Pig in the City

Was it really only a year ago that I was in Berlin, visiting my my friend and inspiration La JohnJoseph? I guess just over a year ago.

That most recent trip to Berlin was when I met Sophie Iremonger. I've gotta say, I immediately thought she was the coolest, nicest, funniest girl. I was surprised that she was so friendly when I met her, I expect sublimely cool people to be rude, or mean, or aloof, but she wasn't any of those things. I think maybe the first or second thing she said to me, after we were introduced, was something along the lines of "What's your guilty pleasure?" I don't remember what the exact question was, but within about a minute of meeting me, she had coaxed me into giving both her and La JJ a breathless description of my favorite pair of sweatpants (my guilty pleasure). Later that week, La JohnJoseph took me to see some of Sophie's paintings at an art show in Neukölln. Even if I hadn't been charmed by Sophie's personality, which I was, I would have been charmed by her paintings.

Wreckage with Nectar

Sophie's work is complex, kinetic and sort of demented (in a good way). Counter-intuitive logic. You can see more pictures of her work online, such as on HER BLOG which mercifully has detailed photos of the pieces. Check out the archive of her older work as well.

Unwanted seduction in pleasure city

Boy Genius Travis Jeppesen wrote a typically fantastic article for Art In America about the art scene in Berlin, and I think aptly described Sophie's aesthetic as "a radical primitivism". He also got this scintillating quote from Sophie:
"Glamour, the erotic and nostalgia: those are the building blocks of my practice," says painter Sophie Iremonger, who moved to Berlin after finishing art school in her native Dublin in 2008. "I'm not an old master painter," she asserts. "I'm a woman. And I'm here now."

Life and Death at the Pleasure Dome II

The cool thing about Sophie's work is that in person it is overwhelming. It's like catching up with your best friend from summer camp. It is dizzying, intimidating, but also seductive, and with multiple points of access. The menagerie of recognizable animals, modernist lingo, and deliberately Layered Layers all leads you into Sophie's day-glo psychedelic fantasy. And if you're in NYC right now, you have the opportunity to be here now with Sophie and her work. Her work is going to be part of an exhibition at the La MAMA Galleria, and she is raising funds so that she can come, herself, to the show. PLEASE GIVE HER YOUR MONEY. Even a little bit.

I think it's going to be a very special show. Not least because it's being organized by Miss Matt Nasser, and will also feature Stevie Hanley, another legendary Berlin-based artist featured in Travis' article. Or, I should say, ex-Berliner, since Stevie recently relocated to Chicago to continue her painting studies. This is going to be a very special show, and I would very much like it if you people could give a buck or two to Sophie's travel budget!

Some of Stevie's brilliant work:

Inside Mountain Looking Out

Rain Down The Harvest

I don't normally write about fundraising for other people's artwork, for a number of really good reasons, but I did recently mention this upcoming project by Sally Johnson -x- B.CALLA: A Alternatives, because I threw them some cash, and I thought it looks like a cool project, and it got funded! So it's possible.

Speaking of cool European Artists you should support, art star Stuart Sanford is working on a very ambitious project, SEBASTIAN, and could also use your help. Please check it out!

Finally, I forgot to post this earlier, but there's a new video by Brontez' band The Younger Lovers, which is blowing my mind. So beautiful, so tough.

Okay everybody.


Body Luck

There's a lyric in one of the many brilliant songs by Rebecca Pearcy (check them out duh) where she says that one of the coolest things about waking up next to someone is being able to tell them about your dreams. That sounds nice. I'm curious about both
a) Remembering your dreams, which I never do but want very much to start doing, and
b) Noticing the sort of fringe-benefits of life. Like, okay, that's a benefit of waking up next to someone. I would hazard that one of my favorite things about performing is getting to spy on a big huge (or small, as the case may be) group of people. What if you could buy proximity? Would it be expensive?

