expand my klein bottle and let me out

I wrote this almost 7 years ago:

SATURDAY, SEPTEMBER 6, 2008

all that's solid melts into air

usually, i am completely ok with who i am. i'm satisfied, thinking i have made mostly the right choices, dealing with the fact that i haven't made some folks too happy with my "art school" notions and my tattoos and living in a world that is unlikely to get me a well paying job. sometimes, i feel i've disappointed my family, but in a very superficial way such as cutting my hair too short and wanting to move to berlin instead of paris and fleeing for california instead of back to the east coast. and i sort of wonder, thinking maybe they are right...maybe i'm pushing myself into this life that is so different from what was originally planned for me, from who i am. but then i do what everyone who feels this way does and say its bullshit.

i am not a new yorker, no matter how hard i'm pushed in that direction. i am not seeking power and glory and money. i am completely (for the most part) carefree about where i might end up in 2 years. in fact, it excites me, knowing i can be anywhere. i spent the past seven years in chicago, where i became a much different person than when i first moved there. my life changed drastically. there were the rollercoaster highs and the low tides and the one time my heart shattered, but mostly, it was splendid. and i wouldn't change it for anything. i would not change me anymore. i think i am who i am supposed to be. for many reasons. and instead of having doubts about my future path, i worry about student loans. typical.

three weeks ago i stopped feeling comfortable. i left the one place that had immediately felt like home (a place i barely left for more than 2 weeks in 7 years) and moved to san francisco. my close friends, the tree lined streets, and the stoop i loved all vanished. i have forgotten how to be alone and i really am bad at it. being alone is not easy...your heart becomes heavy, yearning for a dog to walk, a monday night dinner, a shared laugh. there's little laughter. you are not as strong as you want people to think. habits are hard to break, even when the people you share them with are far gone. i miss the movie nights, i miss the cigarettes, i miss the streetlights. but that's necessary. i've waited a long time to be where i am and i have no intention of turning back. i have the intention of suceeding. i want to be an exhibition maker. ausstellungsmacher.

goodbye chicago. i love you.
goodbye friends. you are always in my heart.

hello san francisco. you have a lot to live up to.
hello friends. you have even more to live up to.

Saturday, July 26

Now, I am in Buffalo where I am struggling with the same types of things. Breaking the same habits, missing friends I made in Austin daily and seeing the prominence of their lives flash before me on social media. I want to be back in Austin where eating tacos for every meal is perfectly alright and there are children of my friends running amidst adults drinking party drinks and sneaking cigarettes and swimming happens all of the time. Cowboy boots regularly, hot coffee and iced coffee and late night sessions of friends on the porch. But we are not there. And most luckily I say we because I am not alone anymore. I have my boys-the most lovely boys in the world. One amazingly kind man and one amazingly snuggly dog. And we are making friends and late night sessions are starting to happen. I have succeeded in my career and I am doing the things I left Chicago to do and I cannot be happier with that decision. Its just getting used to the unsung future that has me thinking backwards instead of forwards. I assume that is nature and I'm ok with that right now. Happy to be heading to San Francisco for 1 day and 2 nights to see those new old friends and love on them with my heart and leave again a stronger person. Renewed, California style. 

There's room for your head in the corner

One must have chaos in one to give birth to a dancing star.
-Raymond Federman

today is tomorrow

“There are two kinds of light – the glow that illuminates, and the glare that obscures.”

—James Thurber

diamond crossing

let's say, all is quiet on the eastern front. it is quiet outside. the windows are closed though. perhaps not as quiet as i think. the eastern front, as i now call our neighborhood, is loud and brassy. dogs bark, insects peep, cars rumble and trees sway. but right now, i hear the overhead fan spinning. i hear skeeter sighing every once in awhile which makes me smile. and yet, i don't want the quiet and i do. 

i think tomorrow it will be the same. yes and no. back and forth. let's just say, all is quiet until it's not.

amor fati

sometimes its ok to go a little crazy. like when you drink a little too much with your girlfriends and end up dancing on an empty dance floor to an empty stage. you are not hurting anyone. some people would think you are lame; others think you are awesome. you don't think because you're just happy pretending to two-step with the man you are going to marry.

i came here on my own

the tea i am drinking at work is old, but it still has a taste. i really just need something hot and i think the old tea is working. today there are chills in the air.

i want to write about color, but my brain is hurting because its monday and thanksgiving is on thursday and i really just want to be home cooking for the party. but i keep seeing color everywhere and i want to make a show about it and i want it to actually occur. so, after this is done, i'll read more. and listen to the tallest man on earth.

orange scissors, purple pen, hot pink book. these decorate my desk, creating mountains, allowing for little space to type. my desk is hill country. there are no meadows though. only hills.

i'm starting to realize that as much as i love what i do, i need another hobby. i rode my bike yesterday. it felt amazing and the sun was shining and it didn't matter that i still hate the men's saddle i have. it was perfect. but i need a different hobby besides riding my bike. i need to not sit on my couch when i get home. i should make things. i should volunteer. i should turn my desk into west texas instead of hill country.

tomorrow i can do that. tomorrow i can find a hobby too i think. i think it needs to be far from art. or maybe just really crafty as to not confuse.

tomorrow i can do that.

possibility and probability

it has been absolutely too long since i've written in this blog. i also barely read my emails that come through on gmail and i am pretty horrible at returning phone calls. avoidance. i don't really know why though. maybe now that i am 30 and am supposed to be a bit more grown up, i am reverting back to not wanting responsibility. not worrying about the future and the fiscal implications of marriage. not taking a stand against things i know to be bullshit and also just not talking about how i am feeling with my parents, friends, siblings, etc. i am using this post, as i have used many others in the past, as an arrow. an arrow that shoots right into the middle of a long list of tasks that i have been avoiding. that is about all i have to say about this topic right now. except for that i will resume posting here on a regular basis.

