oh, renoir

trash is for anyone who wants it, who picks it up. it's a specific question with an unclear purpose; it's maybe a flirtatious thing to ask?
—harold brodkey

stoned in space. zeus. christ. it has always been rock and so it is and so it shall be. within the context of neo rock we must open up our eyes and seize and rend the veil of smoke which man calls order. pollution is a necessary result of the inability of man to reform and transform waste.
the transformation of waste
the transformation of waste
the transformation of waste
the transformation of waste is perhaps the oldest pre-occupation of man. man being the chosen alloy, he must be reconnected—via shit, at all cost. inherent with(in) us is the dream of the task of the alchemist to create from the clay of man. and to re-create from excretion of man pure and then soft and then solid gold.
—patti smith

the power of objects. power between objects. and power between objects and people. the magick of strong emergence. transubstantiation. what genet did with words. this excites me, so i pick it up and put it next to this other thing that excites me, and then i tell you a story and the story excites you excites me excites the object.

i like objects, but i don't have/keep a lot, so it's nice to be able to encounter objects in yr friend's bedroom or to go to a gallery and see some nice objects.

i first saw ethan's show when it was at envoy this past september. then i went and got some ice cream. if you're in new jersey now, i might suggest you do the same.

LOOKIN AT
augmented reality in a contact lens
henry crouch
internet threatens rare species
is it wrong to swim with dolphins?
johansson / heidi nilausen
kit webster - enigmatica
mars moon phobos seen in detail by european probe
monkeys learn more from females
tiny vipers - dreamer

LISTENIN TO
dazzle ships
dinosaurs are still alive
robyn - fembot
sleighbells

2010-03-20T13:32:00.000-04:00

EMERALD CITY:
I was third in the birth order, a position typically reserved for the invisible child. I was a painfully shy girl, quiet, delicate, observant and cautious but had a bold inner life and a fierce attraction to beauty.
—Natalie Merchant

2010-03-14T00:00:00.001-05:00

NOCTURNES:
leaving ghosts
reflections and refractions of light in diamonds
buildings built like trees, nomads of the golden sand

thank god i'm an acid freak
thank god i'm a country girl

this parking lot could be a hardwood floor
these pants could be a dress
this walk could be you and mom dancing in the living room

i want you walking around me
i want you smelling of laundry

feel the vibration. this is a picture of texture, of hair and leather:
the new wound
the bind of being bound
a big blackbird—sticky and spinning candied rope of spun sugar—is suspended in the middle of the room. i've been ignoring it

we meet each other in the center. i think of what you are, and in so doing, give you away

IN DREAMS (JANUARY + FEBRUARY):
taking the elevator up in tribeca. the door stops in between floors. i do pullups holding on somehow. you hold on to me. we get to the top where my room is. i have perfected the lighting. but the electricity is not working. we are just sitting in the dark. waiting for the lights to come on

you are moving away cuz you were cast

the two of you are riding the blue tide. i don't know what that means. but the beach and the rest of the earth is covered in snow

the driver's side door of a red pickup truck is slammed in my face

we are both working as hustlers to the same famous artist

we're sitting in a chamber on a boat and i am cold. you have designs on me and slowly move yr body under mine in a sitting position. this warms me up

LOOKIN AT:
ari marcopoulos
björk talking about her tv
black cobra gang steals selection of small cakes
blue bottle coffee in brooklyn raises brewing to a science
cottweiler
dead pigs used to investigate dead zones
dean chalkley
deep sea fish eat their greens
dinosaur extinction link to crater confirmed
earth's true colours in nasa's blue marble images
elijah burgher
eternal order of the sons of peregrine
hugging salford university students break world record
james lourenco
laurent milon
lip reading mobile promises end to noisy phone calls
memory marathon
moon duo - killing time
new jersey snow sculpture gets frosty reception
olaf otto becker
oliver schwarzwald
probe may have found cosmic dust
ripped: t-shirts from the underground
sex infection frankness is key to long relationship
simon birk
swedes extend warm embrace to cuddle party movement
swiss ask whether animals need lawyers
vogue hommes jajpn - julius gerhardt by josh olins
yoko - a quiet revolution

LISTENIN TO:
bitters
chills - pink frost
class actress
cosmetics
damien jurado - where lies my tarp
darwin deez
leo carrillo
lou reed - ecstasy
morning becomes eclectic - el perro del mar + taken by trees
peepholes
pure ecstasy
robyn - dancehall queen
sabbath assembly
summer camp
surfer blood
throwing muses - milan + sunray venus
veronic falls
woods

2010-03-13T23:35:00.000-05:00

Saturday Night Facts Of Life -...

2010-03-01T00:00:00.001-05:00

nocturnes:
STARS
DISPENSING
STARS

my little apsara
whom i conjure
solve et coagula
from an unmade bed
and dream of honeypot full of gold
golden rainbow
and dream of ice cream
raspberry ripple

echolocating me
through the shuttle of the loom of time
through a vale of tears, empty-handed

unfolding you like a paper doll
a profusion of flowers
be close
but not inside

lookin at:
alexandr kargaltsev
bat for lashes - all i need
best beers in sweden right now
cynthia macadams - feminist portraits, 1974-1977
daniel palillo
david bowie - be my wife
dope smoker reports psychedelic hash to police
elephant secret language clues
four paws campaign - rabbits out of the cages! uk
how much is a human body worth?
isabel mastache
jan durina
luzinterruptus
mary virginia carmack
sawa shoes
space trees have landed
woman from teesside jailed after sex with 12-year-old

listenin to:
beach house - the arrangement
drew danburry
dum dum girls - d.a.l.
joel alme
jonna lee
mathemagic
nada surf - electrocution
primary 1
tracey thorn
travis jeppesen - wolf at the door

2010-02-24T14:12:00.000-05:00

2010-02-22T00:00:00.000-05:00

nocturnes:
falling asleep. how it used to be. no time, no place. just a pile of fatigues in grass. and butterflies at our eyes. burns. bits of skin. it's not possessive anymore. no smothering son. no river death girl. just the honest and modest amorality of light and emotion. mooooooooove.

lookin at:
abiah hostvedt by anthony cunanan
augmented reality tattoo
common projects
cruising for sex
dazed and confused - darryl sharp by linda brownlee
dorset man claims to be world's oldest paperboy
first images from nasa's wise infrared sky probe
flexible working good for heart and soul
fredrik färg
from writer with love
happiness wards off heart disease
international space station gets new observation deck
kasper bjorke - efficient machine
line depping
nap boosts brain learning power
ones2watch - brian shimansky + sebastian sauve by duane nasis
petrou\man
sweden's top ten tasty buns
zoo - darryl sharp by dancian

listenin to:
bobby birdman - only for a while
distillers - ask the angels
fingers inc - never no more lonely
girls - the end of the world
sunny ozuna - smile now, cry later
tender forever - no snare

2010-02-15T00:00:00.000-05:00

nocturnes:
pine incense is burning and i'm forgetting how the world looks like. causing as much sorrow. creating a block that's justified. not necessarily tender and sweet. la la la la. everything's much lower and flatter, like how boring the drive was when you did it all the time and all the cars had bike racks, and that's what i'm forgetting.

music low, slow, soft, smooth. ash wood and leather. asocial animals. rolling around in a pile of jeans. arms of line and volume. sticky networking. louise bourgeois' notebooks. spreading you out on a beautiful table. polarization and discipline. sleek little sneakers. smoking grass in yr briefs. brief puffs. whispers of hair.

call me pale. i'm waving a purple scarf in the wind. a sacred scarab fluttering dead wings on dirty bits of snow.

yr vocal chords convey a physical space. i can tell we're in a vacant lot and it's sexy. i can see the not knowing, like a magnet, in yr eyes. so keep me on the periphery.

punks are romantic
concordance is like a prayer
to write without sentiment or lying seems impossible

lookin at:
belle + sebastian - wrapped up in books
brain clue may explain condition's hug avoidance
climate change will make world more fragrant
corroboree
d.a.t.e.
exercise cuts risk of developing painful gallstones
food chains disrupted by earlier arrival of spring
giant bizarre deep sea fish filmed in gulf of mexico
haute romantics
high-energy large hadron collider results published
hugh holland
ice house detroit
jan von holleben
jonsi - go do
julia chiang
niall o'brien
rintala eggertsson architects - onsen bath boat
sweet-toothed children may have depression
whirlwind heat - purple

listenin to:
bo ningen
80kidz
evan voytas
kids on tv
oOoOO
velvet davenport
we are the world
wild beasts
yacht - holiday

2010-02-14T00:00:00.000-05:00

2010-02-07T00:00:00.002-05:00

nocturnes:
i was born in the woods. i came from the woods. i come in the woods. i know lots and i wanna show you what i know and how i know. i know cuz i learnt and i learnt cuz i had to. i am showing you the artifice that makes me invisible, you know what i mean?

hit songs for lovers is not a hit no more. yr silence is overrated.

reach down. hand me a bowl full of candy. freshly shorn naked neck exposed. encased in a ball-baring chain. removing a red tie. tying it like a scarf. a red bolt of lightning. gun-shooting words.

you're so clean, you must be here to score. and you're right-handed, so, you know . . .

