My wonderful friend Dan Fishback just closed a run of his genius new show THIRTYNOTHING at Dixon Place this month. As part of the run, each Sunday he had a complementary event series, and I was invited to participate in the most recent event: "October 23rd: THIRTYEVERYTHING - In the final event of the thirtynothing series, gay artists who have died of AIDS will be remembered with stories and performances by their surviving friends and admiring descendants. Presenters include: Jack Waters & Peter Cramer, Glenn Marla, Sur Rodney (Sur), Max Steele, Ethan Shoshan, Max Stein and Eric Rhein."
I was really struggling to come up with a way to address the AIDS generation, and the sense of scope and immense, abstract loss which people my age deal with. I felt like there is probably no one "right way" to do a piece about AIDS, and I was also thinking a lot about iconography, and how you can really ache for something to be a final, complete and "correct" interpretation or statement, but at the same time know (in the back of your head) that it can never be.
I guess I've also been thinking a lot about style. And the uses of style. And how, like, what's the most Billy Cheer way of saying David Wojnarowicz? Working, of course, under the assumption that I have a right to say that name. Here's what I came up with. (EDITED-- I took it away cuz it's getting published)
Friday's show was also good. There was press there, which I wish I didn't know about. I never want to be reviewed, basically ever. I'm far too neurotic and insecure to deal with it. So, you know. Screwed up my courage.
(That is my favorite Team Dresch song, likely yours too if you're reading this).
So even in front of press (people literally sitting at the edge of stage, with little white notebooks, taking notes), I fucked up my lines. I don't know if anyone else noticed, but I did, and I kind of beat myself up about it. A little flub. What can you do. Other than that, Friday's show was very good. It's such a trip to do something performance-wise more than once, and have, like, friends come to see it. Theater is weird.
Friday night after the play I met up with Perfect Little Daniel and Ryan at this awesome cover show at death By Audio. Jess Paps' new band HEAVENS GATE had done a Raincoats set, which I unfortunately missed. I heard it was wonderful. I saw Little Victory do their B-52s set, however, which was AWESOME. I had no idea I liked the b-52s so much! Zan looked great in a big dark beehive hairdo, giving me some postmortem Amy Winehouse effects. But what doesn't, these days? Little Victory just got a nice shout out in the Huffington Post last week, much0-deserved. I've been singing this band's praises since they started (not to brag/just to brag) and I hope they become a really fucking huge deal. They're fantastic and everyone should listen to them. After the show we went to Metropolitan and saw lovely Michael Cavadias, who is the Friday Night DJane there. Ran into a long-ago ex of mine, a functional Republican ("fiscal conservative" - I don't want to get into it), who swore up and down that it would not snow on Saturday. He seemed to think I was really silly for thinking that it would snow on Saturday.
The vindication of the actual thundering snowstorm was not enough to make up for how unpleasant it was when it did, of course, snow all day on Saturday. Ptrck and PLD and I met up with a sundry crew to discuss a sort-of secret project potentially involving elements of reality and media. All I can say is that on Saturday, we got free brunch and Irish coffees from a major media network. After this fantastic introduction, I went home to recuperate before that night's performance. Saturday's show was good, but not great. The crowd was small and quiet, which actually did make me feel better, cuz I had more space (psychically and physically) to expand. There was more press in the house. More stress in the house. I came home to pre-game for a party with the boys, but I got too tired.
I felt like I just didn't want to have any fun. You know? Like, going to a party didn't sound like it would be fun for me. Not too many things do, these days. I gotta say. I do not know what is wrong with me. Could just be another case of the Mondays. But nothing is cheering me up!
Very often feel just like this video. Angry, slow, sad. Pretty.
Anyway. I begged off on Saturday night. I bought some snacks (Kefir- the champagne of yogurts), ate some xanax, and watched Charlie Rose interview Jill Abramson. I slept.
Sunday, the boys and Erin Markey and I all went uptown to continue work on this secret project. Again, without revealing too much, I will say that there was an awesome snack table in the green room:
Nothing wholesome. Just the way I like it.
Much fun. Bridget Everett was also in the house, bringing a touch of glamour to the whole secret affair. Erin and I had to scoot downtown to get to our show last night, the official opening night. The house was packed! It was a really stellar crowd, and the energy was high, and I think I personally did the best show I did all weekend last night. More press. It never ends.
