True Too

Been thinking, for the new show, about the difference between "Failure" as a practice, a kind of trendy concept and disappointment. I don't fault failure, but I was talking to someone about the new thing I'm making, about being (intentionally) bad music, that I am a bad singer, and they responded that I'm not horrible. It was as if to say that, if I'm trying to be horrible, I should actually push it further into being really awful. I realized though that right now what feels more accurate and more beautiful and more interesting to me, what I'm more curious about is when failure is not an epic catastrophe. I'm not interested in the rupture, the utopia, the explosion of failure, surrender, catharsis. What feels truer is the running list of all the minute, half-conscious acts, the hunches, bad habits, the tiny ways we betray ourselves every day. In terms of singing, I'm less interested in being spectacularly awful and I'm much more interested in being almost, but definitely not quite enough. To be within sight of the goal, to feel that the thing you want to be possible, and to simply not measure up. That's the kind of feeling I want to convey, in my singing. Cuz that's actually where most of us live, right? Most of the time. But you know, I still like big productions too. I was gonna say "I like drama" but I don't know if I do.

I've been suppressing the drama of my life. I've been holding it back and losing interest in discovering it.
FOR EXAMPLE: sometimes you think someone is your enemy, and they're not. That freaks a girl out, because surely the inverse must also be true, right? That sometimes you think someone is your friend, and they turn out to be your enemy. I guess. ANOTHER EXAMPLE of the endless hidden drama: my shrink was talking to me about love. I was talking, mostly. I said that I don’t think people can know each other for a long time and then suddenly fall in love. I said I think you know with someone, right away or pretty much right away. I think that can happen, sure, but it’s probably very rare, statistically impossible. Homeopathic.  And my shrink said it’s probably less rare than I think. Which was interesting, and then again of course the inverse is true too right. All versions, permutations of the True Thing are also True Too.

I want to go to a bamboo forest.


It's like if I don't hear someone complain about their job, or if I don't hear someone (in the course of getting to know them) complain about the constant hustle, the struggle, about constantly being broke then I just assume that they're a trust-fund kid. That their parents or their boyfriend or their girlfriend or their whatever-- that someone else is picking up the tab.

Even people who do complain. Sometimes trust fund kids complain so that you won't suspect them of secretly being rich. Of secretly being able to afford the soda they ask you for a dollar to help pay for.

It's like anal douching. Unless you talk about it we have to assume it's not happening, it's not a thing. But then of course some people talk about it instead of knowing about it. I was in a group of gay guys last year, at a party, I kind of got caught in this weird sort of bro-y conversation about douching; "Did you douche, first, dude?" "Naw man, it wasn't like a thing." "Dude, no way." "No I mean I didn't know, I didn't have time." It was so weird. But of course just weird because I'm not used to this kind of conversation.

It's like Courtney Love. You have to act like you're a huge fan but then if you meet her in New York you have to act like she's just another charming older lady with nice clothes and a bar tab. It's ironic. The entire point of Courtney Love is that you don't have to be put together, that it's okay to be fucked up. The band was called HOLE it's okay to have a hole, right?

Been so obsessed with Nic Endo's album Cold Metal Perfection recently. It's like, techno, sort of? But it's also free jazz? And ambient? And digital hardcore? It's really subtle and calm and stylish. I love Nic Endo. I remember reading interviews with her where she talked about how it was just easier to wear black all the time because then she could just wear it regardless of where she was, Berlin, London, New York, wherever. How convenient!

Speaking of black, the BLACK COMME des GARÇONS S/S 2014 collection is arriving and some wonderful soul put the lookbook online:

Obviously I'm totally obsessed. I want everything. I really want one of those long coats. Either a full-length moto jacket or a full-length bomber jacket. I don't know if they're warm though. What I do actually need is to replace my drop crotch pants, but I want to wear the pair I have until they literally, actually fall apart. I want all of this. I'm gonna stop by after work before Analysis to cruise it and then go to some galleries. I want to see the new Collier Schorr exhibit, and then some other stuff too I guess.


Total Ellipse

I'm really excited to be in this show this Saturday night, you guys. There are two performances on Saturday, at 7 and 9:30, so hopefully anyone who wants to come can come. I'm really so thrilled to be included in this. I only hope I can live up to it.

You Like Me: An Evening of Classic Acceptance Speeches

Saturday, March 1 at 7:00PM & 9:30PM
Ars Nova Theater
511 West 54th Street
New York, NY 10019

Created by Rachel Shukert & Michael Schulman
Directed by Peter James Cook
Music Direction by Brad Garder
Featuring: Mike Albo, Justin Vivian Bond, Eliot Glazer, Roslyn Hart, Perez Hilton, Jackie Hoffman, Erin Markey, Michael Musto, The O’Debra Twins, Molly Pope, Mo Rocca, Max Steele, Michael Urie & Varsity Interpretive Dance Squad.