i came into a shot glass and made you drink it. an impression of boyish insouciance:

lookin at:
andy warhol photos are donated to us colleges
can the power of thought stop you ageing?
exorcism chapel opened in mexico
farmer loses high court fight to save hidden castle
fish oil supplements beat psychotic mental illness
geoffrey cooper - geocentric
grace jones - tomorrow
healthier lifestyles may add more years of bad health
hubble spots pluto blushing in space
insects migrate in wind highways
internet addiction linked to depression
is morrissey a poet?
keith haring x tommy hilfiger footwear
lemming
lucienne day
marina + the diamonds + gonzales - hollywood
matilda ringner
matthieu lavanchy
miranda july - interview
more cat owners have degrees than dog-lovers
morrissey - speedway
naples pizza makers celebrate eu trademark status
rescued blinded turtle homer is flown to newquay home
robyn: sweden's no1 style icon
saturn mission extended again
shuttle endeavour set for second launch attempt
sonic youth - death valley 69 ft. lydia lunch
strange powers
st. vincent - laughing with a mouth of blood
sunbathing ups men's testosterone
tamaryn - return to surrender
vegetative state patients can respond to questions
what is nostalgia good for?
xiu xiu - dear god, i hate myself
xiu xiu - la blogotheque

listenin to:
anna von hausswolff
beach house - daytrotter
feathers
gil scott-heron - i'm new here
kraftwerk - radioactivity
lo-fi-fnk
u.s. girls

2010-01-31T00:00:00.002-05:00

nocturnes:
i expected to feel the fx of the moon this weekend—and i did—but i also felt ghosts and tree stumps (the sexiness of a cut tree) and a lot of swords and they all felt pretty great, too. and now i'm looking forward to sleep bookended by breakfasts.

you look accordingly skeptical
the correct term would be fucked up:

lookin at:
adjoun.nl
astronomers hopeful of detecting extra-terrestrial life
beach house - zebra
beautiful darling
california protects apollo 11 landing site on moon
dinosaur had ginger feathers
emotional signals cross cultures
happiness revisited: does money make us happy after all?
how to whip up the perfect frothy frog meringue nest
jennifer doyle - difficulty, part 1: deceptive forms of simplicity
jenny holzer - temporary tattoos
malafor - blow sofa
michael landy: perfecting the art of destruction
new york doll
obama cancels moon return project
sceptics stage homeopathy overdose
supersized monarch butterflies evolved to fly far
thatcher on 28-egg diet ahead of 1979 election
word is out
world's most famous unseen diamond

listenin to:
brilliant colors
caribou
carla morrison
c90s
goldfrapp
lali puna - remember
silk flowers
stephin merritt - not one of us

2010-01-26T00:00:00.001-05:00

for radio ethiopia, the transfused, and tigertown:

oh, renoir #3: feeling the space. get it here.

2010-01-25T16:40:00.000-05:00

if you want to know how to do it right

2010-01-24T00:00:00.000-05:00

nocturnes:
the inventor of the most infamous machine gun says he wanted to be a poet in his youth

the anatomy of distance is romance. wait, i'm sorry, that sounds really vague, doesn't it? but maybe you understand. what i wanted was a specific metaphor:

vicissitude

motive of love

hemeroscopium

anchor made of sand

holding you is like the new past

you are nothing but a place where dust is dancing

how suddenly it seems our life together has escaped from us so entirely

the pleasantness of a place, the strength of an oath, the ability of a person

water, corsage, related, shelter, fairytale, landscapes, almost safe, summer camp

to the genius of the people, to the genius of this place, to the genius of our master

lookin at:
abiah hostvedt, jamil ramirez, + isaiah colbert by takahiro ogawa
baggy
candy magazine - roy pratt, collin tennant, + clinton weber by david armstrong
doomsday clock
elding oscarson
esa mission concepts vie for position
experts stunned by swan divorce at slimbridge wetland
fever ray tar emot priset för Årets dans på p3 guld
frankie morello
how did quakers conquer the british sweet shop?
jorge manilla
just kids: punk icon patti smith looks back
meet the creatures that live beyond the abyss
meteorite colour mystery solved
michel omar
patti smith - the beginning
physical exercise helps brains grow, mouse study finds
queer music heritage
quinnford + scout
rintala eggertsson architects
ruth van beek
spain aims to boost eu gender equality
stanton miranda - love will tear us apart
staygold + robyn, spank rock + damien adore - backseat
xx - vcr

listenin to:
beaters
david byrne + fatboy slim - please don't (feat santigold)
john cale - waiting for my man (feat patti smith)
missions
patti smith - fire of unknown origin
patti smith - just like you
patti smith - kimberly (live 1976)
thick pigeon - subway

2010-01-19T00:00:00.000-05:00

2010-01-16T14:13:00.031-05:00

nocturnes:
we will survive as thieves
we will survive as freaks

right/rite
days/daze
gays/gaze
chic/sheik
seen/scene
bandage/bondage
seamless/seem-less
masturbate/masticate
cosmologist/cosmetologist

i don, i try it on
i am in michigan, again
it's mine, and i keep it inside
it's a rat race, taking last place
we love to hear repetition, love the feeling of over and over again

lookin at:
courtney love - hold on to me
crispin glover on late night with david letterman 28 july 1987
designby8 - artime
gay on the range
givenchy men's spring 2010
green day - christie road
ilkka halso
junk de luxe
kjellgren kaminsky
lucien pellat finet
mark ther
markus bollingmo
men - simultaneously
rafael vinoly architects - the new domino
spray - alex bennett, callum turner, + sid ellisdon by bella howard
tiger of sweden
visiondivision

listenin to:
active child
brian jonestown massacre - new kind of sick
dum dum girls - jail la la
francis
happy birthday
jeff mangum - sign the dotted line
jj - let go / my way
jj - pure shores / the truth
madrid
nite funk - am i gonna make it
past lives
tanlines
twin sister

2010-01-10T00:00:00.001-05:00

nocturnes:
reconstituting my days

the last time you touched my cock
it's a gesture, dear, not a recipe

bending you over a folio of folding chairs in the basement of a rare books collection. vaseline. moth-eaten balls. smells like formaldehyde

in dreams (dec):
i'm driving my grandmother's manual shift car. the boot is full of compost. somewhere in the compost is a chanel bracelet. i could draw it for you. it came from the ocean where we had been earlier, where the seafoam surfspray was brushing my ribs

yr sickness is giving you a friar tuck haircut

auntie is in a documentary professing the wonders of western buddhism

you have had too much fun this week

i dream the temperature is sixty-eight degrees fahrenheit. when i wake up it's really eighteen. you would never love me now

i was sleeping in yr bed in the library and i did it there and i got in trouble. i have a couple of my own teeth that i'm binding in gold wire and i will wear around my neck on a chain

lookin at:
cleopatra's eye make-up had health benefits
clubfeet - count yr lovers
eddie ness
erik de vahl - friendly fire
ffw mag! - pablo lorenzatto by fabio bartlett
funbrella
girls - heartbreaker
hafsteinn juliusson
islands - no you don't
katharina fritsch
kiki smith + deborah gans - museum @ eldridge st
li wei
markus georg
neanderthal make-up containers discovered
one in six children have difficulty learning to talk
pontus lidberg - the rain
prince's trust fears jobless youth face mental scars
rokin
sruli recht - ring
survival of the fittest: exercise can fight ageing
taking off
teresa monachino - around the world with the bodoni family
urnatur
vincent fournier
white ribbon
xx: a sculpture of the album
yochai matos

listenin to:
autechre
ballet
brahms
bye bye bicycle
clifton
eluvium
hanne hukkelberg
knife + mt sims + planningtorock - colouring of pigeons
lake
lesley gore - i'm coolin, no foolin
love is all - kungen
pocketknife
scanners
sinead o'connor + karen finley - jump in the river
wake
warpaint
white hinterland
xiu xiu - gray death

2010-01-02T14:25:00.000-05:00

2009-12-31T23:59:00.000-05:00

6 different ways

7 ways of going

count the nights, count the days
you try to show that nothing stays, but
i'm still hanging around

we're gonna be waiting for a long time, but it'll be worth it when we find what we find.

2009-12-27T00:00:00.000-05:00

nocturnes:
candidness is just as much (if not more) about form as it is about content

and so

i can imagine myself licking yr forehead

lookin at:
gq russia #11 - stas svetlichnyy by erez sabag
house of sweden - our capital's hidden gem
molecules and synapses cement memories say scientists
swedish xmas straw goat burnt
tetu magazine - simon nessman by taki bibelas
thou shalt shoplift says priest
toshiba - escargot vacuum

listenin to:
bear in heaven - dust cloud
dick diver
recent memory
sheahan drive
sonny + the sunsets
tenderfist

2009-12-26T11:15:00.001-05:00

2009-12-20T16:20:00.001-05:00

a saint in any form:

nocturnes:
i was disoriented in a train station. turning circles. walking lines. i fell into a car and you were there. it must have been six in the morning. i don't know what time it was. i sat down. i sat next to you. i sat backward on the train and suddenly . . . i sat down. maybe you were coming from the gym. you were awake and clean and you were wearing a lot of hoods. yr track pants were rubbing against my leg. the music sounded like gym music. and yr hair was shorn. i can almost see you handcuffed to the handholds, splayed at right angles worthy of modernist movements (and in such colour!). what i mean to say is that there is an abstract richness about you.

no, but seriously, the truth of the matter is
it's cold,
i'm hungry,
my pants smell like pee,
and if i saw you accidentally,
i'd probably start to cry.

conjuring and conveying. but it's really weird and kinda hard. cuz on the one hand, i'm really into the materialities of feelings, like, the physical imprints. but on the other hand, i'm basing this on unfounded imagination. elevation is one word. transcendence might be another (but i'm still not certain). commuting, definitely. like, the train, the bridge—in between spaces where you can, like, really hope for that intervention that keeps you from yr destination or takes you to a new one.

i wanted this to be a decision, but now it's just a disadvantage.

lookin at:
atlas sound - quick canal
boat could explore saturn moon
data to expose ghost mountains
deepest volcano caught on pacific ocean video
diller scofidio + renfro - hirshhorn museum bubble
first glimpse of dark matter
fried egg may be impact crater
i blame coco - caesar
jakob hellman
life term for homophobic murder
matias faldbakken
moz apologises for swords, hopes for a steadier 2010
obscur
patti smith at art basel
patti smith at pratt
platonov pavel
spanish dig fails to find grave of poet lorca
stoned wallabies make crop circles
super-earths orbit nearby stars
twist portable espresso machine

listenin to:
beach fossils
el perro del mar - change of heart (rakamonie remix)
family band
millionyoung
mvsclz
notwist - come in
yellowfever

2009-12-13T00:00:00.004-05:00

nocturnes:
i am usually always comparing almost every social relation i have to this and asking myself who is who.

