UnSilent Night

Gathering in the park in numbers and nighttime. Fade in music.


I just hope the lampshades are renegade installations.

Recycled House

Another of my long-time house-building fantasies is the recycled materials building project... This is why people like Olle Lundberg with his recycled ferry house-boat and Reishee Sowa of Puerto Aventuras, Mexico with his recycled materials sustainable island paradise have become my heroes...


The non-profit Public Architecture had some of their people build this. Every element is some kind of recycled.
Thier site is: http://www.publicarchitecture.org

AntiMart

Go straight from work in my monkey suit to the Antimart opening in Bushwick and despite the fact that I felt as though my eyeballs were going to fall out of my head at any moment, it was such an honor to be there and feel my heart overflow with pride in the Antimart crew for all their amazing work... Brooklyn just got even better!

Dream Home

This reminds me of an installation Andi Bird did years ago with massive quatities of string and broken glass and bare feet and homosote (is that how you spell that?). Much of my mind these daze as it turns cold in this city is turning to daydreams of building green dream homes in warm corners of the earth using sustainable architecture and bare hands.

The image is from the International Garden Festival, held annually in Quebec since 2000 at the Reford Gardens.
The URL is: http://www.jardinsmetis.com/english/festival/index.htm

Work on Saturday

It is never cool when you have to work on a Saturday, especially early in the morning. I remember the years of Saturdays as market days, packing up the battered Bobby Sue the Subaru, filling her to the brim with fashion and mannequin parts and the old tent with the clouds that Andi Bird painted, and all those endless folding racks...

Today I feel vague and sip my coffee (creamed & sugared) and enjoy the taste of last night in my mind. Despite the drama in my crowded subway car between the atrociously rude and confrontational woman and her side-kick, the all-out yelling and cursing match that ensues. Eventually at my home base stop the scene involves a cop and some MTA police briefly. At this point I see a neighborhood friend with her beautiful man-cub who needs momma to carry him after such a trying day, and I abandon the drama makers. I offer to carry her back pack but she's a strong lady and only lets me walk her home in the dusk as she bears the weight of the child and their baggage. But Divine won't let me kiss his cheek goodbye. Maybe next time.

Then I head over to the studio tower to find my friends' holiday designer sale. Miss Saudia my designer/performer belle gives me a lovely pair of earrings, one of which I wear in my one pierced ear, the other I pocket to give to Digitelle as a present. And mama Cara's birthday gift is a huge gorgeous transparent heart, she ties it around my neck with a rubber chord and it rests perfectly on my breast plate, like all things she gives me. I also am fawned over by the beloved posse; Taj literally jumping and licking at me desperately, Flower keeping underfoot or nearby, and TenBucks mostly sulking but finally saying hello.

New Designer with the label Barbarian, and I speak with her for quite a while it seems, soaking in the energy of just starting out, the joy and excitement for her. Her dresses especially are truly beautiful, hand-painted silk... And I hope to myself that perhaps in some way I can help, one day soon or far away, and I can watch this flower grow...

Stop at DumbA next, the home away from home that I haven't frequented frequently at all as of late. It still feels like home, especially to embrace my Star Theory, to see the girls all so pretty laid out in the main room in the dark editing through absolutely gorgeous photos on the glowing screen of a Mac powerbook. We eat candy and then I need to go get home for my Final Cut Pro lesson with my little Paper Tiger. But we never get to the lesson.

Back at home in the crime lab. Next thing we all know the six of us have been sitting around for hours discussing ins and outs of so much of what's important, but mostly lingering on the matter of collective organization and systems for group processes. The night is beyond fun and I finally drag myself to bed far later than I should, but so filled with thought and hope and ideas and joy at the company I have access to. I thank the universe for each moment. Even this one, sucking down coffee and wishing I were laying warm and cozy, asleep in my lovers arms...

The Beautifuls JJ

The proprieters of Sugar Street and Migrant Media Arts....
Our own beloved J & J... Once of Brooklyn and now of Vietnam.

Dreaming Vietnam

The Media Room at Julie & Justin's in Vietnam... Wish we were there with wireless internet, good expat company and a cup of ice tea to complement the heat... This is Sugar Street.
Check their site @ http://www.sugarstreet.org

Thanks

On the road, dusk or dawn... Something like that... And I actually like Thanksgiving. I like eating feasts with relatives and somewhat relatives and the simplicity of a meal shared, and the name, meaning lets give thanks, for anything for whatever. It seems to me its a rare thing to remember, that in every moment there is something to be thankful for and we should celebrate all these little momentous moments. I am thankful for art and for love and for friendship, and for the city of concrete and steel and breaking glass contraptions. And I am thankful to escape it all in this moment to the trees and the sudden expanses of sky I almost forgot...

After After Party

Self Portrait... After the After Party with ten hours of party under my belt... From Decom on the roof at Brooklyn Sugar to Rubulad to After Party at the crime lab, and here we are past 8am and still dressed...

Andi Bird & Miss C.

Here is Andi & C. at the Temple @ Burning Man.
Check http://webbery.com/galleries/burningman/bm05/index.html
for the photographers Burning Man photos from this year...


I was really impressed that he managed to email these pictures, I never expect that people will actually connect their notes with people's emails to their rolls of film. Pleasant surprize!

Testing, 1 2 3

We're afraid of mediocrity and stay awake late day dreaming and working on our own private projects, the things we can stay alive for. Phones keep ringing off the hook today while doctors discuss borderline personality disorder in the other room but in the booth at the top of the auditorium I am safe enough.

I read through an old project last night, wading through 90 minutes of pages I haven't laid eyes on in 9 months, about as long as I have loved my love. The experience is somewhat exciting, whenever there is the possibility of something one can smile. But then one has to go to bed.