HAPPY HALLOWEEN

Watch this video.

BOSTON NOIR

Rizzla spun records at zuzu last night, with some new young girl, a good DJ and she's super cute. Her name escapes me presently. Anyway, it was fun. Ezra was in town for the night, Ellen and I danced, Marissa came through. Sweet, comic valentine.

Is your figure less than greek? Is your mouth a little weak when you open it to speak? Are you smart? But don't change a hair for me -not if you care for me. Stay little valentine, stay. Each day is valentine's day.

there she is, giving a lot of look.

Ezra.

THE AGE OF CONSENT, A NEW ORDER OF LOVE.

REAL MOVES

Last night was REALLY GOOD. xo to every dreamgirl that made it happen. Ugghh finally someone has a fucking major piece of property and the good sense to host a 200-person two-story dance party. Brian spun records. Everyone else danced, drank and took drugs. The cops wrapped things up at a respectable 2:15am.

Logan

Ike

HEY WORLD

Andrew

arpy

ben

jeremy

rizzla

jesse

for Stephen Brown

Yesterday, word spread quickly throughout the Hartford Art School alumnus that painting professor Stephen Brown had finally died from the cancer he'd been fighting for several years. He was 59 years old.

Stephen taught me how to paint. He was an old-school realist portrait, landscape and still-life painter, respresented by Forum Gallery, New York. Originally from Colorado, he was kind of a cowboy in the way that he would pretend to be tougher than he ever was, wore cowboy hats, leather jackets and boots. He always had piles of old beaded Indian shit lying around his office. These things served no purpose other than to suit his ridiculous western-styled persona. I loved him.

He was a keenly sensitive artist, humble, quiet. Or he was arrogant and loud, pushy and crass. He loved to curse in public and talk about Christian spirituality in private. He was devoted artistically to the human body. I think he wanted to record the sanctity and the perversion of human life and its narratives, with poignant, simple composition. He believed in observation as revelation, in tradition, in western art history, in men, in women, in his kids. When we learned of his illness Stephen made no secret of it, and made his struggle for wellness a classroom teaching aid. It was heartbreaking and it still is.

During my senior year, he didn't want to be in the art school studios much, so class would take him to Lena's for pitchers of beer and talk about what the fuck we were going to do with a fine art degree. I think the lesson was that all you can really do with a BFA in painting is hang out at bars and talk about painting. What wisdom. I take comfort in that now as I did then, and I'm thankful for having had such a wonderful teacher.

Stephen Brown, Laura, 2001-04, oil on panel, 25.5 x 14.25 inches

SOMETIMES

Totally obsessed with this video and song. 'Sometimes' - Miami Horror. At least partly because the boy in the video reminds me of Matt Livick. ...

HUNK FEST

More pictures below of What Cheer at Honk Fest, this time in Harvard Square on Sunday afternoon. Beautiful. Totally inspiring. I dislike my digital photos, usually. I think that most of the time they are but half-good, illustrate very little, accomplish nil other than to provide blog content and an activity to perform at parties besides hang out, drink and smoke. And we all know, the blog exists to serve my ever-growing vanity and narcissism.

That said, I think these pics are pretty good, and I think they do a lot to illuminate just how fucking positive and energizing the What Cheer performance was. Look at how young, aesthetic and in charge they are. Even if only temporally; 'twas purely inclusive, participatory joy.

Anna freaking me

other bands make their way over to watch What Cheer

on their way, marching back to Davis Square