Watched the Democratic debate last night, live, on an actual television— while it was happening! (I usually watch next day on my computer machine.) Did a hasty little study of each candidate for fun, for levity.
After a very long day on trains and in stations, I made it. The situation and scale of the canals there remind me simultaneously of Berlin, Paris and a little A’dam. A very beautiful little city.
It was a day of dramatic skies and Wind Tegen— that's the Dutch term for when the wind is in your face no matter which way your are cycling! (Wind Mee is when the wind is at your back, sailing you along.)
I stayed past the last tram, so Wouter loaned me his bike and he rode on the back of Brandon’s. Wouter looked so at ease, perched cross-legged and leaning against Brandon’s backpack, whistling some tune. I shouted into the wind. “You look so relaxed!”. Through the rain, “I am relaxed!” and continued whistling.
In which a brief foray into an antiques shop unearthed some interesting new acquisitions for the archives.
An image from Le Musée de la Chasse et de la Nature, for an exhibit I'm looking forward to. Such a beautiful form. Google's (slightly weird) translation of the brief: Small misery gods took shape in Kyoto in 2015, during the artist 's residence at Villa Kujoyama. They fit into the continuity of the creative work around… Continue reading Les petits dieux de misère
Put the new set of watercolors to the test last night. Silly stuff; most of these began with lips as the point of departure. Result: a fair amount of drag, androgyny. (For some reason the two on the right turned out looking or seeming very like Fred Armisen.)
Z has given us an assignment; a prompt for writing. What's good for you, and why†. I've been trying to find a way to frame it, find an angle, but I think a list will do. A practical approach against missing a deadline*. The players: Creating, Reading, Writing, Moving, Listening, Traveling, Observing, Editing. Whys after the jump.
There was a woods across the street from the farm. On the far side of of a large corn field, then through an encircled meadow that remained un-tilled, too inaccessible for farming. A small woods through which ran a narrow, banked ribbon of stream. In winter it was the most beautiful place I could find. I'd make… Continue reading a long ago winter place
When I woke I discovered my heart cast shadows longer than dreams in places where we moved as children, cured of fear, and never looked back. Sometimes when I wake I write down my dreams, or the bits I can remember. If I wake with the territory intact, I map it. The drawings are invariably simple, as… Continue reading Cartography of the subconscious
e daggar art: THE MUSEUM 