Cute baby cast party after the show. Miss Geraldine Winnifred Visco, the downtown diva herself, came to our show, and snapped this picture of me with Joseph and Erin at the party:
Gerry told me to make that face. I swear. It wasn't my idea.
After the cast party I skipped down to Participant Inc. to see MX Justin Vivian Bond's art opening "The Fall Of The House Of Whimsy". As a devoted MXJVB fan, and former guest to the old Second Ave House of Whimsy parties, it was such a treat to see the show. it's up until December at Participant, and definitely worth checking out.
Tonight is officially Halloween. I am not going out. I am staying in. I feel exhausted.
There's plenty to be scared of already. I'm not, but if I was, there'd be plenty.
So, as you may know, I have been working on a play for the last two months or so. And tonight we begin performances! So if you are in New York and reading this, you are invited to come see this show, so please do.NOW THE CATS WITH JEWELLED CLAWS
It's a really awesome project. The play is by Tennessee Williams. Absolutely one of his weirdest pieces. It has a really amazing cast, including the inimitable Michigan Wonders Joseph Keckler and Erin Markey, both of whom I fucking adore, as well as downtown debutante Regina Bartkoff and hubby Charles Shick. Starring are the legendary Mink Stole and Everett Quinton, of John Waters and Theatre of the Ridiculous fame, respectively (among illustrious others). The play is directed by Jonathan Warman, features music by Trystan Trazon and choreography by Liz Piccoli. Lovingly produced by Creative Concepts Productions.
It's a really fun and fucking insanely weird show. A total thrill to be involved in this project. I feel very honored. I hope y'all can make it!
It reminds me of this awesome quote from Fran Liebowitz from that documentary about her. She is talking (with her inexplicably Close Personal Friend Toni Morrison, natch) about writers that do not get better with age. Writers that get worse with age. She says: "If you're a writer that specializes in youth, then you're going to get worse with age." To be quite honest, that did send something of a shiver down my nubile young spine. But then again, I don't specialize in youth. I specialize in me: and up until quite recently I have been part of the Youth. You know.
Anyway, back to this weekend, when I meant to post all of this.
Saturday mornings were always a very special time in my house, because it was on weekends only when my little brother and I were allowed to play video games. Also, Friday afternoon after school was the time that we got to eat fast food, once a week. I do love designated "Me time".
The Legend of the Mystical Ninja. I have this game on my Mac. I still love it. It's really, really fucking hard.
Been listening to these two records nonstop this weekend. It definitely says something about me. Maybe that I need another vacation? Maybe I'm just in touch with the fact that I ache for other experiences, places, moods.
Thinking a bit lately about the last time I did a brand-new performance art piece, which is when I made the piece about styrofoam and recycling and Beyoncé this past summer, which you can see here.
Comme des Garçons is releasing a new perfume (named Comme des Garçons) next month, which has a cute little press description:
"we can find beautiful things, without consciousness
a fragrance that couldn’t exist in a bottle that shouldn’t exist
what qualifies anything for the right to exist?
who has the right to decide what should be rejected?
A rejected bottle survives to hold an imaginary flower constructed linearly, the fragrance opens with the man made organic composites of aldehydes and safraleine, opening up slowly to hawthorns and derivations of lilac, before exploding in a riot of flower oxides, then finally succumbing to notes of industrial glue and brown scotch tape with hints of musk and styrax
purposely taking a bottle that has been disqualified from existence and purposefully giving it its right to exist."
Nice, huh? I love that Rei Kawakubo and I are on this same wavelength about repurposing materials. How nice to use something like perfume design as a way of asking "What qualifies anything for the right to exist?" I would say that the project seems to be about recycling, but really it seems more interesting in re-making something, than, say, reducing waste.
Some more exciting things include this awesome interview with Brontez by Michelle Tea.
Love this zine so much.
OBVIOUSLY I am a huge fan of Michelle Tea's work and OBVSIOULY I adore Brontez. I am duly honored to be mentioned in this interview! Speaking of Brontez, he will be coming to NYC next month, and we will be doing a reading together, with Kat case and Joseph Whitt at PPOW Gallery on 11/9. Mark your calendars! It's gonna be amazing!
