Yes it is past 3am...
and I actually woke up early today...
and went on a job interview of all things.
If I got the job I'd be making motion graphics for streaming videos, the content being educational and medical.

Wouldn't it be amazing if I finally go a job? I have my doubts... but I hope so.

I survived a weekend visit to Buffalo without getting too wasted. I wanted to do two things, meet Soyeon and Hans' baby, lil' Eva G. (one of B-lo's newest residents) and meet Carolee Schneemann (WIKIPEDIA - Carolee Schneemann) . I met both... missions accomplished.





Eva is a little doll who I'm sure will grow up to be a German/Korean (AKA American) goddess. I suspect that Eva will look like her Mama and behave like her Daddy.
Now I consider myself to be a fairly attractive woman but just look how the baby Eva outshines the baby Robin... She makes me look like Pizza-the-hut.
(I blame my Daddy for not having the photography talent Hans does.)





About Carolee Schneemann... There is a retrospective up at CEPA until April 30th. In the basement gallery you will find her more erotic works including the film Fuses. I love that film.
Fuses is basically Schneemann filming herself and her then boyfriend making sweet love. In 1967 not many women had taken matters into their own hands like that. I think it's different from pornography because... it's beautiful... it seems real... like they know and care for each other and also because their is defiantly a mutual pleasure going on rather that a fake orgasm scream while some man pounds away until explosion.

so, Tony introduced me to Carolee for a minute. He told her I'd run off and gotten married so I pointed out Casey. He was over in the corner talking to Sean, one of the guys who runs CEPA. I'd introduced them with hopes that Sean would give Casey some solid advice on how to get grants for his magazine .
so I pointed Casey out and told Tony and Carolee that Casey just got his non-profit status for his magazine. Carolee then said "so you've chosen to live in poverty for the rest of your life." I think that's funny. She also talked about her film being shown without permission, which reminded be what a jerk that film teacher I had at ACA was. He was. The bastard never gave me my tape back.. when I specifically asked for it back... fucking Emory cuntman.

onto a stupid thing

The other day I was sitting on the toilet putting in my contact lens. There is a mirror right on the door in front of the bowl. So I sat there, took a piss and put in my eyes. Then I wiped, stood up and flushed. Right as I flushed I heard a click sound. I looked down and my glasses had fallen into the bowl. I stuck my hand down as fast as I could but low and behold, I flushed my glasses down the toilet. I stuck my hand in there far as it'd go but no luck. I got a coat hanger and felt around but the glasses were gone.

I'm going to stop writing because as funny as that may be it still pisses me off. They were new glasses and they were not only beautiful but useful.

so... Casey and me are driving up tomorrow. We are going to stay in Liz's apt. She is going to Disneyland. I'm excited to see little Eva and to meet Soyeon's mom... even though neither one speak English and I don't speak baby or Korean.
I watched this stupid TV program on the function of vision last night. Some man made these goggles that turn vision upside down. Apparently when you wear them you have to relearn how to control your hands and body. It reminded me of backing up a car... It makes you have sympathy for babies because... hell, they have to learn to use their bodies.
On Saturday I want to go to CEPA to see Carolee Schneemann's work.

so....
late happy birthday Matthew. 26 is a fine and masculine number that I hope to reach myself in a couple months. Speaking of birthdays... Soyeon's baby, Eva, was born yesterday. She's a little thing, beautiful and in good health. I am planning on traveling to Buffalo the weekend of the 31st so I can get a look at this baby in person.
Right now I'm in Atlanta. Casey and me had a strange encounter in Starbuck's earlier. I was dressed kind of cute in shorts and knee boots. We walked into the coffee shop and some dude in the corner kept making vulgar gestures. Casey kept looking over at him and shrugging. The stranger did a jack off motion and kisses but I didn't see that. Whenever I looked at the guy he was smiling broadly. Casey got angry and told the guy to stop. The guy got up and they started arguing like they were going to fight. Then the guy went back to his seat but Casey was pissed off for a while afterwards. I couldn't go print my pictures at the camera place because Casey was worried about that guy still being around.
If someone is making rude gestures I'm uncomfortable with I don't even look their way. I pretend they don't exist. If I'm alone I can feel uncomfortable but with friends around it doesn't bother me. Casey... is different. I'm glad he's a stand up guy, you know, a manly sort of man but at the same time I hate it when he gets angry and frustrated.
Why would anyone sit around starbuck's and leer at people?
Casey just got home from his super fun Georgia obligations. Casey talked about the starbuck's dude with his classmates and finally realized that the dude was hitting on him and not me. The classmates think the guy is a big black closeted hairless (even his head) bear or something.