Spend Oscar Eve with some of downtown’s funniest performers as they reinterpret classic speeches from award-show history, from Meryl Streep to Angelina Jolie. No celebrity is safe in this merciless send-up of self-congratulation!

Tickets Here

A sort of fun blur, this 'everything running together' feeling. I feel like I'm always late for everything, but I know that can't be true. Everyday I'm hustling, it feels like. Everyday I'm hustling and it is also, each and every day, a winding road.

Nice color palette resonance there, eh?

This past weekend was pretty great. On Thursday night I met my friend at Mattachine at Julius' Bar. It was so much fun, like it always is. I saw so many familiar near and dear faces, I had three measly cocktails on an empty stomach and I feel like I was hungover all weekend after that, just chasing down enough booze to make the headache dissipate. That sounds worse than it really was, actually.

Friday I had that reading at the Bureau of General Services Queer Division to celebrate the release of FUTURE PERFECT.

The reading was really wonderful. I read along with Andrew Durbin (who edited Future Perfect), Justin Allen, Pamela Sneed and Juliana Huxtable. Everyone was fucking amazing. It reminded me how much I like doing readings. Pamela Sneed, especially, was really inspiring. So many nice people came, including Walter Cessna, who I love very much and haven't seen in a long time. It was a really nice night. I had some white wine and birthday cake, because it was Donnie from the Bureau's birthday. It was a pretty perfect Friday night.

Listen, this book is really special and features so many amazing writers including: Penny Arcade, Felix Bernstein, Stephen Boyer, Lonely Christopher, Nicole Eisenman, BDGRMMR, Bruce Hainley, Ed Halter, Juliana Huxtable, Ted Kerr, Kevin Killian, Wayne Koestenbaum, Rachel Levitsky, Trisha Low, Stephen Motika, Eileen Myles, Trace Peterson, Luther Price, Paul Mpagi Sepuya, Pamela Sneed, Max Steele, and Laurie Weeks). As of right now, it's only available in real life at the Bureau in the LES (83 Hester St.) but I'm told it will soon be available online.

Saturday I had a meeting with the other BAX Artists in Residence, to discuss our recent Works in Progress showings. I feel so recharged and excited every time we meet. I'm a little scared and a lot excited to be making this new show at BAX, MAPPLETHORPE.

As a reminder, I'll be performing this new show, which is a kind of cabaret or nightclub act, at Brooklyn Arts Exchange on May 2nd, 3rd and 4th. You definitely have to come. You can see the interview I did about the project with Helix Queer Performance Network here.

Okay so after the artists meeting, I hustled on up to Printed Matter, for the launch party of Queer Zines 2.

It's edited by Philip Aarons and AA Bronson and is a follow up to the previous collection from a few years ago. I remember when that came out, and thinking sort of wistfully that I hope some day I make something that could be in a book like that. So it was with total surprise and utter glee that I was contacted this past summer about Scorcher being included in the collection. I'm really, really, really really happy to be part of Queer Zines 2. I bought a copy at the launch event (not entirely up to me but happy to do it). All I ever want, really, is just to be part of the conversation. It's so fucked up. I was talking about this with my shrink last week-- I don't want to be famous. I don't want to be powerful. I think those things are like narcotic addictions, they never satisfy and you can spend your life chasing after them. I don't want to be the best. I don't want to be an iconoclast or an inspiration, I don't want to be a conscience, I don't want to be a scapegoat or a doormat or a disposable friend. I just want to be part of the conversation. I just want to be included. It's hard to overstate how much it means to me, really, to have my little Scorcher included in the book of so many other really amazing zines. It's so strange and exciting and really weirdly emotional for me to have my work taken even a little bit seriously. Even just being seen as worth describing, it means a lot. SO: this is all to say that you should buy this new Queer Zines book.

And also to say that I am really putting out a new Scorcher very soon.

I met up with my good old pal Steven at the launch event, then we went for a drink down the street. So much fun to have known someone for so long. We met through a Missed Connection (seriously). It's so nice to be grown up and to know people and to get to see them become the things they become. it's nice to be part of that conversation too, I guess. I think showing up is the whole thing.

Then I high tailed it to Brooklyn to see Nadia Tykulser/Spark(Edit)'s show at Triskellion on a bill with Katie Dean. I had seen an early version of Nadia's piece in rehearsal a few months ago and was really excited by it, and I was totally stoked on the performance I saw on Saturday. I'm not sure if I can do it justice, really. The piece is, to my mind, a lot about social structures; how we understand one another and ourselves, how we understand the dynamics of place and isolation. But it's also about three alien space creatures who's revelation and articulation is the content of the show. As they reveal themselves to us, emerging from their "nest"-like space, they literally figure each other out and so we figure them out too. In terms of dancey-dance, the piece was subtly enervating. I sometimes felt like I lost track of the flow of a dance, only to have it kind of snapped back in my face. I was so happy to see this performance. It was the perfect end to a very sweet day.