---

i'm throwin these keys away
cuz they were never openin
a door you were walkin through
i was never headin home
this way with you
anyway

alone and without money
i could be yr silent film star
and you could animate me with yr piano music
and we could live together bravely and patiently

---

every nite on manhattan
every nite on an island
how many?
there are such things as stupid questions
i should know cuz i ask them

---

let me
gently
use you

my sex
between
yr eyes

---

the way into my pants is through the mixtape transition from black eyes' eternal life to the goxxip's and you know

lookin at:
ancient site reveals signs of mass cannibalism
artist wright wins turner prize
bischof design - designated public urination area
deep space x-rays
elizabeth fraser: the cocteau twins and me
hero zine - callum wilson by leon mark
hubble sees most distant galaxies
humans have six-hour window to erase memories of fear
jim skull
la belle personne
massive attack - paradise circus
pk arkitektar
portishead - chase the tear
shigeki fujishiro design - adidas stansmith remake
sruli recht - carbon dater
taken by trees - anna

listenin to:
boat club
gigi
jónsi - boy lilikoi
memoryhouse
women of the avant-garde

2009-12-06T00:00:00.000-05:00

nocturnes:

class dictates our choice of partners and our choice of positions. when fear, shame and prudery condemn the poor and ignorant to copulate in the dark, it must be obvious that sexual sophistication is a by-product of education. the primal nakedness of lovers is a phenomenon of the middle class in cold climates; in northern winters, naked lovers must be able to afford to heat their bedrooms.

—angela carter

one dressed and one not. what does this say about me? obviously. you are clean and well-dressed and you've just emerged from yr hotel room. sneakers and a brightly coloured backpack. some sort of woolen topcoat. nice jeans.

and i'm:

panic of the square
anxiety of articulation
jimi hendrix's boyfriend

in dreams (nov)
i'm at a wedding with el perro del mar, lykke li, and robyn. el perro gives me a big kiss that leaves lippie stains on my face.

lookin at:
another man - decadence to dystopia by leblon
best lgbt books of 2009: 56 writers select their favourites
delphic - doubt
dtours
feld hommes - aj & steffen by markus pritzi
kit men keung - long-d dual time wall clock
leon mark
lhoas & lhoas architectes
luxury scandinavian wilderness
marilyn monroe film shows actress smoking marijuana
skunk bigger psychosis risk than other cannabis types
sweden woman's murder committed by elk not husband
tori amos on midwinter graces, family connections, and the birth of light
vnfold zine - cockfight

listenin to:
giana factory
hollow tongues
o. children
reading rainbow
spider and the webs
unkle

2009-11-29T00:00:00.000-05:00

nocturnes:
a scar extends from above yr heart down the front of yr left arm. it is where i broke you in. it is my saturnalia.

ok so i think i'm startin to get it. the difference is between sufficiency and surplus. between sated and surfeit. i am always already hungry and haunted. this pleasant addition. you're either like a key in a keyhole or a novelty switchplate. one isn't necessarily more valuable than the other, jus maybe more utilitarian. but even decorated sheds have interiors.

lookin at:
acid oceans leave fish at more risk from predators
anti-gay cleric talk canceled
child abuse speeds up body's ageing process
fever ray - keep the streets empty
german robin hood bankers gets suspended sentence
jacob coupe by scott trindle
lavender diamond - like a prayer
martin margiela men's accessories a/w 09 collection
police sceptical of rape victims from poor areas
roxy: the last dance
tavia nyong'o - do you want queer theory (or do you want thew truth)? intersections of punk and queer in the 1970s
yoko - waiting for the d train

listenin to:
black flag - bastard in love
casual dots - hooded
chicks on speed - coventry
damian and puzzy france
duldung - antyziomalski
heidi mortenson
jean genet
kristofski kabuki
lorena & the bobbits
marzipan marzipan
näd mike ft sexy sush - girlfriend
ramones - 53rd & 3rd
rampant peluca
scream club
soft pink truth
sta!
vile vile creatures

2009-11-22T00:00:00.001-05:00

nocturnes:
this is where it gets simple. no. don't sell yrself short, kid. i'm only seeing you in pictures, fragments. a wisp of hair that curls toward yr ear. you're cradling a book and i'm concentrating on this vein or artery that's accentuated by the pressure on yr thumb. a lot of tantalizing nerves. biting yr fingernails. grinding yr teeth and i like how this makes yr jaw look. all in conflict with some small delicate features. collar turned up against the cold. patti found you. then david found you. and i haven't really found you. but you're sorta making yrself apparent to me:

everyone knows something about something. the question is not, "what do you know?" or "how well do you know it?" but, "how do you express what you know?"

haikus:
sometimes you smell like
mothballs and i just want to
go rollerskating

dreamt that you were there
all my boyfriends too, we were
foxes in the snow

lookin at:
adidas samba x madsaki trainer
andrey bartenev
anna barriball
bardot appeal over animal slaughter at nepal festival
call for domestic abuse register
creepers - baby's on fire
daniel barrow
eklatant
hypnosis has real brain effect
live neutral milk hotel video
maison martin margiela x michael stipe
museum of bellas artes - who do you love
mutant genes key to long life
120 minutes in stockholm
passions - i'm in love with a german film star
plastic chemicals feminise boys
struck! magazine
transsexual linked to italy's sex scandal found dead
travel queeries
uk children trafficked for sex
us man jailed for thai sex abuse
young sun han
yuri pleskun by juergen teller

listenin to:
beach house - norway
fresh & onlys
john maus
john yoko & lali puna - papa was a rodeo
youngfuck

2009-11-15T00:00:00.000-05:00

nocturnes:
although people who experience marginalization might like to be more "grounded," inequity in access to public space continues.

the degree of positivity in my relationship to you is in direct proportion to the degree of yr awareness of the space you occupy.

the thing about (re)establishing equilibrium is that it's predicated on a pendulum of ups and downs.

i put you in my mouth and it's like blackberries. soft pack of cigarettes and soft pack of abdominal muscles. handpicked and water-soaked. pleasant little bumps and hairs. a sweet-and-sour cat's tongue. and when i squeeze you it's juicy and sounds like saxophone. like old time relijun. all these little pockets that go "blip!" and "squawk!" but the light doesn't flicker with it. it's harsh, but it's low-level. i'm renovating my home, and i'm doing it myself.

looking at:
bess - alpaca cloak
blab - i hate straights—bash back, fags
bless n. 36 - bedsheets lake
company fuck
eyewriter
freed child rapist, 16, detained
gregg araki - kaboom
handsome devil
indian eunuchs given separate ids
magnetic fields return with realism
oppositional architecture
potipoti
russian criminal tattoo encyclopaedia
sell drugs in shops—think tank
serge gainsbourg: a heroic life
spanish self love lessons row
straw retreats over gay hate law

listening to:
andrew cedermark
best coast
bridal shop
cloud nothings
pearl harbor
robert church and the holy community
soft pack
wetdog

2009-11-08T00:00:00.001-05:00

current favourite song lyrics: december by frida hyvönen:
Oh, you have played records all night long. You come straight from the club when you pick me up at 6 in the morning. You smell of champagne and cigarettes. I put on stockings and a dark green dress. And we're off to the clinic.

10 girls in a room, one bed each. I wonder if I'm the only one who feels like everyone's staring at me. A nurse in the middle of the room informs us in a gentle Finnish accent about the procedure.

First they'll sting us with a needle, then we'll fall asleep. Then one by one they'll take us to the next room. Rid us of our little trouble—our unwanted pregnancies—and then we'll wake up.

You're the only man in the room. You're by my side. When it's my turn to get the injection, you're sent outside. "We've had a problem with boyfriends. They often faint if they see blood," the nurse explains.

Just a few moments later, I am sleeping. And if they do exist, the angels are weeping. And when I wake up, you get me a coffee and a sandwich and a kiss in which

I can taste the last breath of our love. And I can taste you haven't slept for centuries. And it's time to walk out into our own separate winters.