This is the crowd that had gathered to watch this band perform at an opening a few months ago. I actually forgot all the relevant details but just found this photo. I love it. Everyone's so excited but the band is playing on a roof top.

Monday night Tommy and I went to go see the Ai Weiwei documentary "NEVER SORRY" which was suitable brilliant. Thinking lately about Pussy Riot and the nature of political artwork (what does that even mean)? Shocked, in a way, by the culture of apathy we're all part of here in the US. Making art about, essentially, our own comfort. How strange, demented. Maybe I'm just being pessimistic. I liked the documentary so much! I was suitably freaked out by it, of course.

Ai Weiwei with Godhead Rei Kawakubo. This photo is so fucking weird to me. 

Mother Dosha Devastation on Saturday. 

Yesterday I did have an exceedingly difficult day, and as I was leaving work I got wind of a free show that Miho Hatori was playing at the rooftop of the Standard Hotel. An early improv free show. How great. I hustled home to run some quick errands and change clothes, and then hot-footed it back to the city.

Walking through the East Village, I saw a sort of not-too-fancily-dressed lady walking ahead of me drop a $5 bill. I grabbed it and ran up to her to hand it back to her. Without even thinking. She was effusive in thanking me, but I sort of nodded and walked away. I got so mad at myself, a second later, for not keeping the money. I though I was such a fool. But then I let it go, figuring that this leaves the Universe open to giving me an even better surprise gift.

So I got to the Hotel, and I accidentally rode the elevator up with Ms. Hatori. The view from the rooftop was amazing. I had never been there before. I indulged in an extremely expensive cocktail. Eventually, at dusk, the show began. She performed seated, with two drummers and a bassist, a myriad of loops, sound effects, and bits and pieces.

It was amazing. It really was. It was also deeply inspiring. I almost never think to improvise musical pieces, but I guess a lot of what B0DYH1GH does comes from me and Perfect Little Daniel improvising, and then refining what we improvise. Many of our songs begin as improv, jams, I guess. It's so rad when you let your unconscious take over. You never know what you're going to find, but it's always sort of uncannily familiar, because it's yours. It's you. It's just you while you were asleep.

This is another part of why I want to start remembering my dreams. I'm scared of them though. But being scared is a silly reason not to do something.

Anyway, Miho's set was amazing! Clearly the ensemble had worked well together before. They seemed to be very comfortably moving from one type of music to another, bouncing between different rhythms, sounds, etc. The dual-drummer thing was so cool as well. I was just thinking about SWANS, their brilliant new album, and how they had two drummers (they might still have two?). I like the idea of interlocking grooves.

I saw Cibo Matto perform once when I was in high school and it was so amazing. Imperial Teen opened. I had never seen Miho perform elsewhere, until last summer when I went to go see Cibo Matto perform at the Bowery Ballroom-- and that show was amazing. But seeing her perform totally original, brand new (right-this-second) material, was so cool. She's such an underrated vocalist, and seeing her perform in this beautiful setting, against the sunset and twinkling lights of the NYC skyline, for a pretty small crowd, for free, made me so glad I live in this city.

Okay, but outside, after the show, on the roof deck. I was playing with my phone (I just got Instagram) and I saw a sort of rude-looking older guy talking on the phone about hotels, asking if the rooms had singles or doubles. He dropped a bill from his pocket and kind of walked away, on the phone. I was staring at the bill on the ground. Was this my chance to make some free money? Or another opportunity to build my karmic score?

Neither. The bill dropped, and I spent about twenty seconds eyeing it, before a guy with a nearby group of people jumped over and picked it up. He may well have seen the guy drop it, and seen that the guy was only a few feet away, still on the phone, oblivious. The guy who picked up the money, though, definitely saw me. He saw that I was clocking him, and he looked away, telling the people he was with "I just found a hundred dollars". So, okay. Not for me. Something bigger or better will come along. I feel like a bit of a fool. But as they say: easy come, easy go. It wasn't my money. I want my money.