On my way home I got Hana Food like I always do, and crashed early. Jiddy No-No was visiting Paps in the apartment downstairs so I got to visit with her for a second.

Sunday I woke up early to go to the gym and listen to Evelyn Champagne King. I came home, cleaned the house a little, went to the studio for what felt like an excruciating and unproductive practice session (oy!), then went back home to get my head right. I got dressed up then went over to the Rusty Knot for Scissor Sundays, the dance party JD Samson throws. This week the special guest DJ was Johanna Fateman. I forget how much fun that party is! It starts at 4pm and some of those folks definitely avail themselves of the 4pm open bar. By the time I rolled through around 8, the place was rocking. I got to see deer heart babygirl angel Colin Self, who is now bartending at the party as well. He gave me a special shot called a Cuntry Lass. It was so good!

I could only stay for one quick drink though (a shot is a quick drink) before heading on to Joe's Pub to see miss Erin Markey's FANTASTIC show on Sunday night. I've been to almost all of her Joe's Pub solo shows this year, and I never get tired of seeing her. She did a couple songs from the project she's making in her residency at BAX, and those were highlights as well. She introduced one number by joking "Okay, who's ready for another intense one?" And something sort of clicked for me. I'm totally biased, okay? I'm lucky enough to count Erin as a friend, but I'm also a die-hard fan of her work. Something about her cavalier reference to intensity clarified something for me. Erin's work (her songs, performances, and of course the writing that makes all this possible) is about, in a way, intensity. Not about being hilarious and gleeful and hysterical, but about how we measure, locate, and experience intensity of emotion. Her work is about how we grapple with understanding other people, and the awful, terrifying, but exhilarating experience of coming to understand something about yourself. The experience of her work is when someone asks you a question, like what do you want to be when you grow up, who do you have a crush on, what's your biggest fear, some kind of open-ended question, and you just say what first pops into your head. And as soon as you say it, you realize it's totally true. That wide-eyed excitement of things suddenly making awful and immaculate sense; that's the experience of Erin's work. Sunday night was a revelation, a masterclass in performance. I mean it. I am so proud of her. I slept deeply and dreamed of road trips. I was transported.

And then finally, last night was really the end of my epick weekend when I got to go see my homegirl and soul sister Tommy Pico read his work at the Poetry Project, on a bill with Christopher Schmidt. It is both a big deal, and perfectly appropriate that Tommy read at the Poetry Project. I was absolutely blown away by his reading, and by his new poems, which are going to be released in a poetry app he's finishing up called Absent Mindr. I've had the supreme honor and pleasure of getting to see Tommy's work develop over the years, and it's like having a favorite sports team or movie star or someone who is separate from you but who's work you are deeply invested in. I'm rooting for Teebs and I'm rewarded with his excellent efforts. His new work is both leaner, quicker, easier to laugh with, and also much more poignant, sharper, deeper, more resonant. He's building an emotional vocabulary that keeps revising itself; keeps adjusting, evolving, renegotiating. One of his poems talks about inheriting a sense of direction, and this is a hallmark of Tommy's work. The occasional vocal fry or meandering listicle are red herrings. Tommy Pico plays with play, he jokes about humor and pretends to effect a kind of searching. If he says he's lost he's lying, to make a point. The utter joy in Tommy's work is when he reveals that he did, in fact, know, all along, exactly where to go next. It was the highlight, the cherry on top of such a great weekend.

I came home and ordered take-out and watched "Unsung" like I always do when I don't know what else to watch, and I went to bed feeling so lucky to have such inspiring friends. I tried to get up this morning at 5am to go to the gym but I flaked. I did crunches and push-ups this morning, a feeble compromise. But there are more mornings coming up, there's never a lack of opportunities for being ambitious.


I Feel I'm Right On Time

Forgot to mention that I had the pleasure to get to interview CIBO MATTO FOR VICE. Please check it out. It was amazing; I've been a fan for many years and totally love the new album. It was kind of surreal, a dream come true, definitely.