Before we leave, the nurse takes us aside. And she tells the two of us to take care of each other.
I'm not sure if I remember this right, but I think that's where we start to giggle, a relief in the grief.

looking at:
candy - song to the siren
chris jordan
cole rood & haan
early life stress changes genes
east village isn't what it used to be . . . and it never was
freight yard project fugazi - turnover
galactic suite
grace jones - william's blood (later with jools 2008)
jail threat for urinating student
joop!
murman arkitekter
psykick dancehall
rise of the non-veggie vegetarian
siv stoldal
skate bait
sonic fabric
sordid truths: selling my innocence for a taste of stardom
style.com - beth ditto
transsexual jesus sparks protests
zeha berlin

listening to:
grass widow
pants yell!
stavin chains
stella rocket

2009-11-01T00:00:00.004-04:00

nocturnes:

one moves through life continually leaving things behind and that's one definition of class, the degree of one's loss is also the degree of one's vitality, one's ability to sustain small constant amounts of loss. art becomes a memory more than anything else, a kind of chooser, it shows how we were touched

—eileen myles

what i need is a peace and quiet. not yr public hips.

i'm not afraid of definition. in fact, i find comfort in it because rarely do i grasp it and rarer still is it lasting. but i also don't privilege it above indefiniteness. making meaning and assigning value—primarily expressed linguistically, but arrived at mentally/emotionally/spiritually—are actions that participate in economies not entirely of my design nor entirely under my control. which is to say, i recognize the arbitrary and impermanent construction inherent in definition itself.

capsules of energy

like we're standing face-to-face

lips-to-lips

breath-to-breath

in blue speedos

arms outstretched

fists clenched

round sparklers

and spinning

do you know that i haunt you? but i'm more a flirt than a stalker.

we must forge a language together.

in dreams (oct):

i am onstage backstage with patti. we are shooting the shit. drinking champagne and smoking cigarettes. i keep dipping my hand in the water. eating ice. not vulgar. nice.

he wants us each to do a solo dance for everyone else as audience. i don't. he will follow with a performance. he doesn't.

m.s. and i and line. crushed velvet curtains draw me in.

looking at:

berlin, with few walls

daniel sannwald

dare

el perro del mar - change of heart

girls - lust for life

hans ericksson - greetings from the beautiful boys of stockholm part ii

heartworm

homophobic attack on trainee pc

iceland leads on gender equality

kasper bjorke - young again

kenya to launch homosexual census

rich germans demand higher taxes

ssion - boy

sweden church allows gay weddings

TOMMY PICO: DO IT YR OWN DAMN SELF

zineswap

listening to:

atlas sound - reminder

2009-10-31T18:15:00.001-04:00

2009-10-31T00:00:00.000-04:00

smile in melbourne again

2009-10-25T00:00:00.000-04:00

pictures of you on my bedroom door:

nocturnes:
i met ford on the playground at school. one of his friends noticed my joan jett t-shirt and arranged a meeting for us on the blacktop. ford showed up in his staple outfit at the time—chucks, cutoffs with fishnets underneath, and maybe a frumpies t-shirt. the rest is history. a history of record shopping, mix tapes, all night jam sessions, and french fries. we both lived in backyard bungalows, but we spent most of our time at his. it had better atmosphere cuz he had painted murals of the need on his wall. i think the general impression was that we were boyfriends (or at least we'd get called faggots a lot when we were out together), but at the time it was simpler than sex and more like siblings. a kerouac/cassady kinda thing.

i'm thinking about all this cuz of last weekend. come to think of it, cuz of this weekend, too. intimate and affirming and blah blah blah (i say it this way cuz i'm pretty sure everyone who was there was feeling comparable feelings). staring at the sky. staring at the sun. all of a sudden i was reading we owe you nothing. a teenager again. i think max maybe said something about how this makes sense of our kin.

through ford i met a host of amazing musicians who still comprise the majority of melbourne's finest. these were kids who infamously had the adrenaline and naivete to channel iggy pop's 1970 cincinnati performance until the mic was cut on accounts of teenage obscenity. we'd stay out way late getting lost but just making it to shows by origami and ninetynine and cutting class the next day to go see movies and buy comic books.

i think the first i heard of was the crayon fields cuz ford had written a song about them called crayola sodomy (ford's solo project was fordinthetrees and mine was sweetyoungthing and together we were sparkle motion and i think we maybe played one show accidentally). geoff from the crayon fields also has this really good sideproject called sly hats. the sly hats record features jarrod and nisa of fabulous diamonds. but when i first met jarrod, he was still in oh! belgium with annie and raquel. annie is now a netherlands-based artist and raquel (who made her new york debut earlier this summer) went on to be in the crazy jemima jemima who ended up being based in berlin. now, though, she performs solo as fatti frances and collaboratively in a gazillion other projects. and last year i had the pleasure of finally meeting self-proclaimed adult baby guy blackman.

in other music-related news, i finally downloaded the entire fever ray record. so. this weekend. maybe you have the following and would like to collaborate?:
black underwear
candles
castanets/claves
incense
itunes visualizer
liquorice
makeup
slow strobe
tulle

looking at:
all tomorrow's parties - the film
are women paying for sexism laws?
at the centre of time
butt gay porn at the ace hotel
crystals hold super computer key
dossier journal: issue iii - interview with collier schorr & monika condrea
find a grave
german homo erotic art first half 20th century
golden suicides
sharon hayes
travis jeppesen - excerpt: the suiciders
jj
just what does make me 'me'?
lever house
my love is like a blue, blue rose
science to stop age clock at 50
swedes divided over bunny biofuel
us medical cannabis policy eased

listening to:
glasser
light asylum
little girls
parallels
tamaryn

2009-10-18T00:00:00.012-04:00

nocturnes:
The mind's eye begins to see sharply when eyesight declines

I wank our cocks together, rock hard, I have to stop myself from getting hypnotized by it, I want there to be only two dicks, no difference, each one loving the other’s as much as his own, no more no less

But that's what most artists do, don't they? make art out of what they want so badly to forget or can no longer remember

I wanna make you mine, and it’s such a relief

Home becomes anywhere but. perhaps this is why home, for me, is always late, in the future tense, under renovation

Multiplication of the sensitive points

I park in the flowers

I sit enthroned on yr bed with the remote control in front of the big tv. we search ourselves. the demons

I am wearing a blue and regal cable knit sweater. you are naked entirely except for a pair of marine-blue converse hi-tops you are wearing without socks. I have scissors in my fifth pocket. I pull them out and pass them to you. you know what to do. you get on yr knees and press the blades against the scratchy cloth. drag them from my navel to my neck

I'M STOPPING WASHING MY DIRTY LAUNDRY IN PRIVATE

Our first year we end up one inside the other the evening of the twenty-fourth. we go into each other's arms. electric erections. I smile above you, my not great teeth a little spaced and pointed. we kiss. we take a taxi. I don't have a car, a poorboy obviously

I play with my thoughts, hoping they'll conquer my nightmare of not being able to bring my obsessions to life, as all artists fear. I fear it now, now as I try to make hours into matter, speaking to past scenes by letting the demons play. but fail or not, how good, how rewarding it is to not mind the day passing into night, while in the company of a master I clear out the remains of a home

looking at:
bad memories written with lasers
british military style
children can imagine away pain
dsm revision petition
5-hydroxytryptophan
gossip girl - s03e05
green spaces improve health
ira koers
la roux - bulletproof (acoustic)
l-dopa
brendan lott
magnetic electricity discovered
neal medlyn
obama: letting down gay supporters?
obama to end military gay policy
russian stars urge gay acceptance
shame boosts hand-washing rate
six scents
sweet sorrow for german boy thief
veggie spider shuns meat diet
vicar who raped young boys jailed
whitehot magazine - christian siekmeier interviewed by travis jeppesen
youth cannot live without web

listening to:
dominant legs
jad fair and teenage fanclub - near to you
fever ray - here before
fever ray - stranger than kindness
billie holiday - say it isn't so
monarchy
plastic operator
that ghost
wild nothing
zola jesus

2009-10-11T00:00:00.001-04:00

nocturnes:
this used to be where i'd leave from (this used to be my playground). now it's where i return (to). and i have to walk east from the train in the morning, so it's a blinding walk into the sun. i'm 16 and clueless and driving in a whiteout snowstorm. sometimes you think you either rake the coals or you get to livin, but, like everything else, sometimes, more often than not, they're the same thing.

life and then death? no. life is full of manifestations of the impermanence of itself. and i'm not just talking about la petite mort here. i mean everything. nothing lasts but the channel itself. so take lesson. ask the angels, and MOVE. all that slips out of yr hand first passes through it. and some things that drop are worth picking up again, over and over again. but already you run up against problems like what's worth unbounded by time? stability vs precarity is a false dichotomy. better to think in terms of silver slivers. shards. either you got a bunch of little pieces or you got less but bigger. either way, both reflect the same thing.

looking at:
a baby wolf with neon bones
andrea crews
asteroid collision less likely
big cat entertainment, inc.
french minister in boy sex row
girls - true love will find you in the end
goxxip - in concert on npr
travis jeppesen - friday i'm in love (or gg allin hails a cab)
most wanted sex offender found
new ring detected around saturn
patti smith - gloria (live on snl)
space clown hosts global show
mathias sterner
young adults anxiety overload
you're a racist

listening to:
ali love
frankie and the outs
life without buildings
woven bones

2009-10-04T00:00:00.017-04:00

nocturnes:
these silent blondes,
they were so special,
they had a quality,
a quiet masculinity

a lack of pretense.

late nights, early mornings with hiccups
tried to call last night, sure i messed it up
in a blur, which was a blur of enthusiasm

should be in bed, but decided to stay up
might be the best of sinking piss
and fucking away one’s life
if i went without, i'm sure i'd be asleep

team dresch!
ipod is switched on to the world
hand grenade

feel like rolling around on the floor
listening to comet gain with a bottle of gin
or jumping over high barbed-wire fences
listening to dyke punk—cue the third sex

try to track down some need
hot penis
happiness, no one would agree.

looking at:
artek + comme des garçon - standard
BIRDSONG PUBLICITY PHOTOS
encyclopedia of homosexuality
entertaining mr. sloane
florsheim by duckie brown
humör
oliver peoples
stephan schneider
weak species
werkplaats typografie
wood wood

listening to:
former ghosts
garbage - thirteen
lake
nirvana - scoff
roxy music - in every dream home a heartache
talk normal

