Why Peter, I need not clothes to be mineself!"
But Peter did not share in my joy. He was grouchy and grumbly and mumbly. The kind who writes depressing entries in his electronic journal. Oh poor Peter. He shall never be happy, he shall never share in my joy and bliss and sunshine rays!
I left the office and gleefully skipped home wishing the homeless man outside a Joyous evening.
Oh what a day wht a day what a glorious day!

33 Black.

I was thinking ealier about the increasing ammount of blockage in my right nostril and the Atlantic City boy who bet it all on the cancer in his leg and all of the loneliest people in this world and the debate comes to mind between what's worth more...personal sucess or the feeling of being loved. The girl next to me laughs but when she does I instictively turn because it sounds like she is crying. What a horrible illness. To sounds like you are crying when actually you are laughing. Her boyfirend says he wants a beer and there she goes crying again. Or is she laughing? Laughing at his alchoholic tendencies. Maybe she is amused by the way he slurs his words. Or the way his palm strikes her milky face night after the night he suspects infedelity. Why is it that the only place cancer ridden boy feels safe is Atlantic City? Maybe it's the one place where no one feels safe. Where depending on the spin of a roullette wheel anybody could be just as well off. And maybe we are all growing a cancer deep inside of us. The girl who laughs as if she is crying, the blockage in my right nostril, the boy who gambles on life...

Open up your heart

Last night, my buddy Devin and I went to see the rapture at the Henry Fonda theater in Hollywood. We arrived early so as to secure a good standing place before the show. At this point I notice that everyone around us is like 18 and is either a crazy little girl with a black headband or a beefy looking dude. I guess in New York, the crowd at concerts tends to be a little older. So we watch the first band "The Presets" which pretty much suck. All their music is sequenced and they sound like Joy Division after a ketamine binge. At this point I am wondering about the current state of so called "indie" music. At a show sponsored by KROQ and filled with 16 year olds out on thanksgiving break who were probably listening to Fall Out Boy on the car ride over, I am pondering the current state of so called "indie" rock. That is until the rapture come on. The rapture are a rare sort of band that manages to sound amazing live and maintain a fun nonpretentious stage presence. They seem like the kind of guys you would actually want to hang out with. And they can all play their instruments. NO SEQUENCING!

So about halfway through the rapture show I notice that dev's disappeared. It was right after some beefy dudes warned me that "bro there's gonna be moshing here so watch out" And moshing there was. Again moshing at the indie rock show? Maybe at the slayer show but seriously kids, moshing to the rapture? Anyways so Devin has disappeared but wait no there he is off to the side of the stage talking to this cute girl. Wow good job Devin. Somehow amidst the sea of psycho KROQ'ers Devin manages to chat up a girl. So the concert comes to a close and I find Devin who is bidding the girl adieu. But he doesn't look all that excited or happy. This is not the face of someone who has a new number burning in his pocket. I can see this. And so I ask the obvious "Hey man so did you get her number?" Devin looked shell shocked. LIke he had just seen an indie ghost! Or actually he had seen an indie baby. Because this girl was 17....and therefore 7 years younger than Devin. And jailbait! Yikes! Apparently the conversation went something like this: Both were making comments about the crowd and how strange it was. Devin said he felt like an old man. The girl said "you're not that old!" and then it came out that she was 17 and he was 24 to which she replied "all my friends are like a couple years older than you." I want to know who the 34 year old guys are that hang out with 17 year olds. That's pretty gross. So would it have been wrong for Devin to get that girls number? What do you think? I mean he is only 24 and she is 17. In maybe less than a year it would be legal. But also it's legal right now as long he doesn't "get himself into it" (rapture quote) wink.
anyways since this post is alot about devin here is a movie that we made together once upon a time in a land far far away.

The Desert

The minute I stepped off the plane and onto Los Angeles (well Burbank) soil I noticed a change in the air. Something about the wind here, the desert, it feels dusty and serene. The wind has weight here, like it's pulling at your hair and face but not stinging or chapping it. I stick my head out of the car going 60 on Venice boulevard and I feel like riding a horde of mutant buffallo into a giant spinning orange tornado.

Foodcourt Woes

So it's official. The westside pavillion foodcourt is falling into a state of decrepit downfall. All that is left is korean, japanese, mexican salad. What happened to the glorious 1980's foodcourt golden era? Where can a good guy go to get some pre-packaged styrofoam divided deep fried food served on a plastic tray. What is happening to America?