Right now I'm waiting for Paps because we have a date to go to the gym together. Boy, it's so funny that I'm so excited to go to the gym. Busting at the seams, I'd say. To kill time, I'm watching Scott Panther's videos, his pics. Catching up on his updates.
BILLY: Mirror, mirror, on the wall. Tell me Scott Panther is sad and lonely and worried, just like me.
COMPUTER: I can't tell you that, Master.
BILLY: Repeat error report, Mirror, I don't understand.
COMPUTER: Scott Panther is not sad, Master, nor lonely, nor worried. 
The computer is right. Scott Panther is having a fantastic life, he's very successful. Wouldn't anybody be, after so many years. He's very much in love with a nice-seeming person. Good for everybody. They all have big apartments and small dogs, and ambition.
BILLY: Mirror mirror on the wall, please show me someone I used to know who now I'm doing better than they are.
COMPUTER: I shall load the obituary file, Master.
BILLY: Oh my god whatever. Fine. I get it. Nevermind.
COMPUTER: You're not actually doing so bad either, Master. 
I wonder if this is a thing where certain things will always feel the same, how we'll always use the same things, forever, even though they're old and don't mean anything anymore. Like, what does it matter what Scott Panther does with his free time, right, we don't actually know each other and haven't in a very long time. It's more about what it represents to me, in my head. It's funny though, it's like the music that came out when you were younger, you get sort of stuck. Don't you? Or the music you liked, at the point in your life when you liked music. That matters. That's a much better way of saying it.

Like, Mono.

This album, I think, really holds up. It's the type of thing that I would like to make. A big commercial success for like a minute, but real arty and smart and sincere and of it's time. In an Yvonne Rainer way, of its time. Or that Grace Jones lyric: "Right on time I feel I'm right on time."

Even if it's a time in the past tense.


I wish it were easier to say about the Women

I suppose it's just that time of year when people are starting to want to leave New York. For LA, for Europe, for other cities, or else beaches, the woods, wherever. It's true, this winter has been particularly hard. And yes, Winter will in general get more and more extreme and more and more difficult. But no one ever promised you life would get easier as you went along, right? I think of what my buddy Caroline said during a reading I saw her do a few weeks ago: "Dying is literally the most normal thing you can do." Anyway, I don't want to leave New York, at least not yet, uncomfortable though I may be. I don't want to leave because there's too much great stuff going on. What a fantastic weekend I just had.

On Friday at Saturday nights, I got to host Isaac Richard Pool and Chris Udemezue at BAX, for a weekend of performances I curated called NEWS CYCLE. I am so happy with how it went! Even though I wasn't performing, I was really nervous about the weekend, and the artists totally brought it. I think the weather affected the turnout a little on Saturday night, but other than that I think the weekend was a total success. I am so happy and flattered that these folks agreed to be part of this thing I was trying to put together, and that they made such fantastic work. Really inspiring for me, and, I hope, for the other people who got to see the shows this weekend. My heart swells.

Sunday night I had the sincere honor of being invited to see a screening of the new Elaine Stritch documentary, Shoot Me. I ran into Dan Fishback and Michael Schulman and Molly Pope there, it was great. The film is just fantastic. I say this as someone who is not well-versed in the Broadway canon, someone who is not already a huge Stritch devotee. Someone who does not necessarily think Sondheim is the most important American artist of his age. I mean, he might be, but I don't really know. Anyway, the documentary is so great. Elaine Stritch is an icon and deservedly so. I wish I had an ounce of her self-possession. The thing that keeps coming up in the documentary (SPOILER ALERT) is that her strength is derived from not holding back, from making herself vulnerable. Her legendary power comes from being real, being honest, being scared but going ahead with things. It was a real joy to see, and very funny. There was also a talk-back hosted by Perez Hilton. Molly asked Ms. Stritch at what point in her career did she realize she could handle anything. Elaine had a lovely but sort of meandering answer about wisdom and the gifts of time, I didn't really follow it but it was lovely to finally get to see Molly and Stritch have a convo in public. Then Michael asked if there was a story about Stritch's aversion to pants. At many points in the documentary people allude to her signature outfit (an oversized white button down worn with black tights). Perez even introduced Stritch in the after-screening talk by saying "She's here, and she's not wearing pants..." So I kind of thought we were all on the same page about how Elaine Stritch doesn't wear pants. Evidently this was not the case, as when Michael asked if there was a story about her aversion to pants, she definitely went off on him, saying how offended she was by the question, how (again a little hard to follow) that kind of thing should go where it belongs, right down into the gutter. A nice lady who had been sitting next to us at the screening said maybe it was a vocabulary thing; if he had asked about slacks she might have answered better-- maybe she thought "pants" meant underwear. The nice lady who suggested this had a point. She was also sitting next to me and was sleeping and snoring during a lot of the movie, but she had a nice big fur coat to sleep underneath, so I don't blame her, and was even kind of jealous.

That was another takeaway from the Stritch documentary, for me: get a fur coat. I want a fur coat! It felt a little fucked up to drink booze after the movie, considering Stritch's much-storied struggles with alcohol. But free booze is free booze and I definitely availed myself of as much white wine as I could guzzle before the hotel staff sort of began shooing us out.