I came home, made a huge salad and listened to Maria Callas arias and felt pretty okay if not amazing about everything.

This is what I would buy if I had kept that $100. I want this bag a lot. So much. 

Oh look, the new music video by Stereo Total, directed by the adorable space alien / boy genius NOISY PIG:

I think that the party that Bernardo aka Noisy Pig used to throw in Berlin, POOPSY CLUB, was maybe the best party I've ever been to. But I only went once. But I had such a good time!

The good old days direct the music videos for the bright futures. This is so cool. I'm in a good mood.

My knee still feels weird, but I am going to try to go to the gym again soon and be gentle. Everybody wish my body luck.


What Could Be Better

I sometimes feel like there's no point in catching up. Or, like it's an impossible goal. So it's been weeks since I've blogged. I'm sure tons of important or interesting things have happened, potentially worth mentioning (or not). I've been sipping the last bits of summer from August. Having too much fun. Sleeping some.

I've been really into living "in the moment" lately. It's so hokey, but a week ago, on Sunday night, when I was on my way to this fantastic reading at the Monster, presented by Spunk Arts Magazine. I was really excited for it, and had the afternoon to myself. I was walking around Brooklyn, and then later the Village, and the weather was nice, and I had cigarettes, and I was wearing my new shoes, and drinking this black-cherry seltzer and had a really conscious thought, for one second, of how great everything was. Like, really clearly: "What could be better than this?" The thought only lasted for a nanosecond, but it really struck me. What if I felt like that all the time? What is we were living in the best of all possible worlds? We might be. We may as well be. But then does that mean that we shouldn't strive to make the world a better place? Not necessarily. I think you can live in the moment and appreciate life, and still work and fight to make the world a more loving and just place. Hey, maybe living in the moment is a way to begin doing that, eh?

So, now, two Sundays ago I did this fantastic reading of some of Roy Garrett's poems, over some lovely music by Rich King and Michael T. I remember when I first moved to New York, my absolute favorite party was the Rated X Panty Party, then at Opaline, DJed by Michael T and Theo from the Lunachicks. It really made such a big impression on me, and I was really excited to get to be at the same event as Mx T. Such a fun night! I was really into reading over music, kind of working out some of my Laurie Anderson/Wordcore issues. should that be where I go? Where my late 20s take me? A trip-hop spoken-word artist? Would you follow me there? Regardless, a rad night, beautifully organized by sweetheart Aaron from Spunk.

The last week's been sort of uneventful. Or, just not stressful. I went to the dentist and there was nothing wrong, nothing to be fixed. I'm so relieved. I finished reading Sheila Heti's brilliant How Should A Person Be?, which blew my mind probably more than I would have guessed. I actually have a lot I want to say about this brilliant book but I can't right now. I need to do some more thinking about it. It's amazing, though, and basically I would recommend that anyone I know go out and read it. But then it's like... maybe I only know people who would "get" that book. Is that a problem, really? It's a brilliant book, you should definitely go read it right now. I did a recording project with Max B. for his upcoming podcast, which is going to be plainly hilarious. We were talking though, about how sometimes people seem to express nostalgia for another way of life, a bygone era. I'm thinking of Steampunk and Seapunk and all manner of nostalgia, romance which feels itself to be rooted in a time and place. Like, oh, you would, really, like to go back to life before World War I? Really? Max made this casual reference though, I forget to what, to someone who said they wished they lived in the past, and he said something to the effect of how much better things are now, with, like, penicillin. How right now is the best possible time to be alive. I thought: "Oh. Right." And of course that's right. Really: what could be better? What could be better than right now? A more equitable, free, peaceful world, sure. A world that humankind hadn't fundamentally polluted, sure. But those things are not the here and now, and right now is a great place to start. This is the best time to start. This is the best time to be alive, and "Death", as Actually and Murphy would sing so beautifully on Saturday (get to that in a second), "is never late."