2009-10-03T00:00:00.000-04:00

kiss me again: the life + legacy of arthur russell

2009-10-01T00:00:00.000-04:00

2009-09-27T00:00:00.004-04:00

in dreams (aug/sep):
meant to be running a race but keep stalling. then i'm in a car that's driving through the waves and the coach decided to take one for the team by surrendering to a giant wave, leaving the car

with them atop a monument museum auntie is trying to feed me sandwiches i'm in a car going to an interview with a trio of people whom i was with when they bought the car

a labryntine car park

he is driving with him they are picking me up for this play we're doing it's a bronco and it's snowing there's a little tiff about if he knows what he's doing (driving) after which we sort of skid off the road his argument is not to argue with mother nature. at school where the play is i'm outside on some sorta football field and a plane from argentina is wobbling through the air toward me then it's going backwards and somersaulting into a building. i'm surfin on a waterski in stormy waves

children almost being mowed over by a snow plow. missing the bus. it's a snow storm and i'm trying to make it to a secret goth show in the woods. waiting for a ride while boys message me about the past

a preview of tonight i'm at an artists' commune a giant house with a led screen facade filled with sf transplants

he is describing some girl whose wrist is disconnected like you turn it and you can see the inside bone. i look down and my wrist is like this

having trouble breathing/communicating. the only solution is for me to lie on my stomach and you to lay yr stomach on my back

looking at:
patrick carpentier
katie eary
federico forlani
julia hederus
hockney calls for smoking rooms
in search of memory
ioannisdimitrousis
lazy oaf
nude germans want right to roam
rage
single man
some days are better than others
stuck!
teacher jailed for sex with pupil
this is berlin not new york

listening to:
birgit bidder
bright eyes - loose leaves
brothers of end
drums
dum dum girls - let it be me
small black
stina stjern

2009-09-20T00:00:00.001-04:00

nocturnes:
if i seem outta sorts it's cuz
i spent this morning cryin in a church

you're 22 and in a closet dorm room and with two girls and you're all elevated and there are guitars, maracas, and a laptop.

i believe in bliss
it sounds like this:

the apartment
above the post office
on broadway
where frank o'hara lived --
they've torn it down,
but as i have no referent,
perhaps it's better to say,
"it has been torn down,"
i know, i know, passive voice,
but isn't our insistence on action
kinda problematic?
anyway, last time i was there
i was looking up
kinda dumbfounded
through snow,
and now it's so hot
that tar sticks to my boots.

i learnt how to write
i kissed you in the morning lighti went back to brooklyn
i held where the pole was hot.

looking at:
ANDREA
if one thing matters - a film about wolfgang tillmans
paedophile checks scheme defended
RIBA
transformer camera

listening to:
bear in heaven
cat power - psychic hearts
cubist blues - dream baby revisited
leaving mornington crescent

2009-09-14T17:24:00.000-04:00

2009-09-13T00:00:00.008-04:00

i may not have money
but i can still have somebody

i was young when i held a gun

and i can still feel the kickback

meditative act of rolling a cigarette
everything in a bag covered in shattered glass

the debasement of religiosity: how the religious applies to the drag household and to the elevation of the male body

what i meant was i wanted it to be like an abstract record, recorded in a language different than that we use with each other. i think that when you write something down it gets fixed and memorialized in a way that is independent from the way two people interact with each other in person. i think this is why one typically writes to another in recognition of a special occasion or in the absence of presence. so, yes, i have been fixing things along the way. and, yes, there’s a double meaning there.

nocturnes:

sinking boys

barked at

by shark-blue ocean

move

with the ease

of well-oiled wheels

propelled,

compelled by

dumb autumn smells

leaves the colour

of levi's tags

sorrow boys

with those

breath reflexes leaping and

lovely for seconds only

channel, conduit, flowing through for

on the one hand i provide the framework, the example,

and on the other, it's so alien

pattern atop pattern

otherwise how could one cover be better than another?

guitar solo in front of a flowered shirt

or flowered bedspread on which you

sit cross-legged in jeans and a t-shirt

quoting bob dylan lyrics

soft color features

fake eyelashes

the silence commanded by

the troubador

if you hit me, i'll disappear into the woodwork

looking at:
boy admits raping nine-year-old
georgi djongarski - st sebastian hors d'oeuvre plate
from beginning to end
gender pay gap in city shocking
mi and l'au - bingo
paul morris - no limits: necessary danger in male porn
hedi slimane - american youth
taxi taxi! - still standing at yr back door
chris von steiner

listening to:
karl blau - dark sedan
little dragon
supercluster
thee fair ohs
toro y moi

2009-09-06T00:00:00.000-04:00

nocturnes:
the mystic shimmer of money
the difference
between
hand-eye coordination
and
hand-mind coordination
yr life really can be what you want,
which is not deciding on why
you're accepting what happens,
but how you're intuiting
what you desire
just ask

to open to a blank page with undesignated time
epic days of burgers and shakes
slow feeling like clouds
to make a sexual appeal from a hill
where's the thread?
it makes no sense
it's getting carried away, or along,
which can be the same thing
shortcircuit the feedback loop
use the pretty words
stop talking about light
if the mind were a narrative

but it isn't, so what's the point?

make this thing
bang a gong
a transmitter of vibration
fade in concentric circles
and you almost wanna talk about the light,
see?

hunger and digestion
processional in opposite directions
a head falling back onto a pillow
synchronized with guitar fuzz

events don't follow one another
so much as they overlap
is a container only
as much as you put in it?
cover a picture with post-its
what you see depends upon
what you unstick
doing the unstuck

looking at:
ancient dial solves time riddle
ian david baker
cat power - from fur city
spencer chalk-levy
fake dutch moon rock revealed
galaxy's cannibalism revealed
handsets enhance the real world
mtv to make us version of skins
ethan shoshan
stopwatch found for solar system
we're all mutants, say scientists

listening to:
memory tapes
papa m - last caress
sally shapiro - dying in africa
taken by trees - my boys
times new viking - move to california
vikta faglar

2009-09-01T22:30:00.003-04:00

shy renegade grunge princess:

2009-08-24T13:16:00.000-04:00

nocturne communique/nocturnal e-mission
echolalia and alexithymia—i woke up alarmed. i didn't know where i was at first. just that i woke up in your arms.

textual relations/e-ruptions
is it that some cuts you can reopen and others you can't? if i could just get lost between the two notes being sung. being in the middle of a power chord. between the root and the fifth. yes, i'm talking about feeling vs. reason. yes, i'm talking about sticky fingers. what i know is conditioned by what i need to know. so i'm centered and i'm vibrating and it feels like driving along the edges of the inverse of a mountain. what makes a cliff more impressive than a beach? no eyes in the back of yr head, no arms in the back of yr heart. just a fan that's gonna blow or suck but you don't know which and you kinda want both. two flames last as long as it takes the match that lighted them to burn out. and the only sound or song is that of the charred stick writhing until it's consumed.

the air is perfumed with cologne. you want to see how close you can get to it, if you can enter the air without it raining on you. shy tops and bossy bottoms. gay ghosts, shy lust, and angel's spit. boy swept to sea and we are shyly hunting for him. sea weeps for boy. we are hunters with brooms and we sweep the sea. sand spiraling outward in the shape of an anus. it's not a graveyard, but the bed is. he shut his eyes and heard the shout and felt the warm accusing strokes fall lightly across his face.

looking at:
antony - crazy in love
businesses retain gay prejudice
damage
gaze
german group develops new trabant
lasc studio
l.a. zombie
lykke li - little bit in bermuda
mobile phones get cyborg vision
new exoplanet orbits backwards
one fast move or i'm gone: kerouac's big sur
science ponders zombie attack
this is what i do
us banknotes show cocaine traces

listening to:
atlas sound - walk a thin line
babies
behavior
erik de vahl
florence and the machine
frida hyvönen - jesus was a crossmaker
low - words
modest mouse - doin' the cockroach
sound of arrows
wallenberg
washed out

2009-08-24T00:00:00.002-04:00

photo by nicholas haggard

holy trinity for a swedish boy:

father

son

holy spirit

2009-08-19T00:00:00.000-04:00

how a wild tiger i have known lets her hair down:

2009-08-18T20:46:00.000-04:00

gold (glitter) + black (telecaster):

2009-08-18T20:22:00.000-04:00

Daniel Portland's anagram name is DILDO 'N' PRENATAL

2009-08-18T00:00:00.002-04:00

nocturne communique/nocturnal e-mission
i'm very super-ficial; i hate everything official.

textual relations/e-ruptions
you're like a child with a bug bite—you keep rubbing it like it's some sort of magick amulet.

drawing from the point of magick—that if you draw the object, it brings it to you.

supply me with majoun mixed with a single drop of blood.

psychedelic penetration.

looking at:
alsop architects
patryce bak
bat for lashes - sleep alone
belgrade soccer stadium murals
claire fontaine
guys with iphones
how artists must dress
huggy bear - rubbing the impossible burst
wilkerton

listening to:
broken social scene - love will tear us apart
destroyer - bay of pigs
guided by voices - hold on hope
mount eerie - wind's poem
taken by trees - watch the wave s

2009-08-10T14:09:00.003-04:00

2009: simian mobile disco (feat. beth ditto) - cruel intentions

2005: sweety oungthing - cruel intentions

2009-08-10T00:00:00.001-04:00

sigil #1 (gridded paper, china marker, cum):

2009-08-04T00:00:00.001-04:00

nocturne communique/nocturnal e-mission
all i can hear around on four sides is the sound of paint rollers. smells like teen spirit. it smells. i'm letting go.

textual relations/e-ruptions
you smell like wet sweat. but maybe it's not you. maybe it's just clothes. maybe it's just wool. the blue socks you're wearing in a soviet-era high-rise. i find you on the balcony. it's raining. sipping something hot, you put down yr mug and let breathsteam slip from yr mouth in my direction. i shiver. notes from a piano being lackadaisically plucked waft through open sliding glass door and get lost in drops. yr sentences are short, but more importantly, succinct. the balcony is furnished with two chairs and a table. we make them face each other. when i was young and the chairs were swings, this was called banana. but now when i hear banana, i think of something else.