Monday was a Holiday, so I went to the gym and then spent the day cleaning the house. I was on Living room/hallway and Bathroom duty. I also cleaned my room a bit. It was disgusting but totally worth it. I want to buy new slippers. Am I am old person, because I want slippers? It's okay to get older. We're all getting older, as Elaine Stritch says. So I cleaned my apartment, and then I went to see Tina Satter and Half-Straddle read from the newly published book of some of Satter's plays, Seagull (thinking of You). I have a confession: I've never actually been to a performance of one of Satter's plays. I've seen videos, and I've read a lot about them, but I've never been. So many people I love and admire are involved in the production of her work, it's kind of deeply shameful that I haven't been to the shows.

Anyway, I went last night and I was so inspired by the talk! And the readings! Eileen Myles was "in conversation" with Tina, but it was mostly her speaking about her process, about what she is trying to convey, how she tries to convey a feeling, say, of being an adolescent and wearing one earring to the mall and feeling cool. I wish I could more articulately convey how reassuring it is, how exciting it is to be in the same city as Tina Satter.

I wish I could handily explain how exciting it is to be on the same planet as these brilliant women who seem to just get on with the business of telling the truth through their art. I wish I could just say, real easily, "Oh yeah, and then she said this crazy thing that we were all thinking, it was so wonderful." It's not so easy. SO: go see the Stritch documentary and go buy Tina Satter's book and then sit next to me the next time they have a Half-Straddle performance in NYC.

So that was this weekend. Then I came home and ordered takeout and watched the first half of All About Eve, but then I got bored and started watching this Spice Girls documentary but then I fell asleep. That was this weekend.

BUT NEXT WEEKEND there are some really exciting things. One of which involves me directly.

FRIDAY 2/21/14 7pm FREE
Bureau of General Services Queer Division
83A Hester St. NYC

This will be a reading to celebrate the launch of FUTURE PERFECT, the benefit book for the Bureau. I'll be reading my contribution to the book, which is a brand new piece that doesn't appear anywhere else. I am so over the moon at being included in this project and in the company I'm with! These are some of my favorite writers in the world, and I'm so excited. I think/hope you can buy the book at the event as well? Please come join us on Friday night.

"Join the Bureau of General Services-Queer Division in a celebration of the book we produced for our fundraiser last year: Future Perfect. Edited by Andrew Durbin and published by Publication Studio, Future Perfect includes contributions from: Penny Arcade, Felix Bernstein, Stephen Boyer, Lonely Christopher, Nicole Eisenman, Bad Grammar, Bruce Hainley, Ed Halter, Juliana Huxtable, Ted Kerr, Kevin Killian, Wayne Koestenbaum, Rachel Levitsky, Trisha Low, Stephen Motika, Eileen Myles, Tim Trace Peterson, Luther Price, Paul Mpagi Sepuya, Pamela Sneed. Max Steele, Laurie Weeks .

If you donated $50 or more to the Bureau's fundraiser and you selected Future Perfect as a perk we welcome you to claim your book at the event. Several of the contributors will be at the event, some of whom will read their contributions. Confirmed readers at this point include the book's editor Andrew Durbin, Juliana Huxtable, Pamela Sneed, and Max Steele. We'll announce additional readers soon."

Then SATURDAY 2/22 I'm going to see Nadia Tykulsker/Spark(edIt) Arts perform on a bill with Heather Bregman and Katie Dean at Triskelion Arts in Brooklyn. Spark(edit) is performing a new piece titled Sheathings from a Steep Slope, and I saw a rehearsal of an early version of the piece a few months ago. I totally loved it, it was like finding out you had cable and you never knew it; some weird alien cable from the future. HIGHLY recommended. The show runs all weekend but Saturday is the only night I can go so please join me!

February 20 – 22, 2014 at 8pm
Triskelion Arts' Aldous Theater
118 N. 11th Street, 3rd Fl., Brooklyn, NY 11249

Ok, and then on SUNDAY 2/23/14, the legendary Erin Markey returns to Joe's Pub in: There's A New Emergency Contact In Town: Erin Markey at Joe's Pub with Kenny Mellman.

I'm not gonna bullshit you: Erin Markey is the Sun. If you're reading this you already know. She's been writing these fantastic new songs with Mr. Mellman, and they're going to sing some of them, and I might cry? You definitely have to buy your ticket right the fuck away, because this show will probably sell out, because she's a huge star and everyone loves her and the show is too important and exciting to miss. So don't miss it, dummy.

And then finally, next MONDAY 2/24/14, my home-girl, soul sister, close personal friend and constant inspiration and guiding star, Tommy Pico will be reading at the Poetry Project. That's right, that's correct. Sister Pico is of course one of the most exciting voices in American poetry right now, and so it is only fitting that he be performing his work at the most respected and important institution for American poetry and I could not be more proud of him. He'll be reading work from his forthcoming e-chapbook/spoken-word app Absent Mindr. This is the thing I will see you at on Monday night, wearing my lil' cheerleader pompoms and painting 'TEEBS' on my bellyfat.