Had so much fun over the weekend, punctuated by periods of epick, extreme down-time. Friday I met up with PLD and Kyle and we went to the Boiler Room. I hadn't been there in a long time, but it's actually really fun, and full of a really eclectic mix of people from all walks of queer life, all united in the name of cheap drinks. It feels like San Francisco to me. Disgusting, but that's how we like it. Laid back. I also heard that they have a policy where they won't play Lady G**a songs on the jukebox there. Like, the songs are on the jukebox, but it's just understood that if you put your money in the jukebox and request a song of hers, that they'll turn it off. Isn't that cool? Like: Boiler Room, where everyone is having fun, and everyone's welcome, and it's all laid-back, San Francisco and disgusting-but-who-cares?, has one rule. And that's the rule. I like that. At the bar, people were playing lots of songs off Goxxip's new album. It's so strange to me to be in a gay bar, as a grown-up, in 2012, in New York, listening to the Gossip. I never imagined my life would be like this. Everything is so much better than anyone could imagine. In the mens room, I heard a guy in the bathroom stall sniffing coke, and singing along to the song "Men In Love" ("Naa-naa-naa-naa! Men In Loooooove!"). Just great. Just wonderful.

Saturday I had a meeting to discuss the art residency I'm going to be starting... next week. I'm so excited and also terrified, of doing a new big show, and doing it so slowly. Over the course of a year! For anyone that knows me even the smallest bit, I'm criminally distracted, so trying to maintain focus on something (anything) for this many months is going to move me way outside of my comfort zone. But that's good!

I have so many projects I want to work on. Music, writing. But mostly I want to make this new performance art show. I can't wait. Even if I really struggle and am spending my first rehearsals hysterically crying alone in the dance studio-- that's great. I want to do that. Let me cry there. Take it apart, right?

After the meeting, I walked over the Williamsburg bridge to see Actually perform at 121 Gallery, along with Ssion and House of Ladosha. It was an early show, it was a free show, it was a small show, meaning that not too many people came. I actually had really just the best time. I went by myself but I knew a bunch of people there, and there was a ton of white wine, and of course Actually makes good on the promise of Stevie Nicks (forgive the pedantic reference but) and Ssion is clearly a genius, duh, and House of Ladosha is maybe my favorite band in NYC. It felt so nice to get to go to a show in an art gallery. I haven't seen a music show in one in a while. Also so nice to get to see these three acts in a relatively small crowd! How lucky. Thee gorgeous Murphy Maxwell was in town, having recently she-located to Los Angeles, like so many dear departed hearts, and has fallen totally in love with it, like you do. I was glad to see sweetheart Murphy, and to hear him SING. He's SUCH a good singer! It's totally criminal! Why isn't he a big huge star? The world is so unfair. Let's change it. Power-walked/drunk-walked with Lady Miss Colin Self and took the L train home, catching up.

I picked up my new neighbor Sam, and we went to this BUFFET party, DJ'ed by Benjamin Ha'Bear and Shomi Noise and Pozsi Kolor and Brian Belukha and it was near our neighborhood at the House of Yes. It was so. Much. Fun. I can't remember the last time I danced so hard. I was literally disgusting, people were disgusted by me because I was sweating so much. I thought I might pass out. A couple people did ask me if I was okay. It was gross and great. Such good music! There was this amazing mash-up of Khia's "My Neck, My Back" and "Call Me Maybe" that was kind of absolutely blowing my mind. And FREE FOOD. Candy on every table. Nath-Ann showed up, having just come from a witchy queer wedding ceremony, bringing with her the blessèd wedding feast leftovers. Have you ever tried to flirt with this cute boy you know while dancing to that Grimes song you don't like but have to pretend to like, while eating cold falafel and sweating buckets? I have. It was great, you should try it.