Also fantastic to note that Brontez will be touring as part of this year's Sister Spit roadshow, along with Erin Markey, Justin Vivian Bond, and Dorothy Allison. Yes, really. Doesn't that blow your fucking mind? It ought to.
Hey speaking of nice shout-outs, our dearly-departed-to-the-West-Coast-and-making-us-all-wanna-move-there homegirl Jeffery Self dropped yrs truly's name in a rad article he wrote for The Huffington Post. So into everybody! Dang.
Finally, I went this weekend to see Richard Serra's Junction / Cycle at Gagosian. I kind of went for the spectacle of it, not out of some deep need to see the work. I thought to myself, ironically "Oh, this'll be a real cheery experience."
Guess what? It totally was. I definitely think that if you are in New York, you should absolutely go and wander through Gagosian's Chelsea gallery and see these pieces. They're up till the end of November and really beautiful.
I do want, however, to intentionally kind of undermine the strength of the work by noting that one of my favorite things about the pieces was that although they are constructed of "weatherproof steel", they have the patina of beautifully carved mahogany. For me, the piece had a very retro, 1970s interior decorating feel. I loved it.
Richard Serra is kind of the Frank Sinatra of art, you know? Like, you more or less know what kind of thing to expect, and it's a fairly conservative thing. It's not the most radical thing out there. It's not, strictly speaking, an entirely new form of art-making. You can critique it on several points, up to and including it's engagement with modernity. But, like Frank Sinatra, major strength of Serra's work is this kind of de facto mastery. He is, kind of, the King. As much as I want to say "fuck off" to the creepy scary monoliths, I can't help but be in awe. Still. In spite of myself.
Two different things I wanna talk about. I guess once comes first and is in the background and the other is in front of it in the spotlight so here is what's up: My existential crise continues, sisters. I am recognizing that I have internalized some fucked up shit, and I don't know where, but it sucks. In a shitty mood. Don't know who I am or am supposed to be. Yaddah yaddah. Trying to make art about but feeling like: what could I possibly make art about? Who cares what I have to say? Why me? Y'know? Like I have to justify myself or something. I'm just tired of feeling like, bad, man. I feel like I take a lot of responsibility for people's reactions to me, which I have no control over. A period of letting go. I feel like I'm really done putting up with unwelcome funkiness from people. Grrr. Mars in Leo. So that's on my back burner.
Even talking about it, my feelings, feels like obscene, so I am still doing it but want you to know that I think it's obscene too.
Okay, so the other big thing I'm thinking about is luckily a balm to all of that. I have had a couple weeks free from rehearsal before we go back into rehearsal for the play I am in which is going to open in NYC on 10/27 (I'm going to post about it separately). And even before then, I felt like I was always kicking myself for missing this or that show, so I am making an effort to go out more, and go see more performance art work music etc. I want more!
The last couple weeks I've been so, so glad to live in New York, because I've gotten to see some really amazing things. First off, my friend James Brooks Caperton visited from SF. You may know him as the genius behind THE JUDY EXPERIENCE, who may be one of my ultimate favorite musicians ever. He always has been. We've known each other since we were 15 (!!!). His first Judy Experience record, which is out on Cochon, is one of my favorite things in the world. Everybody who I play it for falls in love with it, and James, immediately. It's the ultimate fuck music, cook music, think music. I don't know. It's dark and dreamy.
I have heard tell about his sophomore album from other friends in SF, and I know that he's been working on it for a minute. I'm very frustrated, not only as his friend who misses him, but as a hard core fan. I want that record! In fact, my original home girl Cotton made the artwork for it. I saw this image surface online but I don't know if it's the real deal but it's gorgeous and of course does a spot-on job of portraying the new music:
James came through NYC recently and screened a movie he had worked on, HIGH BI GIRLS which features the brand new Judy Experience record. The screening was at Woahmone Rising, a favorite NYC party. It is, of course, the now-legendary Satanic Psychedelic Lesbian Separatist Dance Party thrown once a month by Nath Ann Carrera and Savage Child. It was the perfect home for James' movie, which was so Californian, trippy, beautiful and sexy. Nath Ann had a part in it too. Kids in the desert and melting into the sky. It was rad. The Extra Special Nice Thing is: James Brooks gave me a CD of the new Judy Experience music! From the movie! It's totally my new favorite record, and I don't know any of the songs' names. It's a lot more guitar-driven than the last record. Sort of, I think I would use the word "metal". But there're also, towards the end of album, some particularly delicious saxophone screech psycho runaway train rendezvous as well. He's such a perfectionist. He's got his sound together. It's really inspiring.
