BYE, KATIE

First of all, I got a job, and I now remind myself of SJP's character from "LA Story"...

Secondly, every one of my pictures from last night is out of focus and unflattering, so I hope you're ready. I am absolutely losing interest in this bullshit blog. Brian just laughed at me because I'm wearing sunglasses indoors to look at the computer screen. I am in such a state right now.

Last night we celebrated Z's birthday, Katie H going off to go get an MFA in Iowa (which is actually terrible and sad for those of us in Boston), me getting a job, and Rizzla and D'Hana's first monthly night at ZuZu's. Obviously we had a long list of reasons to be out and I never wanted to stop cheersing everybody's beer. Thats like my way of networking.

Matt

another Matt

Hey Pen

D'Hana and Rizzla

a fight

SO LONG, KATIE HARGRAVE.

peace bitch hey Adiya

snow revival

Last night we went out to the Brandons' revival party at Middlesex. Its such a good party, I wish they weren't calling it quits. It feels exactly what art school house parties felt like on a Monday. Tons of gays, hot women, Martha Reeves, fashion eyewear, sweat, b.o, and warm whiskey shots.

Speaking of art school dumb hipster crap, while we were dancing and feeling great last night, Dash Snow was in New York, busy dying of a heroine overdose. How glamourous. Anyway, no. I think the only thing I ever liked about Dash Snow was his cool name and wondering if the coke in his Biennial installation was real. Its been such a bad month for celebrities. If I were a celeb, I think I would just stay at home, lock the door and turn off the phone.

what an indelible loss.

beauties

From the last few days:

hello beautiful

Ben's raging multi-culturalism

babes

uggghhh more babes.

Jin, Pennie, Ike

so beautiful. milky way, JP.

lone wolf's final todo mundo party at milky way

hello gorgeous.

the history of glamour

Brian and I recently saw the Valentino doc, "The Last Emperor." So good. When Kim Carnes started Bette Davis Eyes in the title sequence, I almost lost it.

queers on tuesday

Every Tuesday night at ZuZu is goddam gay from now on, thanks to some unholy union between D'hana, Rizzla and Kevin Lone Wolf Driscoll. I think there are some other people involved too but I don't know who they are. Beautiful. Last night Lone Wolf and J. Colbourne spun ridiculous disco, r&b, hip hop, dancehall etc. Next Tuesday we're expecting it should be gayer and straighter at the same goddam time, if you can believe it. I think the word is pansexual.

driscoll

some B's

Rizzla

hello Adrian

xo Ellen

THE WAY

Not long ago, I found this Bible from 1972 and took it home because the front cover and illustrations are exquisite. Its a Bible meant to appeal and speak directly to young people coming of age in that glory decade, the late '60s and early '70s, maybe as an antidote to the casual sex, drug use, rock & roll, anti-war rebellion and the invent of youth culture. Likely it was a tool for turning kids onto God by camouflaging the scripture with a veil closely resembling an LP cover.

Regardless, I'm taking some heavy style inspiration from The Way, in a general sense. I'm always looking out for sublime visions of youth, and perhaps unintentionally the organization which developed this edition, Youth for Christ International, put out a really beautiful book encapsulating a confusing, heady mix of inspirationalism, idealism, individualism, prudence, wrecklessness, love, condemnation and sex appeal.

Years later, when I came of age, efforts to win back the youth of America spawned the Christian Rock Music genre, a hugely profitable oxymoron, complete with summer music festivals for free love-in-Christ, devoid of any sex whatsover and certainly never free, but rather, kind of expensive.

my favorite.

old weird america

David Rathman

Yesterday, went to the DeCordova Sculpture Park & Museum to see the Old, Weird America exhibition. Its one of the best group shows on any topic I've ever seen. Maybe I just like the subject of American art in particular, American histories, tragicomic mythmaking, or maybe I just like this group's emphasis on painting. Its also a lack of anything overly pedantic or cause-oriented. Instead, the artists are appropriately conflicted about complicated, contradicting histories and subsequently their "national identity." My favorites include Barnaby Furnas, David Rathman, Matthew Day Jackson, David McDermott and Peter McGough, but most importantly, two small and rarely seen canvases by Jeremy Blake (as well as a video, Winchester, which is also gorgeous).



One of the two small Blake paintings is a lovely portrait of nineteen-sixties Bob Dylan. The other is of a pink vinyl-sided suburban house, looking very middle-American and bland, yet flush with hallucinogen-enhanced clairvoyance and signature glam-euphoria, which to me, indicates some freedom-loving teen must be living in big pink, maybe somewhere in the Inland Empire but just as likely located in podunk, backwater Michigan. I still often think about Jeremy Blake and how fucking awesome he was. Seeing a couple of paintings plus one of the DVD projections in the company of this terrific show was awfully good.

Jeremy Blake