I actually danced so hard that I fucked up my leg really bad. It had sort of hurt before I picked Sam up, and probably going out dancing was a less-than-fantastic idea, but I had fun, sipping whiskey and dancing my ass off. I didn't notice. I went home, dehydrated, and fell asleep. I had a very bad dream, in which my leg hurt and I didn't know why. My right knee was mysteriously broken or pulled out of socket or something. In the dream, I was telling someone that my knee hurt and I didn't know why, and in the dream the person I was talking to said "Well see? Right there." and I looked at my knee and there a huge purple bruise. How hadn't I noticed that? "Okay," I thought, in the dream, "at least that explains why it hurts! Thank goodness it's not a mystery."

I woke up to pretty severe pain, and I couldn't put any weight on my right leg. There was no bruise. I sat on my floor and did some stretches and kind of hobbled around for a bit. Eventually it did start to feel better, throughout the day. Could I have pulled a muscle in my sleep? I've actually sustained some pretty gnarly injuries that way. I feel a million times better today, but still vaguely sore. So I'm taking tonight off from the gym, which is actually a pretty big thing for me, and I'm going to see this Ai WeiWei documentary with Tommy.

Not Supremes. Don't you think this would make a good t-shirt? I do. 

I spent most of Sunday running around Park Slope. Or, I should say, walking very slowly, with a limp. I got off the B63 bus much sooner than I needed to, to go to the Key Foods in Park Slope. Theirs is so much nicer than the one near me. Theirs is having a big party to celebrate their 75th anniversary-- I bet the one near me isn't. The Key Foods in Park Slope, however, stocks their generic name-brand peanut butter, in the glass jars, which I like to use as drinking glasses. I thought I'd never find one again! But I did.

Here's this all-girl Swedish metal band I used to like so much when I was in middle school:


Cook My Dinner While I Shine My Gun

Speaking of the new Cat Power record, which does yes sound like a mid-1990s trip-hop/"electronica" record, which I love, buddy Ryan made the comparison between it and the sound of Imani Coppola's first record, Chupacabra.

I don't know if Miss Thing meant it as a dig or not, but that record is fucking rad. I mean, remember how good this song was?

Or the other single from that record, "I'm A Tree"

Like, fuck Guided By Voices, right? Who is actually a tree, even? I think this is so cute. I spent pretty much the whole weekend listening to Imani Coppola's first record. It was not a mistake.

Remember when it was cool to play the violin? Remember when people played instruments at all? Remember when people wanted to play for each other?

On Sunday I got a new mattress and a new glass piece and a new battery for my air conditioner's remote control. Kind of a banner day.

I also made a video about responsibility.

Also also I've been (sort of) working on a music project/projects, and I finally made a song out of this old beat which was made, of course, by homegirl Matt Elkin when we were in the band BALLERINAS in college. I recorded a demo of some Laura Nyro songs ("Captain for Dark Mornings" + "Captain St. Lucifer")

It's just a demo. I need to record it a little bit better-sung. My favorite Laura Nyro lyric in that song is: "I'VE BEEN SOLD BY SAILORS/I'VE BEEN WORN BY TAILORS/SOLDIERS WOUND ME/BUT YOU, MY CAPTAIN, ARE MEDICATION/FOR MY REPUTATION"

Little Bits

Some important things to know! A few weeks ago I did a reading of legendary NYC underdog /porn star / performance artist poet Roy Garrett's work, alongside a slew of luminaries, at at event organized by SPUNK Arts Magazine and hosted by Dirty Looks. I'm very excited to get to do another performance in this vein, this SUNDAY in NYC.


Sunday, August 19th, 2012
6 pm – 12 midnight [no cover before 7 pm, $5 after 7 pm]
@ The Monster [80 Grove Street, NYC]
Disco Porno Poetry performance by MAX STEELE [from poems by ROY GARRETT]
+ Go Go Boys +
Spunk issue no.8 (limited edition of 400) will be available for purchase ($9).

(think Miss Karen Finley, spoken-word/nightclub effects)

Also, I wrote a review of the new Cat Power album, Sun, which is up on Noisey. The new record is so great! Take my word for it.

