Wednesday, September 06, 2006


In The Bucolic Trappings of the Neurocranium


What is our obligation to our mission and purpose? Wealth, security, cultural relevance. Maybe Charlie Parker on the turntable? If Joseph Addison were alive today! Would he stop the senseless slaughter of the African elephant? Why not Democracy as a fundamentalist movement? Extremist fart gags and all. Instead let us enjoy the self perpetuating climate time bomb, and with proper table setting: a radiant juice freshly squeezed from political and ecionomic forces, as there will be no room for existentialism tonight my nihilist friend, only rational empiricism with lemon grass. A pilaf with a hint of tumeric, accompanied by a suspension of ethical, and rational knowledge, and yes a tartare will be in high order. A blood orange sorbet will follow, served in a reduction of life's priorities. It's very essence causes images of immortality, and at times, thoughts of exceptionalism.

My Current Rotation:

Modest Mouse: This is a long drive for someone with nothing to
to think about

Stephan Stills: Manassas

Syd Barrett: Barrett

Soft Machine: Volume Two

Beausoleil: Cajunization Blues

Friday, August 04, 2006


Transcript from a Dream had in Recent Restless Sleep


Upon arriving home I found that the screen door had been ripped open and my front door pryed ajar. Entering I saw thin flannel nightgowns hanging from the door jams, and at once I registered the familiar prescence of a ghost from day's past, whom may have returned in the night, with a spare key she may have hidden. But this was not to be, for upon further inspection there were bloated duffels of clothes scattered about, and various other odd wares. The drawers in my studio had been rifled through, and there were mounds of large ash deposited at various points on the floor. Then there was a knock at the front door, and who stood there was but a young couple that were close freinds. After explaining they had come over for a nightcap, I proceeded to expound upon my dilema. The three of us sat on the larger sofa, and she unrobed. As she sat completly nude between us, he began to investigate her vaginal area with great interest, and I, becoming quite uncomfortable, finally retired to sleep.

When I awoke my young acquaintances had already departed, though there a strange congregation of people on the porch. I walked outside as to inquire about the invasion and sustained damage, when an elderly woman approached me. She explained that she had rented the upstairs apartment, but as there was 18 pople in her family, each basically of a different ethnic origin, and with not nearly enough room, she called the local ombudsman, whom then instructed her to break into my house to temporarily store their possibles. She convinced me to board her caravan so we could proced to the shopping center, where she would replace what was broken. On this journey I listened to each of their unremarkable transcient stories, and of course how they all shared the same mother, and such.

Reaching the galleria, I realized that I should be working, and after much labor I procured a cell phone to call out. The connection was terrible, and at the concierge desk was a man barely able to mutter broken English. He repeated my name, and that is all that I know. The link broke, and there was no other ringtone to be had. I gave back the device, and left to hang out at an AllTell kiosk, eventually convincing someone to let me make a call on their phone, and still no service. In doing this I became estranged from my present company entirely.

Then two good buddies appeared and invited me on a deep sea excursion. Now on a 30' charter boat with someone landing a substantial fish, I grabbed a priest, that was in actuality the be-good stick kept within my foyer. The fish began to surface, and at once a collective roar was cast over the vessel as the monster reared itself, it resembled a Brontosaurus with it's long neck, and smallish head. As the catch neared boatside there was then a firm grasp on my right shoulder. It was that moment I realized I was probably dreaming. I turned to my right to embrace that familiar, ghostly prescence I had anticipated before, but found nothing as I fell into a bottomles void.

(2:40am 8.4.06)

The bird you see above, smashed into my kitchen window right after I had stepped out to scratch down these thoughts about my dream, when I came back to grab my notes, there it lie. First such circumstance in 8 years of living here. It received a majestic burial.

My Current Rotation:

Daevid Allen: Banana Moon

Adrian Belew: Side 3 (God Bless You Ken Latchney, may you gig eternal)

Drive By Truckers: A Blessing and a Curse

Gong: You

Velvet Underground: VU

Wednesday, June 28, 2006




Cosmology and the Creative Global Economic

What is humanity's place in the totality of the universe, and what is the responsibility of the visual, non-verbal interpreter? Maybe innovation within the realms of a recognisable discipline, or resisting the aesthetic decree, to a degree that is none too esoteric. So heave away, before you find yourself asleep at shore, for at the heart of all that matters lies contribution. Let us all share the tarry as time is perennialy short. Gather your favorite totems and celebrate the Summer solstice.
The work on oak board is the resurgance of a form abandoned over a year ago. "If You See Her Say Hello" (10x8, goache & India ink on gesso) , named after a tune by Bob Dylan, was for J. Bauer's campsite, as it is a weather proof work of art, engulfed in varnish, and hung amoung the standing timber. The spot was named for his dog Marley (Marley's Bluff), as she had recently passed on. It is by far the most representational work in the series, all on board, typically mahogany, and coated with varnish, but none so well preserved as this one.