Monday February 24th, 8pm
the Poetry Project @ St. Mark's Church
131 E. 10th Street
NY, NY 10003

Tonight I'm gonna go grocery shopping, then work for a little bit in the studio at BAX (sing a little bit).



It's a blizzard, a snowstorm here in New York. I'm surprised schools were open and that I had to come in to work. But when I got here, they got donuts for us.

My friend Mel pointed out that these should be called Snow Donuts, or Snownuts. I don't even really like or eat donuts but I had a chocolate one.

I am not that into Valentine's Day, except for the candy. It is, like all Holidays, basically made up by candy and card companies. But then I found out that today, February 13th, is Break-Up Day. Now this is something I can get behind.


I always advocate breaking up, quitting, leaving, giving up. Dump your boyfriend. I mean it.




I'm not an expert or fashion critic though I might like to be, and I don't want to sound like I don't have a tremendous amount of respect for the Mulleavy sisters, because I do. They're clearly very intelligent, creative, talented, and have profoundly moving aesthetic and philosophical values, and I have definitely found their work inspiring over the years, in many ways.

So let's talk about their most recent Fall 2014 collection. It does make me a bit sad that Cathy Horyn is retiring and isn't here to drag this to hell. I think critical engagement is a form of appreciation, clearly. This is not a new look; these are looks we've seen for the last few years.

These are the looks we've loved from Marc Jacobs, from Celine, from Prada & Miu Miu. Anyone can see that-- I'm no expert, but I see that. It's not an accident. The collection is, as the sisters Mulleavy copped to, about nostalgia. About the things they love. About loving the things you love and being influenced by the things that influence you, and I'm not putting it down because if you're reading this on my personal blog then you know this is what my life is about too.

I guess my issue is that there's a certain amount of shopping, of collecting, going on in the creative imagination here. There's a certain point at which longing for and remembering start to become the same thing. And that kind of waking dream, as any Ambien using sleep-walker can tell you, is a dangerous thing. Mattilda Bernstein Sycamore talks a bit about how nostalgia is a way to almost erase the past, by replacing it with a different version of what actually happened. That's one way of thinking about it which I think is interesting. But wait, let's talk about those fucking Star Wars dresses.

This is some Urban Outfitters shit. This is literally selling your childhood memories back to you. I remember Carrie form Sleater-Kinney describing UO that way, or something like that, and she was right. This is a thing of paying exorbitant amounts of money to have an experience you already had, but better, again, this time. Obviously, Star Wars has been an enduring legacy dans le monde du mode. The first thing it makes me thing of is the CdG SHIRT collection from Fall 2012:

I mean, Kawakubo uses things in a different way. But just saying: we all like Star Wars. Maybe "like" is too strong a word; I don't really like it, but a lot of people in my life whom I love very much are obsessed, so I'm down with the Force.

I joked on Twitter that Kim Gordon is probably worried that she's going to have to wear one of the C3PO or Yoda dresses. I'm kidding, of course, she can wear whatever she wants, including this limited edition Net-A-Porter number she wore to the Girls premiere.

One of the things that I think speaks to the success of Rodarte's overall project is that they seem to design for artists, intellectuals, iconoclasts like Kim Gordon, Tilda Swinton, and of course Mx Justin Vivian Bond:

On the note of things I like about them, my favorite collection of their was Spring 2011. I actually really liked all the Opening Ceremony stuff they did, it was closer to my universe. I think their early work was strong-- everything the sisters have done is strong and gorgeous and intriguing.

No homo, but when that collection came out I kind of got, for the first time, that the Mulleavy sisters were actually artists and not just clothing designers.

But there's a point I'm trying to make that I'm either too inarticulate or too biased, too angry and jaded, to make properly. I wish I could link to all of the literature about the label online but you can look it up. It's a weird thing where Wintour is championing it, the right people seem to love it, but you can't actually buy it. It's not for sale in a lot of places, and when it is it's beyond luxury-range expensive. It's a personal project. The Rodarte girl is not the cool downtown girl who works at an art gallery. She's the girl who opens her own gallery with her own money from her family and doesn't have to worry about selling work. She's free, she can do whatever she wants. There's something almost unfair about it. If you didn't know it was Rodarte it wouldn't be Rodarte. That's not new, but we live in such a weird time. I think Fashion, as many of the sagest thinkers (including Wintour and Kawakubo) often say, can tell you a lot about the world, about headlines, about current economic and cultural climes. So I'm not attributing this attitude to Rodarte as a creative force, but more to the discourse they've created and emerged from. Rodarte's rarefied success, connections, insouciance are not, as, say JW Anderson's might be, about asking questions, necessarily. It's seems to be more about a kind of freedom, a kind of in crowd. The label is a labor of love, they don't have to sell a lot of dresses to be part of the conversation. It seems to highlight a blind spot in the rationality of the fashion elite-- that with the right connections anything is possible. With those alone. Think of someone like Alaïa, for example, whom because of personal beef will never be featured in US Vogue.