in dreams (july)
why i don't work in orgies
phone call from a foreign country
losing the game and loving it

and it ain't often enough
ain't often
show me a movie
and i'll show you an oven

dream girls keep giving me mystery drugs that are like tiny sparklers you swallow whole. the other drugs keep burning holes in the carpet and i'm shuttling between the record store and the gay bar and the loft apartment, like this one, but
cathedral ceilings
roller skates
elevators
for the mood, too.

i'm asleep on the beach
skinny elbows
pierce the sky

aj is replicating herself by taking potion and walking through a revolving door, but every time she does it, she gets older. i trip on acid in this complicated way that requires deciphering a code on the back of a box and eating the contents dry, pouring the rest out. really intense, really fast, like i feel like a chief or something, and then all of a sudden so much time has passed.

mom is sprawled long on a lawn in a wedding dress and someone is dying in a car.

mom is appalled by my dirty ears.

grandma walters' ghost.

i'm under arrest by the national gov't for something i did on the internet. i'm running like a fugitive as i'm followed electronically. i give in so easily. why? cuz fighting is exhausting, especially losing battles. prolly has something to do with going invisible and sending erotica over e-mail. also it's like my biggest fear—being in trouble for you don't exactly know what or how you did it.

talking to my grandmother about the life choices i've made.

looking at:
bless - oxbow
brainstormers
center for tactical magic
gender pay gap not being closed
gossip - love long distance
in which we endure days in the summer: seeing the big picture
christian marclay - guitar drag
chuck morgan - this spring is
music for men london launch party
people in pizza slice costumes becoming pizzas
sonic youth etc.: sensational fix
tackling south africa's rape epidemic
ted talks
three degrees - if and when

listening to:
damon + naomi - the great wall
magnolia electric co - little sad eyes
taxi taxi - ripest fruit

2009-08-02T00:00:00.000-04:00

an incomplete audiovisual compendium to d. a. powell's eleven disco songs that equate sex and death through an elaborate metaphor called heaven:

2009-07-30T00:00:00.001-04:00

tuesday night i went to see my chums who are in this little group called yacht throw a party at santos for their new record album see mystery lights.

see mystery lights is steeped in the mystique of marfa, tx, which is where i got to know these kids. on one magical night this lovely praying mantis of a lady called sandra permitted me use of her garage for an art show. yacht turned up with their friend, the coolest rich jensen, and we took turns reading in front of some psychedelic projections:

From New Album 6/9/09 2:29 PM

at some point, the art show moved inside for disco dancing and then some strangers showed up (which is unusual for a city of 2,121) and started lighting trees on fire in the front lawn. this was just about the time that the teetotalers started drinking and the non-smokers started smoking.

yacht now cover rich's classic voodoo city, so if you get the chance to see them perform live don't miss it. these kids are becoming quite the performance artists, replete with autodidactic, robotic riot voguing and bleach blonde red lippie annie lennox realness. not to mention audiovisual induction into their love cult.

when i was leaving santos, a lovely lady asked to be chaperoned to a rumored secret matt and kim show at the delancey. her name is larkin grimm and she is a smart and amazing musician who will be throwing a weekend dyke music extravaganza in september at santos. can't wait.

when we arrived at the delancey, the music was finished (which was probably for the best), so we got inspired on the roof where there was a bbq and an uproariously entertaining group of lesbians holding down fort at the snapshot party.

the night wasn't really over though until i went to the bodega for some candy.

2009-07-27T00:00:00.000-04:00

nocturne communique/nocturnal e-mission
new economy, new alchemy: translating feeling like shit into knowing you're the shit

textual relations/e-ruptions
the body part is a hand. the action is one of moving the hand, and more precisely the fingers, from the mouth where the nails are being bitten to the slits between the green plastic of a chair. green slats contrasting with red stripes of t-shirt. i am witnessing all this from behind. back slightly hunched. hair well groomed. bad eyes cuz i can see through yr glasses. can you see my reflection in them?

smelly t-shirts. the sudden awareness of an adolescent. and by awareness, i mean shame. give that to me. turquoise melting into skin. melting into red and becoming navy. maybe. and peeling it off. not so easy or bright or healthy as a banana. more like sour and melted. a pool of waxen dairy. the concept of affordance vs that of desire.

the only things i have to offer you:
the violence of the rose
the effemi-nancy of leather

sometimes you don't know what's important until you step back from it. give it some distance in space and then time. the fineline, the tightrope one walks is the leap to faith in memory. like maybe you pick up a scrap of paper from under yr bed and you either recycle it or you put it in a picture frame. if the latter, then memory, by which is meant one's present configuration of the past, performs elevation, signification (making significant). if the former, then the careful handling of parchment has been abandoned. but it could have been otherwise. in infinite ways. in front of yr eyes. keep fondling me. in yr hands. and in yr mind.

opening up the treasure chest of a suitcase. a treasured chest cased in a suit. the smell is overwhelming. particular palates and laundry soap. packing up and unpacking both looking the same, both being the same. i can fit it inside. i can show that nothing stays. the colors and the rumples. caught between bright and dismal.

you're wearing a pea coat. it's july. i don't understand you. and i don't understand how to admit this.

looking at:
artificial brain 10 years away
cats exploit humans by purring
divided we stand - an outline of scandinavian situationism
julie doiron - consolation prize
glass ceiling blocking top jobs
kid bombardos - i round the bend
pagan police get solstice leave
thinkers meet to plot the future
tiny lizard falls like a feather
we are the mods
weaving the way to the moon
weird and wet
we're all performance artists now

listening to:
butterfly bones
julie doiron - when brakes get wet
skatan
woman of color

2009-07-25T21:23:00.001-04:00

kiss me in the shadow:

2009-07-25T00:00:00.001-04:00

outline of yr lover:

2009-07-24T19:24:00.000-04:00

She only hopes for what she knows she can't get, while I'm holding her up from the inside. She thinks that if it can't reach her, it can't expose her as less than perfect like everyone tells her she is.

I won't expect anything. I am not really like this. I have put me off so long. I can't even really fight this cause I have wanted you so long.

And when she reaches for me, it's in fits of longing to express what she can't say, to admit she's not okay. I painted my walls twice the day you left. Couldn't get it right. Just when I think the color's set, the old one bleeds through.

And I can't write, when I can't breath.

Well what does the long run mean, anyway? I don't know why I'm holding on for it, while she takes everything she wants.

Now I won't go anywhere. And she makes me guess what she wants. And I guess lately I want to feel like I'm right, but when she calls me baby

I don't want to hear about your trip. I couldn't sleep at night. I let you make up the rules, but mine stay the same.

And I can't write, when I can't breath.

So I make excuses for this girl I love. And I make her swear she'll never do again the things I want her to most. It is such a contradiction—I want her to say the right words, but she changes all of the meanings cause she's afraid of definition.

I can't make her keep a promise that she never made. I can't make her keep it.

2009-07-24T00:00:00.000-04:00

2009-07-22T00:00:00.001-04:00

2009-07-21T00:00:00.000-04:00

nocturne communique/nocturnal e-mission
all the alcoholics
all the licks
of my life

black pearls
and white roses

textual relations/e-ruptions
the sky is saying "don't worry"
cuz i can write nicely if i try
blood vapor trails on a white couch
a blanket
(but not like a child)
hands like tree branches—
perched—
coiled wires and ash
i'm worried i'm getting burnt
on another plane
bird sounds
objects of desire
objets d'art
is this reaching an equilibrium?
caged
warm tiles
blue skies, golden wheat, and the company of good friends

---

haiku:
flashes of colour
walk away, mystery man
city sinister

---

the question is this:
is the pain getting less or are you jus getting used to it?

---

tiny exhalations and tiny exhilarations
wearing a t-shirt—tiny
ding of the bell
elevator to hell

give 'em the book to bide the time
and give me the time to bind him
these people don't want sex from me and hence are not interested (interesting?—this is the question)

no chocolate, jus cream
jus polite questions that mask money, honey
jus polite statements that mask queerness
til we're all awash in one great piss stream, torrential as adolescent pee

leveling the gutter and the sidewalk and the steps
whirling—the sensation of liquid
there will be no dancing tonight
but there will be tonight, dancing

drunken fools who never close their mouths
clothes moths
both eating holes
in my time fabric

step off the train
what we gonna watch
and who gonna say it?
the gift of gab, so different than when written

hold on to my shoulders
don't rest yr head there
i'm here not for yr comfort
but to brace yrself against for the comfort that will come after

yr welcome

looking at:
caught in the act - the full story
gloria gaynor - never can say goodbye
the grid system
hitRECord
how flowers conquered the world
monika
monkeys recognise bad grammar
self-help makes you feel worse
smart clothes could take photos
the truth alone will not set you free

listening to:
carl bean - i was born this way
chain and the gang
desire
loose shus - taurus
r.e.m. - harborcoat
sally shapiro - love in july
sin city circus ladies
skatt brothers - walk the night
south shore commission - free man

2009-07-19T00:00:00.000-04:00

there is a wind that never dies:

2009-07-11T00:00:00.000-04:00

cum and lemme (and her and her) read yr beads here

and/or

listen to me, at 17, read a poem from a coney island of the mind by lawrence ferlinghetti here

2009-07-06T17:21:00.004-04:00

when yr consciousness is expanded or you're feelin inspired or whatnot, this song will you take you places, and if it doesn't, then we might disagree on some fundamental basis. it's like if you distilled the performative element of the song -- ennui -- and augmented it with vu drone and sneer and swagger and rolling hips. and don't even get me started on the spoken word. (also, this applies.)