Current Rotation:

1. Mason Jennings: Boneclouds
2. Jeff Buckley: Grace
3. Adrain Belew: Side 3
4. Ollabelle
5. Neil Young: Living with War

Monday, May 15, 2006


The Midnight Shoppers
Carousing through the ether, gliding almost effortlessly amongst the manifestos, and other such fodder. Nothing remains hidden from these midnight shoppers of insight, and assorted intellect. They ruthlessly scrutinize the material trappings of modern society, pushing it's very membrane to the point of exhaustion, or quite possibly rupture. Brokering in a currency that transcends the inflationary trend of our uncertain economic delirium, maybe even a little green rosetta. The midnight shoppers do not care of bargains had, or receipt of purchase, for it is when you slumber that they are on quantitative terms. Fueled by a bipartisan resolution to be the scourge of contemporary cerebration. May you one day break bread with them.
The image above was originaly to be the last in a series of small abstractions, (untitled, 5.5.05, gesso & goache on oak board, covered with spar varvish, 8"x6"). They have recently been revived with a new vigor, with an extension of the atomosheric quality aspect that got me going on these in the first place. This was the only untitled piece in the series, the rest being named after obscure song titles. And by the way...
My Current Rotation:
Chunga's Revenge: Frank Zappa
Legion of Mary: The Jerry Garcia Collection Vol. 1
Andrian Belew: Side 2
Genesis: Nursery Cryme
Phil Manzanera: guitarissimo

Friday, March 24, 2006


The Custom Concern for the People:

Trying to be a literate American in a multicultural democracy, though reinforcing the Sapir-Whorf hypothesis, we try to celebrate this vernacular equinox even if we are feeling a bit autumnal.






An article of essential consideration: "The State of the News Media 2006", the Project for Excellence in Jornalism.

The new Grant St. Apologetics contend the recent statement, that Inspiration is "beyond the realm of calculated intention", (The Observer; 3.12.06). We say it is no more than motivation. Devotion to your craft will at times yield unintelligable aspects of inner being, and, as any non-verbal expression is already indeed inspired. As warnings rise over rising seas and ballooning arses, yet there is hope...

My Current Rotation:

The Derek Trucks Band: Songlines
Lou Reed/ John Cale: Songs for Drella
Rachel's: Selenography
Keller Williams: Loop
Tom Waits: Bone Machine

Monday, February 27, 2006




Concrete Details Left Ambiguous


The very first non-objective, or abstract piece, india ink and designer's goache, 05.02.04. No symbolism, just an examination of modernist expression, a conveyance of movement, rural communique, rudimentary color field painting.



Monday, January 30, 2006


Grant St. Press as Critical Theory


When recently asked why do I exhibit work that can be easily pirated, and thus this led to the issue of why create a web log at all (?),

A: I replied I do not consider my abstractions to be worthy of covet, especially in the monetarial sense. My foremost purpose is to alter the consideration of the viewer, to let them exist for a moment outside the mundane. This site also serves an aperture for the overflow, allowing all to join in on the grand paradigm. The view is not cynical, it is straightforward critique, with an unbaised eye. Hoping for change.

On to the Velvets, (my current rotation);

"Peel Slowly and See" is one of the most rewarding listens I've ever experienced, being somewhat of a naivete of their music, I now have found myself fully immersed, trying to absorb a shard of the dimension the Velvet Underground occupied for the short time they were together. They defy genre, and are of the anvil that modern rock was forged, (See Mr. Rain take 1, on Disc 3, with some serious surrealistic viola) . The 5 disc box set contains their first four albums with outtakes and live material, and a disc of their original rehearsals at John Cales loft. And given today, when recorded music is so choreographed and rehearsed to acheive the success of the single, to hear this music evolve in a single session of takes on the first disc is incredibly archealogic, and Lou Reed's New York City street savy lyrics provide the frosting to this euphonious cake. This is without a doubt very important music, and the appendage must be the 3 disc "Quine tapes", live recordings from 1969. Considered by many, the best quality live material recorded for mass comsumption. Bon Apetite.

Wednesday, January 18, 2006


Sharpening Occam's Razor, and More Honestly the Principle of Parismony


The American ideal can be summerized in two films, "The Big Labowski", and "Being John Malcovich".
I have sent Kim Jong il some G Love and Special Sauce, specifically " Yea, it's that Easy", I beleive it will lead to a united nuclear roundtable.
The work is entitled "Judgement Day, or the End of the Myth". India ink, and designer's goache, konstructed in August 2004, a continuation of the emptying of the vault. V.S.O.P. goache.