A Long Wednesday Delayed

I write this post from the airport. Today I awoke and got all my things together and packed my bags. I left my apartment with two hours to get to the airport. Usually this is enough time to get to JFK, even with traffic. Do you sense the impending doom? So I was walking down the street to quickly return the "Notorious Bettie Page" Dvd I forgot to return the day before and I notice an extreme lack of cabs. Maybe this is just in my mind I tell myself. Two hours is fine! That's plenty of time! So I get out of Kim's and walk up st marks towards 3rd avenue looking for a cab. Nothing. Ok I'll try 3rd there are always cabs on 3rd avenue. Taken. Ok how about 4th avenue. I roll my wheely luggage up the gravel road bouncing plastic chunks off the wheels. 15 minutes in. All the cabs are taken. 20 minutes. Finally a cab stops next to me and asks where I'm going. "JFK" and I move to get into the cab. The driver turns back to his wheel and drives off before I can even lift my luggage off the sidewalk. Seriously. He just left me there because he didn't want to drive to the airport. That is illegal by the way. So I walk around a little more and begin to get really nervous. I still have plenty of time but it's just the nerves starting to get to me. Finally a cab drives up that is off duty but the guy is nice enough to take me to JFK. It's probably close to where he is dropping off his cab for the night. The cab driver says "I'll take you to JFK but I have to warn you, there is alot of traffic right now." Shit. Well even with lots of traffic it shouldn't take more than an hour. Right? So we are off and the cab driver is great, he's swerving around cars and honking and getting the finger thrown at him more times than Donald Rumsfeld at a peace rally. Everything is going great until we hit the expressway. And that's where things begin to go wrong. And I mean really wrong. It was probably the smoke pouring from the hood of the cab. I really hoped it was a magical illusion and this cab driver was an amature magician. I was hoping that at any moment he would turn around and yell "I'm just kidding!" But unfortunately he did not. And you can't imagine how hard it is to find a free cab on an expressway. SO needless to say it's now 6:47 and my flight left at 445 now i'm delayed and waiting for the new flight. It's going to be a long wednesday.

Underwater (I Found Your Face)

So I am going to begin a new project featuring people dunking their heads into water. The faces will appear almost as if they are drowning in watery graves. As you approach these tubes mounted on a dark wall, the faces will poke through the water and stare at you holding their breath while holding their eyes wide open. Almost like a watery staring/breath holding contest. I want it to look really blue and black. I've been really into the blue/black look lately. Or maybe they will look like portholes as if you are on a giant ship and there are these weird ghostly faces peeking in from the ocean looking at you. I like the idea of the viewer being watched by the art. Sort of like a watery silent film star screaming for your attention.
These are some sample photos I found online by a photographer named SnoopRat. I tinted them in photoshop to show what kind of effect I hope to achieve.

Easy rider:Blog from a bus

I am writing this from a bus
it went dark
on the way
to
atlantic city

5 to 1 1 in 5

I was eating lunch today and there was this guy slurping his spaghetti out of his plate and his head was hung so low into the plate that his chin would dip slightly in the sauce everytime he bent down for a slurp. He didn't seem to notice.

My first and most immediate reaction was to be disgusted. Here was a guy so busy, so engrossed in life or work or thought that he was shovelling noodles into his mouth like a snake handler cramming 35 snakes into a cigar box. And with every slurp of a new wet spaghetti strand, his chin burned a deeper tone of saucy crimson red. But he didn't seem to notice.

I on the other hand could not stop watching. It was a beautiful and hideous display. It reminded me of a scene from Mathew Barney's cremaster cycle. As the man chordled his final slurp I desperately hoped that he would forget to wipe his chin and walk around all day with the bloody looking mess decorating his chin but to my dismay, he quickly swiped the sauce from his face and practically ran out of the pizza place.

I think this scene was especially interesting to me because I have weird issues with food. If I dont have time to sit down and actually enjoy the act of eating, I tend to just skip the food altogether. I really enjoy relaxing and talking with people while I eat and I can't imagine becoming a human food vaccum, slurping down nutrients like a hungry plant.