Okay, and then, Friday, I went to two shows. First, I went to FUNNY GIRLS TO THE FRONT a female comic cabaret at the New Museum. I got to be a back-up dancer in Erin Markey's piece. She sang "Hips Don't Lie" by Shakira and I was one of two dancing mummies, along with the Irish Horse.
The show was so much fun! Erin's number was great, OBVIOUSLY. She's a totally bonkers singer. She totally tore that song open, almost as if she was from some alternate universe, far more advanced than our own, and approached the song form the position of an alien princess. It made so much more sense when Erin sang it. I was deeply honored to be on the same stage as her, duh.
Another highlight was miss Bridget Everett, as always. She sang three original numbers, and wore a really wonderful gold dress, which she told us was named The Chardonnay Shocker:
She is such a beautiful angel. Baby girl. Bridget Everett is a powerful performer. I don't just mean that she's a great dancer, riotously funny, and such a good singer that she makes grown men cry. She's powerful in that she can command a crowd, with an eyebrow raise, though usually she does a bit more than just insinuate. She was fantastic and energizing and thought I am politically opposed to name dropping, I constantly tell anyone who will listen that she played my mom on TV (she did!) and I love her so.
Then I high-tailed it over to see Dan Fishback's new show, THIRTYNOTHING, which is about the AIDS generation, and ours.
I had put off seeing this show in its previous iterations, because I thought it would bum me out. And seeing it, I can tell you that I was wrong. I was not bummed out by his show. I was really turned-on and excited and, mostly it put me in touch with a deep sense of gratitude. I'm glad that Dan is making the work he is, illustrating the connections he is, and making things that much more possible for the rest of the ungrateful world. It was a hilarious and touching show. It made me feel really proud of Dan, and not just because he is my friend and I love him. It's a fantastic show and it is still playing in New York. If you are in town, or know someone who is, RUN DON'T WALK TO GO SEE THIS SHOW.
Feeling really happy and thankful for so much great work! Fuck.
Saturday, I had coffee with my One Straight Male Friend Who I Adore, Marcus. He is getting his PhD and will be a real live Analyst. He is deeply intelligent, sensitive, and fucking hilarious guy. I love him to death. We have so much fun together, drinking coffee and sitting in the park and just... talking. Like a pair of old ladies. About our lives, feelings, the Universe, the City, whatever. It made me feel really present and happy. We went uptown to Barney's to look at clothes and complain about the prices. He'll sometimes let me pick his brain about Analysis, and as someone who is on an extended break form therapy, it's fucking hilarious and fascinating to learn what the therapist is thinking about (from a practical standpoint) while the patient is on the couch. It's great.
Came home for a bit, and then went to CLUMP, the genius anarchist drag party thrown by Miss Colin Self. The theme this month was a tribute to BJORK, which was of course perfect. Performances by Clarissa Theteenagewith and Raul De Nieves along with Miss Colin were all highlights. Poetess, comic and psychic Caroline Contillo was there to perform, but there were technical difficulties and she couldn't and I'm still disappointed. Damn. We high-tailed it over to the city, to go to a totally batshit crazy gay dance party in TriBeCa called MONKEY ISLAND. It was nuts. Too too much fun, and the cops came. What the fuck, cops? Anyway, much fun!
This week, I went to dinner at my good buddy Walt Cessna's house, with lovely Nicholas Gorham. These kids keep me strong, man! So hilarious! Walt is such a good cook, and it was lovely to hang out. Again: things to put on the list of things that make you feel real. He also lives in the Upper East Side, which is my favorite neighborhood in NYC.
