keep going

chet

don

zac

not a French Impressionist

Hernan Bas

Gustave Caillebotte

I went to Brooklyn this weekend to meet up with pretty baby, visit Victor and everybody else. Went to the Brooklyn Museum on Sunday to see the Hernan Bas show and the Gustave Caillebotte show. The Caillebotte show was better. Bas is pretty good. I appreciate his general themes, his devotion to aestheticism and taste in men, but if you look at the Caillebotte picture above and think about his others like it, you can see how badly Bas wants to live the life of a gay French impressionist circa 1880. Seeing Caillebotte immediately after the Bas exhibit, you can almost hear Bas whining somewhere in the near-distance about how miffed he is about missing out on the whole situation.

I won't get into it any further. Regardless, I love the Brooklyn Museum and I love the Feminist Art Collection and the African Art Wing and the hideous replica of the Statue of Liberty and the fabulous Gilbert Stuart life-size standing portrait of George Washington, America's dad.

Anyway, on Saturday night we partied in Wburg with all of these lovely people:

hey Claire

hey Victor

hey Isabelle hey Cynthia

Victor punching my fucking face

he looks like such a nice boy.

YEAH hey Tya

hey Dan hey Lindsay

ugghh cutest picture of all time

hey Diego

googling

love all night

oops its 4am at McDonalds.

WITH A CHAINSAW

Last night was Pink Cocktail Hour at Real Art Ways, and I was brought in to help promote the Odd Ball on April 4th, the fundraiser for RAW. My stripper friend Kyle was originally supposed to model, but as it turns out, Real Art Ways has already blown the stripper-budget for this year. KNS convinced one of the interns to step in and take his clothes off, because we shouldn't have to go without, even in these trying times.

So I came in and did my thing, drank champagne, took calling cards from tons of old fags, talked shop in Kristina's office, then left to have dinner with Edgardo, Gabriela, Gordon, Herman, Natalie and Natacha. It was lovely. Drank more champagne and then went to bed. I think I'm meeting pretty baby in New York today and want to see the Hernan Bas show tomorrow so I can say "oh please."

BUY YOUR TICKETS

the intern

Dave, who runs Pink Cocktails. Apparently, someone on his secret mailing list has to die and free up space before you can get on the list, because its too long and hard to keep track of. Its a pretty exclusive waiting list. THE SUBURBAN UNDERGROUND POWER GAY NETWORK

a raging sea of homosexuals

LATER ON:

KNS at Gabriela's

Herman's shirts

Gordon

Gabriela at Herman's, her painting in back

a lit match!

Yves Klein sucks

Richard Burbridge

So, tomorrow evening I am body-painting a live model at Real Art Ways for Pink Cocktail Hour, the monthly secret power-gay networking event. They're having me do this to build excitement for the Odd Ball which is on April 4th, which will be a whole night of nude models wearing body paint + art fans drinking heavily. If you're a young gay man looking for a sugardaddy, you should totally come tomorrow! I think its at 4:30. I'm hardpressed to find anyone who actually does body painting right. The obvious historical precedent is Yves Klein, and I think he is fucking lame. Of course I'm probably wrong, Klein is probably really awesome cutting edge hip modernist blah blah blah, but I think some French creep dragging a naked woman across a blank canvas is repulsive and sexist, and I wish he would have jerked off at home in private like everybody else. whatevz.

Casey Spooner seems so much cooler, even if his career didn't exactly pan out the way everyone wanted it to.