All right.


More though

You guys. It's so great to be. I mean, even during painful moments. Even when things are Actually Shitty. That's so much better than the alternative. I think there's this huge fear of discomfort, this fear of suffering. But, you know, that's part of suffering. Fear is uncomfortable. It's like: hypochondria is a disease, too. I feel really glad to be alive, even if it hurts sometimes.

Happy Birthday to me! I woke up on the 7th and, I know it's kind of shallow, but took real pleasure in all the birthday wishes I got from people on the internet. So many friends I hadn't been in touch with lately, people who live far away or whom I've fallen out of contact with. It was so nice! I did go to work, and it wasn't bad at all. In fact my co-workers threw me and another office-mate (whose birthday is right after mine) a surprise birthday party. It was so much fun.

My mom sent me a copy of this book, because I had been talking about it when I was at home last week:

It's so great, obviously. I'm totally obsessed.

I came home, took a little bit more of a nap than I meant to, had a very good Birthday Workout, ate a sandwich and a 5-Hour Energy, and got ready. My Birthday Twin Jess Paps and I had a joint soiree at a charming little bistro in our neighborhood, Bushwick Country Club. Again, so many awesome friends came out, including dear close loves like Isabelle, who I haven't seen in ages. It was so awesome. I let pretty much everybody who offered buy me drinks, including people who didn't offer, and just brought me drinks without being prompted to. I am a generous host.

Eventually I did mosey on home. I had yesterday off work to celebrate my birthday, really. I woke up early and meditated and drank coffee over ice and then went up to my favorite neighborhood, the Upper East Side. I went to Barney's and I didn't buy anything (but I wanted to). I want to get a nice new sweater. Of some kind or another. Just looking, yesterday, though. Then I went over to Zabar's for lunch, because I'm really obsessed with their gazpacho. The girls behind the counter were talking shit about Lil' Mama, crashing the stage at the 2009 VMAs. Which, I guess I had never seen before.

Haven't you ever wanted to just jump onstage while someone else was performing? Haven't you ever wanted to participate really badly, and then realize, only in hindsight, that you were totally overdoing it and that it was totally inappropriate? Haven't you ever been too enthusiastic? For some reason I really identify with Lil Mama.

The girls at Zabar's said she was a "homewrecker".

After lunch and I went shopping Zabar's proper, for rugelach, good-ass coffee, dried pears, dried cantaloupe, and my favorite tea:

Then I moseyed in the heat down to CdG to buy some new cologne:

It kind of smells like pickle-juice? In a weird way? It smells very 1990s. It's perfect and I am very happy. Doubly, extra-specially so because when I was buying the CDG3 I asked the shopmaidens about the old Synthetic series, which is discontinued, but which I am totally obsessed with, and they gave me a tester of the SODA fragrance, since they didn't have any more, and no one seems to like it. Except me. I love it! SODA smells like weird sexy citrus dish soap. I am in heaven.

After the shopping trip, I walked downtown and got a kombucha. Kind of a dumb idea for a sweltering day but I thought it would bolster my system and give me energy and it did. But it was also foamy and sour and left me with sticky hands.

But that's okay! Because I went to my favorite nail place for a manicure, where they dug the last precious drops of polish out of my favorite summertime shade.

I was going to get a massage too, but I chickened out because I was too tired and sweaty, and besides, at the nail salon they sort of give you a half-assed massage anyway, while waiting for your nails to dry. I waited so long.

I came home and ordered takeout, picked up my laundry, and watched Tenchi Muyo! for, like, the umpteenth time. It never loses its charm. I wish alien princesses would battle with demons for me. Tenchi's such a dick, it's so bizarre that everyone's so obsessed with him. But I know it's more about his legacy and not about his own puny ass.