2009-07-06T00:00:00.000-04:00

nocturne communique/nocturnal e-mission
word that means so much. word that is so revelatory. jail vs blood. myths of sense, correction, straight lines. the lesson of the line vs osmosis, circularity, permeability. some good. some bad. some good in small doses. so this is what i'm doing: making a corral. kind of like if to contain were to hug and everyone's his own gatekeeper.

textual relations/e-ruptions
makeshift bed. the floor and mismatched linen. brown sleeping bag as blanket and blue pillow. move the coffee table outta the way and you fit between it and the sofa. the furniture. clean and adult. the morning. warm. shafts come in through the window. more decorative than effective. and hit the side of yr face. eye closest to the pillow open. line from notebooks to shoes to he on the couch. the kitchen cum kinetic.

---

all those nights

in the rain

nothing to say

all those nights spent

waiting

worrying

the opposite of anticipation

if i could have one superpower

it would be

grace

in dreams (june)
you want to live alone on mt josef where the sailboats are.

you are singing x-mas carols on tv. eye make-up a red line round yr forehead.

don't live on 27th st. live on 27th floor. take a horizontal and vertical elevator to get there.

meet dyke who's working as teller in bank (or maybe it's a post office, it's in new york, it's in tribeca). i've met her in lines twice before. she doesn't know i have a boyfriend, keeps asking me about gals. run into r. she's on vacation. some program in cleveland hasn't started yet, otherwise she'd be there. my friends and her daughter will convene/converge in marshall, mi, only she wants a whole room to herself.

the bows of ships. i'm in them and they're made of glass. only i'm not protected so much as trapped as they plunge into water and it feels like rollercoaster.

looking at:
bruce high quality foundation - pizzatopia
fine young cannibals - i'm not the man i used to be
zach galifianakis interviews indie rocker michael showalter
jef geys - belgian pavilion at venice art biennale 09
gossip - heavy cross
hint of planet outside our galaxy
bell hooks - the will to change: men, masculinity, and love
in the studio w/courtney love . . . and hole!
rhea jeong - void lp player
jr
adam kimmel - screentest
jana leo - rape new york: an open archive
ute ploier
roman polanski: wanted and desired
tools are temporary body parts
transmission w/t-mobile interview w/yoko, ana, and beth

listening to:
jeff buckley - we all fall in love sometimes
husbands
makthaverskan
salem - streets of philadelphia
she & him - please, please, please let me get what i want
patti smith - live at the wbai studio, new york city, may 28, 1975
matthew stone - why the future is still possible
yo majesty

2009-07-01T00:00:00.000-04:00

Kathleen Hanna: Yeah. So what? Boys should touch each other more, I mean, they don't fucking have to beat each other up. It's the only reason they beat people up is because they want to fuck each other.

Punk Planet: Well I wouldn't go that far.

Kathleen Hanna: Well I would. Any more questions?

2009-06-30T00:00:00.000-04:00

the heart factory is a lonely hunter:

2009-06-29T00:01:00.002-04:00

both a woman AND a fag:

2009-06-29T00:00:00.000-04:00

i have always been in love . . .

2009-06-25T00:00:00.008-04:00

yes, we are witches, warlocks, and most of all demons. and we are coming for yr children. warn them about the girls all dressed in black and never trust a man with lily white hands. writhing on the floor in ecstasy. waiting to be raptured. fiery eyes and downy thighs--polluted young flesh. the menace. the evil. we can smell their sour milk smell. we are as tenacious as sharks and cunning as foxes and we will lure them into dark and sticky basements. possassed by hung animals and pools of blood.

2009-06-22T00:00:00.002-04:00

nocturne communique/nocturnal e-mission
missives to the misses

textual relations/e-ruptions

i can see the lights hovering

i am on the roof

they are on the horizon

blue like hot

hot like how

a stick of butter

might melt in yr pants

gang of 4

in village leather

know how to move around

know how to fool the town

enter the room

white walls

white floor

white celing

silver mirrored chadelier

translucent acrylic furniture

see-through to

seated naked asses

eat like a farmhand

drink like a polish plumber

enter the space

you are either

wounded by it

(the density of romance)

presume its ineffectuality

(the imperviousness of reason)

is there a spectrum?

or jus indecision?

i want a confession, a reaction,

you want exercise.

no regrets. jus livin with mistakes. some you could have prevented and some you couldn't. the inability to not dwell. being in a bind. hitting a wall. the beauty of lateral movements is that they are mutually exclusive w/hitting rock bottom. life as bumper cars.

looking at:
leonard cohen - in my secret life
elias + the wizzkids - mr right guy
guapo
mgmt - this must be the place
geoffrey o'connor
tiny chance of planet collision
rosa von praunheim
yoko ono enjoys rare music honour

listening to:
cleast eatwood
thecocknbullkid

the glass
gossip - dimestore diamond
helvetia
last portray
frank o'hara
publicist
strike

2009-06-12T03:00:00.000-04:00

nocturne communique/nocturnal e-mission
the truth is not that i want to fuck you but that i want you to want me to fuck you

the pleasure is mine
is twofold
watching you gleek
and breathing yr secondhand smoke.

textual relations/e-ruptions
pajamas and the grace of
snow on blood
church on white.

chest naked
cold
a mouthful of lies.

bare feet
on a wooden floor
blank shadow cross patterned wallpaper.

wrap me up
slip 'n' slide me into a drawer
THAT SOUND.

the house doesn't smell like smoke anymore but it does smell like cat piss.

blue background
black trees
the inability of ice — slippery.

wish the sky were higher
the days longer
the woods warmer, polished.

if you cover yr face
if you sing aloud
then go up on the roof at night, or an attic.

don't talk like you know it
don't turn on the lights
don't cooperate.

let yr nose bleed
yr knees bleed
the books are in boxes.

a knock at the door
and you're made to perform
smiling gay-face in glasses.

you're gonna lose it, loser
the last frame is one between the legs
boyish boy-face facing the surrogate father.

and bagpipes.

deliberating is debilitating.

peace, love, and kurdt.

in dreams (may):
i'm on a ship trying to find life rafts and vests but everyone's faster and taking them already and i know i should have hidden one away to begin with. you've moved in my sleep and i wake up in front of a mirror. a barn is going past the window and we are docking. i don't try to find my family but they find me anyway.

you've just had yr blue velvet blazer tailored but you're too uptight to ask daddy for a ride so we're gonna walk along the side of the highway.

lots of driving around on 4wheelers and mopeds and things that go slow and are close to the ground and are yet to be invented. you are drawing yr own map on top of another map and it is making a mess of the order.

a green sequin leotard.

we are sailors and we are playing videogames and i blindfold you by wrapping a black leather belt cross yr face.

looking at:
bau bike
distant world circles tiny star
german corpse may be luxemburg
glue society
lol theorists
peaches - lose you
space headache a real phenomenon

listening to:
magnolia electric co - josephine
joni mitchell - that song about the midway
wilco - theologians

2009-06-06T03:00:00.000-04:00

DEAD TEAM DRESCH POETS SOCIETY

2009-05-27T03:00:00.000-04:00

nocturne communique/nocturnal e-mission
IAYM / i sold my heart to the junkman

textual relations/e-ruptions
break the ice by breaking a glass.

unzip yr fly in the park and invade the air with cut grass. smells of musk and smoke sifted through heat and skateboards in a stairwell.

i've always been in love with grids (at the same that i'm overwhelmed by the rectilinear) and now i'm gonna start owning it. finding and exposing my golden section. "the idea is the machine that makes the art."

summer leave. what's the connection between the organism and the action? a point of distension. i'm leaving trails of blood wherever i go. and maybe i'm following yr bloody footprints. the buildup of sediment and sentiment. black sludge. skin peels slowly. you don't gotta know how to force it. just how to make it easy from the proper point of entry. williams was wrong about the red wheelbarrow. what he meant was a blue t-shirt and translucent skin underneath.

a bottle of water. you must be thirsty. apparition, vocal chords, breath. it's dark and we're in a cave and that's why it's dark. and shadows tells us nothing about anything. it's the jugular. cage is the prophet. sit back and listen to yr blood boil. build the building that holds yr heart. cosmic retribution, attrition, pronunciation. you're drawing with yr tongue out and i'm drawing yr tongue. the shape and water. drawing it with water, incidentally. just letting the lines drip like sleep. like pollock minus the sylus. if you were fluent in torture, you would let me strike you gently.

looking at:
sarah baley
dynasty handbag - bags
heartsrevolution - the rose and her prince
man-made star to unlock cosmic secrets
naked lunch @ 50
top 50 text acronyms parents should know
web style guide

listening to:
cocoanut groove
dandy warhols - cool as kim deal
kim deal - i believe in miracles (you sexy thing)
viktor sjöberg

2009-05-21T03:00:00.000-04:00

Coming at an end, the lovers
Are exhausted like two swimmers.  Where
Did it end?  There is no telling.  No love is
Like an ocean with the dizzy procession of the waves' boundaries
From which two can emerge exhausted, nor long goodbye
Like death.
Coming at an end.  Rather, I would say, like a length
Of coiled rope
Which does not disguise in the final twists of its lengths
Its endings.
But, you will say, we loved
And some parts of us loved
And the rest of us will remain
Two persons.  Yes,
Poetry ends like a rope.
--jack spicer, a book of music

nocturne communique/nocturnal e-mission
patti smith's pen(wo)manship

textual relations/e-ruptions
beast sting
a hole burns in yr hand and i stick my finger in it and it leaves a black streak summer spreads on an orange blanket
a bullet in the medicine cabinet
cum on a concrete patio or a wooden floor.