The world is a tricky and unfair place, and that's not Rodarte's fault and I don't mean for it to sound like that. In fact I think I'm coming around. I would also like to recreate the world in a more beautiful, more personally meaningful way. To be surrounded by the things I already know I love, and imagine the world a place full of such things, remembered, recollected, which could love me back.


I'm really excited for this weekend, because as a second year Artist in Residence at BAX / Brooklyn Arts Exchange, I get to curate a weekend of shows, which is this weekend (Friday and Saturday). I've been very lucky to have Christopher Udemezue and isaac Richard Pool with Crystal Palmer present their work this weekend as NEWS CYCLE. I really hope you guys can come! Please, please buy a ticket and join us.

So much has been going on, I've been totally flabbergasted with so many wonderful and strange and very quick happenings and events. Last minute decisions and changes. Did I mention Mercury was Retrograde? I've been meditating every day this week so far. Three for three. Let's see if we can keep it up.

Been so obsessed lately with the deeper trenches of Annette Peacock. I mean, this song over and over too:

It's just so romantic and so angry and so beautiful and so crazy, all at the same time. That's what love is like, right? That's what romance is like. Or could be?

I'm behind on my New Yorker subscription. I'm catching up from a very long time ago. I read an article that described a guy here in New York who I'd gone on a date with. I liked him but I didn't think he liked me very much, so it didn't work out. I mean, he liked me, he definitely wanted to see me again, but the "me" that he liked, I think, was not actually the me that I actually am or could ever be, it was hard. But I was reading this article and he popped up and I thought how cool, how weird to be learning about him for the first time. I wonder if lots of guys will read that article and want to meet him.

I had a conversation recently where someone asked me what I wanted to be when I grow up. It was a really hard question. My reflex is to say that I'm an artist and I always want to be an artist but I know I'll never make my living off of it so I should try and have given up, and then I answer the question. But you know, I haven't given up. I don't think. I'm actually sort of excited and sort of horrified and sad that I have been and may continue to be wasting my life. But doesn't everyone worry about that, if they're honest enough with themselves?

I do struggle to articulate a perfect life though, a thing to be when I grow up. I literally do not know. I can't imagine a job or vocation or activity that I can say, certainly, would make me happy. Who can predict that accurately? Knowing me, I think, I'll always find a way to be miserable. Still though, I often fantasize about working for Rei Kawakubo or CdG in any capacity. Thus far it's been as a creepy customer. Like millions of other strivers. It's sad, for me. I'm sad about it, that I'll never get to do it. I don't know how to try, even. Not really.

Alan Ginsberg (who was a fucking pederast) asked America when he could go into the supermarket and buy what he needed with his good looks. This is a joke, of course, because he was an ugly person. He would have starved in a supermarket in America, then as now. Although, he is my type. He was my type, when he was younger. I would have been very attracted to him.

I don't want to go to the supermarket and buy what I need with my good looks. That's not how it works these days. It's something more along the lines of America, When Can I Apply to College, Get a Job Based on my Skin Color, Gender, Class performance and Yeah, I suppose, my So-Called Good Looks. It's actually hard, you guys. All this is to say I wish I could get hired by RK on the basis of something beyond my inborn stuff, genes. That I could apply and be useful there. Is that weird. At what age do you totally give up the ghost.

I was at DSM NY and I saw a different guy, who I had gone on two dates with, working there. This guy I actually liked a whole lot, he looks nothing like Ginsberg, but he just sort of blew me off. I always end up dating people right when they move to New York, and inevitably they go on to meet cuter and cooler people, whatever. So I saw this guy, clearly working at the store, nominally living my dream, and I was scared. He didn't seem to recognize me (I was bundled up). I passed by him and heard him call out my name. I turned, but he wasn't looking at me. He was going through the cash register and speaking loudly enough for someone with my same name in a dressing room to hear him. "How did those work out? That 15 3/4? Okay? Are those good, or--?"

The customer (sorry, client) with my name hollered back "They're perfect."


Thick Days

Ways of taking care of yourself. There are so many ways to take care of yourself. I called in sick from work today. My throat hurts and my sinuses are congested. I don't know if I have an infection, really, or if I'm just exhausted, run-down. Is there a difference? I'm making sausage and peppers from the Silver Palate cookbook like my mom did. Only now I make it with vegetarian sausage. ("A printed recipe may seem superfluous to those who throw such simmered sauce together on the spur of the moment. We think balance and harmony are as important here as anywhere else;").