Casey got a cut on his palm. It looks like he's reshaped his head line.

That started a google search on palm reading and I came across this palm reading site.

This site has Japanese comics on the left and the English translations on the right... seems like the translator is learning English. It's a good site.

If Casey's cut did have the power to alter his head line he would change from being a romantic to a realist.


Casey just yelled at me for leaving spoiled mink on the counter. Is that romantic or realistic?
I don't think it's either.
I was going to get to throwing it away...
I'm a mess, nothing new about that.

It's currently 5:48 AM. The original Star Trek is on the television. What makes me a Romulan rather than a Vulcan? Casey is asleep softly snoring. The Cat, Sweetiepie is curled up in my spot. I've smoked so many cigarettes I can taste a foul yellow coat lining my mouth. I'm waiting for the sunrise. I love the sunrise. I've seen it for the past few days.

The giant monitor is looming and glaring around the clock. I've discovered many shows. Earlier I passively took in "Dirt" the FX series. It's a fun time when stereotyped characters exhibit traits of mental illness. VH1's reality shows consumed my time earlier. I Love New York too.
She's a drag queen minus the package.

As far as my bizarre sleeping patterns go... I wouldn't say they are aligned with my excessive electronic intake. Last summer in Greensboro at the Elsewhere Artist co-op, I took on the job of night watchman. I'd curl op on a couch, down in the store and read poorly written romance novels throughout the night. My fellow artists seemed to think I had a bizarre sleeping rhythm. When I was in my solitary little place in Buffalo nobody took any particular interest in my unusual state of being. I seem to be throwing Casey's schedule off...

At this time I could be more bored and lazy than usual. I've never been a huge fan of the original Star Trek. I've always been partial to The Next Generation. Now I've seen 3 original episodes in the past 2 days. I'm actually impressed, not as impressed as I was with Rocky II, but still quite awed by the inventive mind of Gene Roddenberry. Hell, I even watched an episode of Voyager tonight. I can't stand the Doctor on Voyager. He ain't got shit on Dr. Beverly Crusher.

But on to more interesting subjects... I've started an Alliance character in Area 52. Nothing magic, just a strong woman with big tits. I can feasibly start living a simulated double life.... To bad this laptop gives pain in the neck after a while.

I need to get out of my comfort rut. Casey has recently rented an office space so he'll be out of the house more often. I visited the space today. It looks like an art gallery, tall ceilings, white walls and a polished cement floor.

It's strange living here because so little of my material being shows itself in this apartment. It's really Casey's place. He's told me to use his desk and computer in the living room but I'm stagnant. I need a room of my own. Yes, I've been corrupted by Virginia Woolf's essay A Room Of One's Own.

Woolf's recipe for creating was...

... it is necessary to have five hundred [pounds] a year and a room with a lock on the door if you are to write fiction or poetry." (Virginia Woolf)


so... money, privacy, space and time are her key ingredients. Not that I'm bitching because I want to be a poet... I want to work with words and images. I think Woolf's recipe can apply to a range of creative activities.

... at the moment... I have time. Money, privacy and space are things I need to work for. If I work for the money my time will be compromised. I've got to sort out these things, find some balance. These odd hours must give me an edge in some kind of field, however, it's not apparent.


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