a flame makes sense
the flame is yes
the flame is no
shy hunter
record stores are closing in stockholm
shy hunter
i'm tearing you asunder.

a precious specimen
in dark martens
picked off the trash heap
and preserved in amber.

the laundry smell of street
on the outskirts of a kiss
so many bits of paper
ease of conversation on a page.

perfumed graduate
i'm gonna wrap duct tape round yr head
till yr eyes turn blue.

looking at:
firekites - autumn story
sannah kvist
new humans
yana payusova

listening to:
bat for lashes - wilderness
cave bears
dynamics
golden silvers
jens lekman - the summer never ends
liechtenstein
little big adventure
magnolia electric co. - it's made me cry
men
3 teens kill 4

2009-05-14T03:00:00.000-04:00

nocturne communique/nocturnal e-mission
maybe it isn't so bad when the worst embarrassment you've had was in mistaking built to spill for pavement in front of yr professor.

there was a fed-ex slip for a janet weiss on my door. yes, i'm wishful thinking.

textual relations/e-ruptions
photographs and photographers don't capture a thing, don't capture anything. a frame is skeleton for empty light and nothing more. you think you can catch something. like fishing. but the trigger finger and the hook are death marches as much as anything else. the nation is an empty bed and the ocean is insurrection.

oh my adolescent heart. oh my sullied mind.

the ghosts are plenteous. all the messed-up arteries of yr yearnings, all the hysteria of yr repetition. red-haired boy with strawberry-stained mouth, you got my blood wizzing, you got my lips whistling.

in dreams (april)
we are on this simulated ride but then no it is all of a sudden not simulated anymore. there is pavement beneath our feet and we are rolling down a hill over and under and on bridges. it is like north beach and you want a cannoli. in the dream i am high and dreaming and the effect is no doubt intoxicating. we are walking to the cannoli store. i am wearing yr blue sweatshirt it is up a hill and along a fence. a thread gets caught and starts unraveling. boys are approaching behind me and i'm trying to untangle myself before they get there. it's not working and i'm just getting embarrassed in front of them. then you come along and like a mother remove the thread from the fence, even though you are angry i've ruined yr sweatshirt. we get separated and when we meet again at a different store i see you've decided on an espresso rather than a cannoli.

LOOK!
georges bataille electronic library
michael bilsborough
cranberries - linger
gang of four - at home he's a tourist
gauguin cut off van gogh's ear
jeff goldblum explains the difference between rappers and mcs
ihockney: artist david uses his apple phone to paint mini masterpieces
invisibility cloak edges closer
nine inch nails- head like a hole
sopopular
zombie computers on the rise

LISTEN!
bodies of water
cause co-motion! - you lose
dirty projectors + david byrne - ambulance man
le c. et c.
lewis + clarke - chelsea hotel no 2
mo-dettes
pauline murray
wehavelove

2009-05-08T03:00:00.000-04:00

sisters. this is where my mind is. summer is ready when you are.

this must have been either right before or right after i saw them in melbourne (in the same outfits, obviously). and i was seventeen and i was standing next to my bestfriend and his mother cuz we weren't old enough to be there by ourselves.

2009-04-26T03:00:00.000-04:00

nocturne communique/nocturnal e-mission
to traverse the fundamental fantasy

textual relations/e-ruptions
you're like the summer here. you're like the season. you're seasonal. a repository for -- weather. -- and -- whether? and i, maybe i'm like the puzzle and its inverse. it doesn't make sense cuz it's a puzzle and cuz it's unfinished. not doing one thing means you're doing something else. that's why you're rolling strips of paper into spirals: in anticipation of transportation.

in dreams (march)
you keep referring to camps (summer camp) and taylor (the girl with a boy's name) who owes you drugs. grandmother likes my handsome jumper.

i am camping in a tent next to the red carpet. it is raining.

i am living in a labyrinthine space. i want to clean it but i don't own it and hence am reluctant. the man i live with offers me two walls on which to hang all of my photographs.

i receive a text message from someone i know well suggesting that it is weird and we might not know each other so well.

a crank that i turn in private into my chest exposing my heart. air and light and radio waves rush in. no blood comes out.

i am watching a hysterical woman through a hole in the wall. it's fuck and lies. (it's fuck and run?)

an oversize squirrel is eating and foraging for food and it starts following me. along with a familiar forlorn dog. i am cautious of the squirrel cuz i've never seen one of its size or fiendishness and it may be trying to bite me. i am trying to keep it away with an umbrella. i have to go up some stairs in an office building to get to the bus. the dog lives next to me and needs to take the bus home otherwise he will be lost and stranded. i don't let him in the building, however, cuz then the squirrel might get in. also, there is a family of some orthodox religion in the building. they seem nice and warm. i want to alert them about the squirrel, but i'm already through the soundproof glass door toward the bus and don't know how to express myself without words.

LOOK!
daily show - stockholm syndrome
golden girls star bea dies at 86
gossip - heavy cross
informers
josh mcney
morrissey - something is squeezing my skull
carl olof berg
rocky clues from dirty dead stars
size queens - my lover is a body artist
toxic shield snuggle suit
alexander trocchi - a revolutionary proposal: invisible insurrection of a million minds
angry dogs, sex drugs and $880,000 face cream: john waters gives the takeaway a private art tour

LISTEN!
descending ivory
fischerspooner / r.e.m. - fascinating
sonic youth - sacred trickster

2009-04-19T03:00:00.000-04:00

nocturne communique/nocturnal e-mission
the bull has his orbit, and the bullfighter has his, and between orbit and orbit is the point of risk where falls the vertex of the terrible byplay.

textual relations/e-ruptions
i didn't learn from what you said, and i didn't learn from what you did. the story that gets you in and the story that you make.

this journey -- it's like running. scale and endurance are relative. maybe you're used to seeing everything clearly, or maybe you're used to water running between you and the mirror. so my saying is a setting of pace. and this interruption (interpretation?) is itchy. like how declension doesn't have to mean inferior but variations on a theme.

up the apples and pears. the wind makes it feel more like a descent. but also kinda like a dress. blowing up and around. the blue light to the right and the red to the left. lots of white flickering and blinking in between. falling. the flags of a used car lot in the back of yr pants. a wild tail. an entangling web. but somehow not claustrophobic. it's smoke and it's the belief that the smoke is something. and by is i mean means. or even that there's something behind the smoke.

if the space doesn't exist, can the words?

LOOK!
tori amos - welcome to england
breeders - fate to fatal
leonard cohen, lorca, rock, and flamenco
cure - killing an arab
sophnet
sweptaways + jens lekman - happiness will be my revenge

LISTEN!
bat for lashes - use somebody
decibelles
it hugs back
lykke li - knocked up
robert svensson
ultravox - just for a moment

2009-04-13T17:36:00.001-04:00

Remember the clear light, the pure clear white light from which everything in the universe comes, to which everything in the universe returns; the original nature of your own mind. The natural state of the universe unmanifest.

Let go into the clear light, trust it, merge with it. It is your own true nature, it is home.

2009-04-12T03:00:00.000-04:00

nocturne communique/nocturnal e-mission
i know my question doesn't make sense at all since we live outside the realms of yes and no

textual relations/e-ruptions
know. i don't put faith in the healer that is not the self. i don't put it in the mouth either. mother or otherwise. holes of origin. the shame is in the expectation to adequately account. sometimes numbers are numbers and not enigmas. sometimes reactions are. like the scary thing about conceptual art is not the good concept or the bad concept that you get or you don't get, but the apparentness of it per se, which is another way of saying i wanna look, but i don't wanna think about it (touch). touch, think about it. alabaster or skin breaking?

a simple and certain joy. the heart of the regulatory machine. it's a lovely moment counting to twenty. every time you try to preserve something you also kill it. you save and kill at the same time. kill a child in the morning and kiss yr own in the afternoon.

---

the sea rushes up my knees like flame and i feel like just some misplaced joan of arc . . .

LOOK!
amazing - is it likely
anntian
des'ree - kissing you
peter downsbrough
god help the girl
last angel of history
not tom
peaches - talk to me
red by wolves
steven shaviro - grace jones, corporate cannibal
sisters make people happy
ssru
sordid lives
sweden allows same-sex marriage
yoko ono auctions art for autism

LISTEN!
cold cave
forest + trees
horrors
lemonheads + liv tyler - hey, that's no way to say goodbye
nite jewel
odawas
telepathe

2009-04-05T03:00:00.000-04:00

nocturne communique/nocturnal e-mission
it's getting pretty dark: a writing list:
against interpretation
the design of dissent
the gun is loaded
industrial ruins: spaces, aesthetics, and materiality
no future: queer theory and the death drive
port of saints
retaking the universe: william s. burroughs in the age of globalization
scum manifesto
the thirst for annihilation: georges bataille and virulent nihilism
the wild boys

textual relations/e-ruptions
smell is meant to be the sense most triggering of memory. but maybe time more. like seasonal - the certain quality of light at a particular time of year. and more, naps. late afternoon. in williamsburg, in a bed with my mother and sister. in melbourne, where everyone else had a schedule in the house and i didn't in the bungalow. i'd listened to music all night and morning and writ lyrics and hung the wash on the line. (who can sleep with the birds in the morning anyway?) in portland in a dorm room with a boy after class. and now here.

find a particular death and make a wonderful apology. in heart, i am a teenager.

LOOK!
arne + carlos
blur - country house
cars - hello again
platform for pedagogy
pulp - common people
sisterhood is forever
smart girls @ the party

LISTEN!
antony - child of god
antony - frankenstein
micachu
my gold mask
pashly
these are powers
wavves