30 years young

in a few days and all i can do to get through the horribleness of today is think about two-stepping later and my beautiful bearded man and all of the people that i love. work absolutely sucks today. so does at&t uverse internet set up.

before the law

things i love are letterpress invites and robert rauschenberg and tea any time of day.
things i love are nick's beard and nick's new sense of style wearing cardigans.
things i love are a night full of fires and friends who constantly are laughing.
things i love are love and amy's dogs in their sweaters and my dog's insane knowledge.
things i love are walking in chicago on a fall day crunching leaves and smoking cigarettes outside.
things i love are tiny love bites from nick and waking up in my bed with my dog under my arm.
things i love are amazing artists that are sweet and excited about life, that make rad paintings.
things i love are new york city bagels and going to museums and walking forever and brooklyn.
things i love is my art collection that is scattered and amazing, with large and small pieces.
things i love are california and the smell of sunshine and delicious wine on a porch.

i guess there is a super long list that keeps getting longer. i guess there is nothing wrong with that.

jupiter is a sun that failed

indian summer

for what its worth, the first half of my 29th year has been a fantastic voyage. as i sit here and look at the collections of cards pinned into my wall, i honestly couldn't ask for a better situation. i am one and the other. i am here and now. i am east and west. austin has been so good to me. i intend to be even better to it back. so, let's step forth for the second half of my 29th year and jump right in. you are ready, so i will be too.

unfocus

my days have been spent at a desk and my nights have been spent in the company of glorious women and men. new friends for a old summer. last night there was a pizza party complete with 6 dogs and flowing rose. before that there were micheladas and cheese plates and american spirits at the san jose. there have been swimming hole adventures and barbeque and lots more wine and music and poker nights and delicious conversations full of good smells. i try to understand how i got so lucky, but really, it doesn't matter. a new family for austin. i am in love with it.

however, i am also in love with the fact that i will see almost all of my favorite people in new york city next week. i'm coming for you all. full of sunshine.

forever

Tracey Emin, "Running Naked," 2000.
Courtesy the artist.

you and the sun

remember the first time you realized who you were? before you were french press coffee and slip on men's shoes and art talk and more art talk and old crow medicine show on repeat. remember when you hunted for geo-trackers on bikes and ate at dunlays every night and smoked rolled cigarettes and drank arnold palmers? that was after you realized who you were. it was before the french press though. it was before california. remember yourself before california? remember yourself before chicago? remember yourself packing for college? heavy winter sweaters and boot cut jeans and picture albums and books that made you look arty. remember your mother crying at the airport and you crying in the airplane? that was before you knew who you were. that was when you thought the black and white photographs you made were the most amazing things ever and the volvo you drove constantly had guster and weezer playing and you drank illicit 40s on your back porch and watched english television in brianne's basement. that was when you were just starting out.

within seconds

last sunday, i spent at a wedding for a very close friend of mine. i went to that wedding knowing that i would love every minute of it and that i would think: do i want this too? so i have been thinking and i have been wanting it too. at least i think i do. how do you really know? when does a girlfriend become a wife? when does a boyfriend become a husband? those distinctions seem so far apart. and why do we say girlfriend and boyfriend? am i a teenager with my first crush? and doesn't life partner just sound old and weird speaking about kids in their late 20s? maybe he should be my husband. maybe that is just what is appropriate now.

i found myself spending the week at work, thinking about weddings and husbands and knowing that i am on that path definitely. the questions come from all sides. when will this happen? you are not getting younger. you want to have babies right? sure, yes, of course. i want babies and i want a husband and i want security. but don't i have that already? not real babies, just a puppy that needs a lot of attention and i have security with nick. he loves me; i love him. we fight, we laugh, we share bills and a bed and our lives. so do i really need a party and a person to say you may kiss the bride and a piece of paper stating legality? i thought i didn't. i don't think i do.

but man, i really wouldn't mind a huge party with my friends and family and a beautiful dress and nick standing at the end of the aisle looking at me like there is nothing else that matters. but he does that already, so i have no cause to complain.

off site

today i learned how to master the arthouse website a little bit more. although slightly gratifying, i would rather spend my time looking at videos of artists i want to show and contemplating my first exhibition i'll put on at arthouse this summer. i just for the first time was introduced to these dutch twins who are anorexic and act as one person. i think it is ok that is creeps me out.

i plan to read faust this summer.

i recently traveled to boston to groton back to boston back to austin for my ten year high school reunion. we looked at each other, all of us, in a tent, outside of a tent, in a hotel, in our cars, and we saw what made each of us glorious individuals. at least i did. honestly, my life without groton would seem a bizarre undertaking that i want nothing to do with. however strong and motivated i may be, i credit a bit to my parents, and most of it to my people at groton. it felt slightly strange to be back but also perfectly wonderful and i would not trade anything for that one day one night and that cheeseburger club this past weekend.

i plan to read a lot this summer.

we want to feel you

nina fischer and maroan el sani

Hervé Laurent

cloudmakers

i feel broken down.

everlasting light

love this apartment. love this song.

fortify

since i've been feeling a bit lazy lately, i've decided to write at least one blogpost a month about an artist who's work is hitting me hard. however, i will start tomorrow. today, i am reading rem koolhaas' essay junkspace and then i have to fiddle with some technology as well as start a proposal for the CCA in montreal's young curator's program. then i have a birthday party to attend.