And then tonight, I just went and saw an excerpt performance of Young Jean Lee's UNTITLED FEMINIST SHOW. I of course know who Lee is, but had never seen her work performed. The show was fucking great. Thee Irish Horse is in it. I can't wait to see the full thing performed in January! There was audience participation, in the form of surveys that were filled out in between movement sequences. Ways of gauging the audience's opinion, and reminding them of their viewership. The movement/theatre work was really interesting too. It looked like, to me, and this was echoed by others in the room during the talk-back, that the show was a lot of fun to do. It seemed like a place we'd want to be. It seems like something the audience wants to be "in on". At the same time, it also looks really hard. Like, a lot of work. The movement itself is deliberate, poetic, sparse, smart, legible and pleasurable. It was really inspiring.
Again, I feel really grateful for the last week. Jeez. There's a lot of good things to think about, to take the place of these existential questions. What are any of these people's shows about, really? Everyone's show is about, ostensibly, the way they see the world. Right? When you get right down to it, the documentary film is about how that documentary filmmaker made that one documentary film.
I've had this really deep-seated fear lately that all I was capable of was making art work, having ideas about, or articulating only myself. Like, I only know how to talk about the way that I talk. That's all I think that I am qualified to speak to. And I think this might not be such a shameful thing, really. This might not mark me for the life-long ridicule I act as if I lived with. I might not be a total fuck-up, actually. There might be a context for this. There might be an audience? There might be something comprehensible to someone else. Maybe not. Either way, I won't know until I at least try it.
"Overall, you will be so fortunate to have Mars in Leo all month, and until November 11. This will make you feel sexy and vibrant, and best of all, Mars in Leo will put you back in control again. The past few months may have found you feeling that your support from influential people was slipping, but now you can correct all that, for soon you will be on top of your game again. Keep pushing. You will only have until November 11."
Significant things happen, really strange and elaborate communications take place here on the internet. Sometimes I get asked to advertise things, for money or for some other reasons, and I feel like a real jerk. Because I think "I don't even advertise myself, goddess damn it." And I think that maybe I ought to. (Obviously the concept of the blog). SO if you want to pay me for ads in the blog or give me stuff in exchange for me writing about you, that would be okay now, I guess. Because I want to just catch everybody up on where they can buy the zine I write Scorcher. It's no secret: you can buy it from Birdsong Micropress. Duh.
But I wanted to show some links to things, since I feel like I want to reiterate my right to say a few things about myself. Some commercials!
Here is an interview with me (along with excerpts of me reading) done by Poetry Thin Air (it's kinda long, TV episode length, natch):
Shot by the inimitable and legendary Mich Corber.
Is there a feminine equivalent to the word "natch"? Maybe there doesn't need to be, a sweater will stretch.
And here's a video of me reading at the New Museum last October, opening for Miss Dennise Cooper as part of the THEM & Now series, co-curated by the awesome SPANK Magazine:
That One Time I Had A Highly Choreographed Riot Grrrl Pantomime Reaction To A Dumb Boy:
Notes: a) it's tobacco b) I was in a bad mood that day and c) the guy's band doesn't suck (who am I to judge).
Then, finally, I wanted to re-upload this little gem, WAIT FOR THE DAWN::
Track 4 of 6 on REGULARMOTION's first DVD/Album, GRAPHIC.GLORY. Directed, shot, and edited by Richert Schnorr. Featuring me dancing along with Miriam Levin (who we all love and miss very much).
Okay. Great. Please buy my zines from Tommy. The back issues are really good too. They're all good.
Best Friend in the Whole World, BOBO sent me a package yesterday. It included this cap, which she knitted for me, which is PERFECT. It sort of matched my hair (or what I would imagine my natural hair color to be), and it arrived at the perfect time. Yesterday was the first really cold day of the year. She also sent me this really cute multicolored polka dot t shirt she got at a thrift store. It's like the perfect package. I miss her so much. She recently moved to Seattle and is working at an Ethiopian restaurant and I want so badly to hop over there to get free food and bug her at work and I just MIGHT DO THAT with no warning. Be warned, Seattle: there can be no warning. Also today she starts GRADUATE SCHOOL to learn how to do Art Therapy. Isn't that rad? Congratulations, Bo! She is maybe my favorite person in the whole world.