Thinking a little bit about these jars we have at my apartment, which I use as drinking glasses. They're these sort of cute, clunky glass jars which Key Foods used to package their generic natural peanut butter in. It was great, it was only peanuts and salt, and it was like $2, and then you get this cool jar which makes a perfect 12 ounce drinking glass. I collected dozens of these jars and used them as drinking glasses for years. None of my room mates liked them, I think they seemed a little funky or something. I adore them. But then Key Foods stopped making that peanut butter, and therefore no more jars. I'm sad whenever one of them breaks (which does, of course, happen). But you know, things change. Your favorite things sometimes go away. Actually, your favorite things reliably go away. That is certain. Like the SYNTHETIC colognes by CdG. Gbye. But it's okay because you get to enjoy them when you have them.

This morning I woke up at 5:30am, before the Sun was up, to go to the gym. I feel good.


Wish List

Things I Want For My Birthday

Mercury and Venus are both about to turn direct and not, really, a moment too soon.
Friday night I met up with Daniel and Tommy and we went out for iced cream in Williamsburg. We took the L train the F train to go to Prospect Park to see Wild Flag perform. On the F train in the Lower East Side, however, the train stopped because someone jumped in front of it. We got off the train.

Dazed, we wandered around the lower east side for a little while. I was trying to avoid the gathering ambulances and cop cars. We ducked into a pizza shop and had pizza, which was good, actually, but the girl who worked there, everyone who worked there, was so friendly and approachable and upbeat ("How's that pizza? Any suggestions? No? Be honest...") it made it hard to eat. Eventually we took a car to Prospect Park and we saw Wild Flag perform. The set was just okay. I was wearing this mesh t-shirt, and the people at the drink stand at the bandshell liked my shirt and gave me a free glass of wine (even though I had just bought one). We ran into our friends Ana Cohen and Ben Ha'Bear. After the show we hung around the entrance to the park and tried to decide what to do. Eventually Ana C. left and we all went to the Metropolitan for one drink. I got bored and exhausted and left soon afterward.

Saturday I avoided the sunlight. I had had vague plans to go to the beach but I chickened out. I exercised, meditated, recorded music for a few hours (reggaton cover of Laura Nyro songs) and wrote a record review. At night, I went out to dinner then to the ReggAy party at Public Assembly. Everybody was there! It was such a good dance party! I saw so many dear and near faces. I hung out all night and danced my little ass off and then at 3:30 in the morning had to go home.

Sunday Jiddy No-No came over and we caught up, before heading into the city, where I was participating in a new Ves Pitts / Joe Jeffreys video project. Mine came out just okay (I think). I came home and actually did basically nothing since then.

Tomorrow is my birthday.


To Enjoy It

Last night my best friend in the whole world Danielle Rosa aka BOBO came over, in-between her cross-country jaunts this summer. I miss her so much, and was bummed that while she was visiting the city last week I was in San Francisco. So, happily, our schedules overlapped by one day and she came over last night. I am so happy. I also got PAID by some long-outstanding folks, so I'm really feeling the magick and the pain of Mercury Retrograde. ("It takes courage to enjoy it. The hardcore and the gentle.")

Bobo and I caught up, listened to music, ordered our favorite sandwiches (Showtime, no tomatoes, from Hana) and went out for iced cream. She spent the night and we watched this really rad documentary about A Tribe Called Quest in bed. She dozed off but I did watch the whole thing. I love this song so much:

Cute, sweet.

I woke up this morning to the beautiful goddess vision that is Bobo:

So happy. My summer is made. Happy Birthday to Me.

But seriously: next Tuesday is my birthday, I will be celebrating with my birthday twin Jessica Paps, since we both have the same birthday of August 7th, which our other Birthday Twin Kristin Hersh informed me last year was the BIRTHDAY OF SECRETS. So we're going to celebrate together next Tuesday Night in Williamsburg. Do you want to come? Let me know and I will send you the invitation. But I mean, speaking of my birthday there's a bunch of stuff I want and I will post all of it soon. I do like wish lists.

Okay I'm happy today.