Drillin for a livin'

So I am currently constructing something called the memoryphone. It is a musical instrument based on the design of an organ grinder. More Info Here So last night I was using a heavy piece of machinery known as a drill press. You know the kind of machine you need to wear goggles so the splintering wood chunks dont' fly into your eye. The kind of machine they make horror movies about (ahem Body Double) The kind of machine you should not be drinking while operating. However this didn't stop my buddy who was also working in the shop from offering me a bottle of wine while drilling! It's like I'm diffusing a bomb and trying to decide between the red and blue wire and sweat is pouring down my brow and the time is ticking down and wait oh here buddy have a drink! NO. There are certain situations where a drink is a definite bad idea. So I thought I would make a list of other situations in which I feel it would be innapropriate to be offered a drink:
1. Riding a bicycle in New York City traffic
2. Swimming with a killer whale in a tank full of seals
3. Any sort of Trapeeze work
4. Running in the special olympics
5. Driving a schoolbus
6. AA meetings
7. Climbing at high altitudes
8. Any sort of religious cult meeting (especially Kool-Aid drinks)

But of course I couldn't wait to have some wine and now thanks to mr drill press I have a huge yet stylish hole in the middle of my hand. That's in this season though. The bloody gash you know. I swear.

When planets crash into the sun

Tonight I got home after soldering for 8 hours and thought I was going to go directly to sleep. Actually I really didn't want to go to sleep at all. I wanted a break. Some fun. But as I got home and set my bag down and sat on my bed I felt increadibly tired. It was 1230, I was ready for bed. So what did I do?

I went out. And it was very pleasant. The air has turned crisp and breezy and the leaves crunch and twist under my shoes on the pavement. The air is buzzing with people on friday night in New York City and everything feels alive and undulating. A mass hysteria or is it belligerance? Either way it's still interesting to see. Sleep is overrated.

It's now 5:33 am. Tonight I saw MIT students dancing to hip hop, a man smash a beer bottle over someones head at a bar, an awkward but pleasant encounter with a friend from last summer, and the Turkish theory of phenomenon. Yes this makes no sense whatsoever, but I've come to the conclusion that life itself makes absolutely no sense whatsoever most of the time. And that's fine. Let's stop trying to find meaning in everything and just enjoy things for a while. Sounds a bit libertine doesn't it? But coincidence and chance and spontenaiety are often what drive the most important turning points in our lives. You could spend your entire life trying to achieve your life's purpose or goal. You could spend everyday in the lab, in the office, on the set, studying the stock market, reading medical journals...and then one day you look right instead of left and wham! you are hit by a greyhound and all your hard work and dedication is tossed in the air and flattened on the road.

I'm not saying you shouldn't try, I'm just saying next time it's 1230 and you are ready to go to sleep, make sure you really want to be sleeping. Do what you want, don't do what you should. And that's my inspirational rant of the night. Goodnight vampires and good morning early birds.

I'm a vampire

It's 522am and I'm a vampire baby!

I don't know what it is about the night that keeps me so awake but I love it. There is something about the quiet. I can't imagine only being alive when it's noisy.

Back Again (with a mouse in the house)

Ok so I have officially decided to start this engine up again. It's good to have a blog I think? Maybe it is. Maybe not. Ok I'm done good bye.

No ok I'm back now and here's been what's up. I have been working on several projects. Most of them video installation type things with screens and projectors and little people in bottles. It should be crazy. I'm also working on something called the memoryphone which is a musical instrument/ video player. hot Hot hot.

In personal news. I believe there is a mouse in my apartment. I was washing a cup the other day and out of the corner of my eye i noticed something flash by on the floor. It was like a scene out of a really small horror movie. I was thinking about it. Mice are pretty cute but when they are in your house they suddenly aren't cute anymore. If you put the mouse in a tank it would be cute. But if it's free than it's vermin. This applies to some humans as well.

Halloween was pretty great. Me and ranny went costume shopping and purchased some good suits. Then for actualy Halloween I ended up working till 1am and then went to the Motherfucker party at the Roxy down by the water on the westside. That place is totally insane. There were people naked and covered in blood. good old pagan fun you know? At some point they turned off the lights and put on Carrie and played the shower scene. However when the clip ended and the lights came back on, I noticed that directly to my left there were two gentlemen engaging in some halloween fellatio. Yes right there on the dancefloor. Only feet from where I was standing. Who does that? Especially during carrie?!

On another note I finally removed my air conditioner from my window and now I think it I may have been a mistake. Yes it's still warm in New York. It's going to be a hot nuclear winter boys and girls. But it's fun to be back in the blog.