There are so many ways of being sick, too. I played some great shows this month, I sort of figured I would get sick. B0DYH1GH played a bunch in anticipation of our new mythtape Lilded Gilly. Wrote some new songs, played a set at Strange Loop Gallery which was a lot of fun:

Photo by Ben Rosenberg

Then the next night we played Chris Tyler's TRL: TOTAL REJECTS LIVE event at the Public Theater, as part of the Under the Radar, American Realness, Prototype and COIL Festivals. So many cooks in the kitchen! It was a very special and overwhelmingly gorgeous night, we played a cover of Britney Spears' "Not a girl, not yet a woman" and made it turn into Placebo's "Pür Mourning". It was cute. I wore brown lipstick and a sparkly dress:

Photo by Tinker Coalescing.

The night after that I hosted a FAG CITY reading at Earl's Pussy Faggot party, featuring readings by Tommy Pico and Caroline Contillo and David Geer. They all fucking KILLED it, and lots of folks came up to me to complement me on the line-up, I felt very proud. I read the first story form the new issue of Scorcher, which I'm editing and want to release this month or next. The rest of PF was obviously fantastic too.

The next weekend I had the work-in-progress performances for my residency project at BAX, a new cabaret show titled MAPPLETHORPE. I'm really excited about it, but I'm nervous I won't be able to really promote it. There's no reason to be afraid of that. I don't know what my problem is. The performances went way better than I expected. I'm really excited by making this work, so that's why I'm nervous about people seeing it. It's like, pathetic, and funny, and sad. And I'm singing a lot. Like really going for it. We'll see.

Amidst the WIP performances, I had the distinct honor of reading as part of Triple Canopy's annual Making of Americans marathon performance. I had been complaining on social media for a few weeks about how I really wanted to be part of it, and then nothing happened. I found out it was the same weekend as the BAX shows, so I thought maybe it was for the best if they didn't invite me, since I wouldn't have much free time. But then they did invite me, after all, and I got to read bright and early on Sunday morning:

I was so happy to get to do it. Here's the thing: I totally bombed. It was actually really hard. Have you ever read The Making of Americans? It's really fucking hard. I've performed a lot, I've gone on my share of auditions and had to read things cold (that's showbiz for "never having read the material aloud before"), I sort of like to think I know what I'm doing. I wasn't trying to do a shtick or character, but I was trying to remember how Gertrude Stein's sentences are really long and complicated, and I thought I could do it, but I couldn't. I got caught in some loops, I think, I fucked up a lot. A lot a lot. I'm not sorry, the people were very gracious. I'll know better next time. It was still an honor and a treat.

I played at Sugarland on Friday night. It really is closing, I guess. David John Sokolowski's right-on blacklight party SWOON happened there one last time and they graciously let me sing a few songs. I had a lot of fun, especially because my old friend Julia Norton aka Ewok Vixen aka Jiddy No-No aka Jiddy No-No-No backup danced for me! And so many friends came. It was like old times sake. So many cool new kids go to David's events, it's really funny to meet people in New York who just moved here or aren't used to seeing you do your tired old act. It's enervating. Made some friends, and lots of other friends came too.

Kid of spent the rest of the weekend recovering. I went to some cool art shows but I'll write about those later.

The snow is so demoralizing. My recipe called for wine, so I had to go buy a tiny carton of red wine. And now I'm going to drink the part I didn't need to cook with. Is it fucked up to drink red wine, during the day, when you're sick? No, right? This is what Europeans do when they're sick. They must do it. I have a rehearsal in the BAX studio tonight, I don't know how I'm going to get through it. I ripped my skin off with an italia cloth last night, I wonder if it's bad for you. It had never occurred to me. Maybe too much exfoliation isn't such a good thing. In principle though it's always good.

I'm worried, right now, about being sick (here's what I'm worried about) and money! I owe money in taxes again this year, like I always do. I'm trying to track my spending better. I don't know where it goes, it's so weird. I need to prioritize saving. I want to buy a new pair of designer pants but I can't really justify the expense. Yet. I'm trying to make these $30 of groceries turn into one huge dish that I can hopefully eat all week. Today is my little brother's birthday. He's 27. No one in my family is a kid anymore, not even the dog.

The snow is sort of pretty, I'll admit after a sip of wine. You know, I'm thinking a lot lately, last night and this morning, about how some things can be both so ugly and so pretty at the same time.

And we're back. I MEANT TO ANNOUNCE, some things are back. I kind of creeped out my friends the other week when we were drinking and smoking: I meant to tell you that I got my mojo back. I think I'm getting it back. It just sucked being without it for so long. I'm going to eat lunch then take a nap then go make my art for a little while. And feel exhausted and uncomfortable for the snow and being sick. But I'm still actually pretty optimistic, overall. That there are lots; any number of options available, right now. And in the very near future.