Also, I found these F/W 2009 BLACK Comme des Garçons shirts for sale online, which is a little surprising, and I am losing it. i want one of these so bad. I just couldn't bring myself to drop the cash on it. If there are any millionaires or even thousandaires ("Hundredaire" is my favorite song by Hey Willpower) reading this, tonight, I want to just let you know that if you want to decide to buy me this shirt, that would be totally okay and I would write some kind of love letter or something about you. I'm down to be sponsored as long as I get to pick what I want. The point is, I am trying to manifest this shirt into my life. I didn't scrape it together to buy one when they were in season at the boutiques, and when MARKET MARKET happened, they only had them in Small and they didn't fit, and I still want one so bad. I feel like them coming up online for sale is totally a sign that they should be mine, right? So I'm using the Secret to imagine that somehow, a size Medium of the yellow dyed plaid will arrive at my doorstep. These are for sale at RSVP Gallery.
"Secret, secret, secret."
Listening to The Agony is The Ecstasy by Miss Lydia A. Lunch (she's a Gemini, I mean, duh, right?)
This record pretty much perfectly expresses what I call "A Case of the Mondays". The other side is a live Birthday Party show and Nick sounds predictably sexy on it.
I guess, I just sort of feel like being cute and being clever are kind of played out. And in the way where, y'know, it's okay to be played out. If that's your trip. But at the same time, I feel like paying ransom to the dominant capitalist culture is kind of fucked up, too. Like, in a way, making art about the living out this fucked up patriarchal fantasy is, in a way, sort of reinforcing these power structures, no?
I wanna talk about Alice Walker's book Possessing the Secret of Joy.
I was actually sitting my bedroom the other day, fuming, thinking about how I have all this shit in my room which I really do not need. All these clothes with holes in them or that are too small or I never wear, but I can't bear to part with because I've had these tattered things since high school. And I was thinking about how I have, basically, every book I read in college. And I was staring at my copy of Possessing..., thinking, "I will probably never want to read this book, ever again." It's so tough! I mean, it's beautiful, obviously, but it's really hard. I think Alice Walker's writing is so particularly American. And I mean this as a compliment. I spent a year in college reading nothing but novels Alice Walker, Toni Morrison and Gloria Naylor. And Walker isn't even necessarily my favorite of the three, but she does seem to me to be the most American, in a way. So whatever, this book, Possessing the Secret of Joy, is about female circumcision, but it's also about culture, and history, and context, and trying to wrap your head around someone who is so different than you. It's about how to recognize the Other and the Self, I think. It's really beautiful. Maybe I will read it again. The reason I'm thinking of it this morning, though, is that one of Walker's epigraphs at the beginning of the text is form a bumper sticker, and says:
WHEN THE AX CAME INTO THE FOREST, THE TREES SAID THE HANDLE IS ONE OF US.
Heavy, right? Now, I don't want to compare anything to anything, and certainly not the kind of capitalist "art culture" I'm bitching about to systemic worldwide oppression of women, BUT I do think this pithy lil quote has some resonance. Like: we can recognize parts of ourselves in our dark fantasies.
Another example: We can tell when we are being marketed to. We know when the fantasies are being
ANOTHER KATHLEEN HANNA QUOTE THAT MAKES ME THINK A LOT:
"I know when I first started, I said things like, It’s really great to be beautiful and powerful and sexy, and I take a little bit of that back now. What I was saying was that you don’t have look a certain way or have a certain hairstyle to be a feminist; that just because a girl wears lipstick that doesn’t mean she’s not a feminist. But now I realize that I wasn’t really challenging the standard of beauty. A friend said to me, Why is it so subversive to be beautiful in the traditional sense? I think it’s much more subversive to create your own form of beauty and to set your own standards. She’s right. "
Like: FREE YOUR MIND. I dunno. Sometimes we think that the only way to be happy is to be like the things we see on TV (or something) and then eventually you get all of those things and what, really, changes?
