Friday night I performed at Dixon Place's HOT! Festival. Alongside the luminary Glenn Marla, whose "Man Boobs" was scintillating. La JohnJoseph's show, "Notorious Beauty", was galvanizing, but we knew that already. I performed in the middle.
Look, friends: I hate bragging. I hate it when people brag to me, even if they deserve it. I have a tremendously negative self-image and am proud of that. You will never catch me talking about how talented and wonderful I think I am.
This being said, I think that my new show, still a work in-progress, was successful. I could not have performed for a more perfect audience of friends. So many of the amazing other younger artists, in the weird downtown performance art scene were there. I was honored to be showing my work to this crowd. I got really good feedback. Meaning: people noticed the things I wanted them to notice. Like that scene in that dumb Miranda July movie, where she goes "Macaroni"? Like that.
Making art or writing or whatever is like being a very lonely satellite. You ache and you ache and you work and you play with sentences and phrases and codes and euphemisms and devices and gestures. And you hope, you pray that somewhere out there someone will hear you. Somewhere in the audience someone is going to understand, will maybe "get it". I'm not so narcissistic to expect people to like me, to have my art be their favorite work. I don't want you to LIKE it I want you to UNDERSTAND WHERE I'M COMING FROM. And on Friday I felt like people sort of did.
This is all the more exciting because the other cool thing going on in my life is this Thursday. I'm participating in an event for a Chelsea gallery show. Readers of this blog and friends from my life will no doubt know my storied past with Chelsea, being rejected for every job in NYC's commercial art universe. It's totally insane to me that I was invited to participate in this, it feels like I'm getting away with murder. As a reader we were asked to read something of our own (I'll be reading "Puppeteer: Gold Codes" from Scorcher) in addition to something by Wojnarowicz or someone of his coterie. I've chosen a piece by someone in his coterie and I hope it goes over well.
555 W 25th ST NYC
Things are picking up. I go-go danced on Saturday night at QxBxRx, NYC's best (only?) gay punk party. Sunday I saw my favorite band the Breeders play a free show. I have some secret plans, projects, offers. I can't go into it, but I feel very lucky. And very busy! I had the distinct thought this afternoon that I am so, so glad I'm not going out with anybody. Not responsible for anyone else. What I mean to say is that I'm glad I'm not going out with anyone I have to take care of. The last thing I want to do before falling asleep every night is "check in". Is that bitchy? I guess if I met someone perfect things would change. But for real, boys are generally so dumb.
It's really exciting. I feel like as a writer / performer (I usually just say "artist" but I'm told that's pretentious. Erm, too pretentious) I'm starting to find my voice. My logic is expanding.
It's like learning to read, and the book is me.
(Can you tell that the sun is going into Leo?)