I did have a nice weekend, though, despite feeling kinda gross. Friday I hung out with Cole and Ptrck the Witch and PLD and Cole's little friend Daniel at the house. We had some red wine, then some St. Ides' which P swears by, and can drink and then go compose a multimedia orchestral piece without blinking, but if I have so much as a whiff of St. Ides' I immediately turn into a drunken tadbole, shivering wet and slimy on my kitchen floor. WHO am I kidding? Anyway so I had a little to drink and then we went to the Metropolitan. After five minutes I was ready to go. And I got a sandwich from Hana Food ("Still a Virgin") and was really happy about it. I slept really shittily though, and managed to fuck up my neck somehow. I woke up early and hungover and exhausted on Saturday and wrote that stuff above about Alice Walker, then went to go meet up with Erin Markey for coffee. She's so fucking cool, I can barely act like I'm not totally starstruck by her when we hang out. She got me a coffee and the girls at the coffee shop were totally flirting with her (duh) and she reminded me that she is the Coolest Person Ever, by saying (when the cashier girl batted here eyelashes and said "Thaahaaaank You") "Merry Christmas".
I went home for a second to try to take a nap (unsuccessfully) and then went to go see Jess Paps' new band HEAVENS GATE play a free acoustic show as part of a goodbye festival thing outside of Monster Island. It was so nice! It reminded me of the many (many) shows I played in high school outside the 16th St. & Mission BART station, with a generator plugged into the bus stop. And then all those cute acoustic shows in college. Did you know that for a long time I just played the cello and ukulele and sang? Someday there might be a college class called Emo Studies. Maybe there already is.
Um anyway. Heavens Gate was so good! Seeing them acoustic was really nice. I love Jess' lyrics in that band a lot. It was kind of a perfect show. After Jess' show I went home and tried again to take a nap with no more luck. PLD and I went to this cool group show in Bushwick at this space called Famous Accountants. The show was called VIEW OF OUTER SPACE FROM AN AQUARIUM featuring really cool pieces by a lot of really amazing artists, Scott Hug, Michael Magnan, Scooter LaForge, Rachel Mason, the Mogutin-Kennys and Genesis P. Orridge. (I once saw someone giving a talk about upcoming events where they pronounced Their name "Genesis Porridge" and nobody corrected the announcer, and it was funny and awkward). Anyway the show was really great! Definitely worth a trip. Highly recommended.
Saturday afterward, I go-go danced at QxBxRx, NYC's best (and only) queer punk rock party. I am continually proud and excited about this party, and I've been go-going it there for a minute or two. Lovely as always to dance with Lusty Johnny Darling, who was sporting a fee-ahce multicolored wig, looking like a bona fide LA Metal Babe. (Have y'all ever heard of that band SLASH'S SNAKEPIT? Is that the best name for a band ever?) QxBxRx was, as I am sure you can imagine, too much fun. But Cole and Erin and Thee Irish Horse and deer hearts Sam McKinnis and Sister Pico and PLD all came through. So you know I had a blast. We saw Bridget Everett perform, and it's another one of those things where I just can't keep it together. Too much fun. All weekend.
Sunday I got up and I painted my nails blue with the new Chanel denim-inspired nail polish:
It's really pretty, and it goes with my blonde hair.
Sunday, I went to the NY Art Book Fair. And saw, oh, you know, fucking everybody in the entire world all crammed into one room. It was fucking insane. I was totally overwhelmed but I did have a nice time. I bought the new issue of 'SUP Magazine, which is great! Fantastic Mister Milan Zrnic took a bunch of the photos for the issue, which are absolutely beautiful. He is so beyond talented. I only know really cute and talented people. I guess at a certain point I decided (subconsciously?) not to mix with ugly or untalented or mean people anymore, and I haven't. I live, now, in a perpetual state of blushing, bursting with pride for pretty much everyone. It's a nice feeling. A good situation, you should try it some time.
After the book fair, I went home and tried one more time to take a nap (NOPE) and then went to meet up with Jiddy No-No to go see Erase Errata at Glasslands! What the fuck! I was exhausted, but Jiddy is so funny and adorable, and we had a little bit of whiskey, and it was Erase Errata! It was like a dream. Like, I felt like I Was not awake. Was this really happening? EE added a keyboardist, which sounds really new and great and definitely different. They played a bunch from the last album, at least one from At Crystal Palace, nothing from Other Animals, but they DID play "A Passion for Acting" as well as "Cat and Canary" and I totally lost it. I love that song. It's the first song I ever saw them perform, in like 2001, and it totally blew me away and might be a favorite of all time. Gosh I'm sleepy just even remembering. I bought a sandwich and took a cab home from Bedford which I almost never do but I really wanted to sleep.
And now I want to sleep a little bit more.