chirps and crackles
23 May 2023
staring at the blood dried on my beige tote bag, left behind by the J train from myrtle-broadway, i finger my ear. The silent echo of the Dunkin’ Donuts’s web page reverberating within my mind. Cory Arcangel’s So shines a good deed in a weary world (dunkindonuts.com) screened at a gallery occupying a former Dunkin’ Donuts in the financial district. Composed of shots of the artist browsing the Dunkin’ Donuts website, the company’s vine and youtube channels, unaccompanied by a soundtrack beyond the diegetic sounds of these sites, the piece left me cackling in the hallowed out backroom. Next to Krispy Kreme donut boxes, I watched 30 minutes of Rob Gronkowsky answering questions about his favorite donut, the endless scroll of topping options, the silent dance of plastic coffee cups, and the triumph of one man’s culinary concoction over false claims to the donut throne.[ ... ]
drowning in milk
24 April 2023
Over the past month, I’ve been thinking back to Michael Warner and the late Lauren Berlant’s essay “Sex in Public.” One of the central questions of the essay is how intimate spaces ground community within particular property relations. The club, the public park, the subway, the sex shop—any space unfolds a particular set of intimacies, allowing certain forms of closeness to flourish and others to perish. The relation between intimacy and space is a political question as policy, the economy, and the police shape which intimate spaces are able to exist, particularly in cities where property values are exceedingly high.[ ... ]
see you around
17 February 2023
january is the warmest month
heat eminating from the exploding birds in my back garden
one day, the cigarette ash lingering between the miss-matched pebbles, inside the pet cemetery where he buried the pigeon who died on the fire escape, but only after the momentous blizzard bled out into a slurry of mud and piss, was a fire finally lit.
another day, the cigarette butt blossoming within the windswept sand, where their body became a shield from the gusts gnawing at her slight frame, before the chocolate truffles were tucked away between plastic wrapped delicacies and glass tubes, they kissed before christ.
august is the coldest month
i wait to warm up
thinking of principal skinner
2 February 2023
doghouse basement and pagan diy, or 9:45 on new year's eve
2 January 2023
I heard ray, the building manager of my old apartment on 13th street, squeaking out the speakers. new years eve, i’d been tasked with opening the show and decided to do something more ambient than my usual performance. my patience for soft sound disappeared as I found opportunity in absence. pivoting, I began adding compression and distortion to the dreamy synth loops, layering 808s under skittering insects, and pulling stray field recordings from my computer.[ ... ]
30 December 2022
From Rapid City to Missoula[ ... ]
rapid city south dakota
28 December 2022
Rapid city, South Dakota
Driving back from Sally O’Mallie’s Pub and Casino, the weight of our decision to drive thousands of miles fell heavy on us. The early mourning enthusiasm accompanying our departure from Rochester, Minnesota had dissipated. In its place hung the smell of cows and manure, the open sky untouched by city lights, and the dread of another 9 hour drive.
Earlier in the day, passing the frozen Minnesota fields, the wind gathered snow into streams that flowed across the highway. The continuous gusts intensified the white river, obfuscating the road entirely. It was beautiful and threatening. An alien ground emerging from the asphalt. We drove suspended yet fixed to the ground, relying on the unchanging straight line of the road.
Alice gazed out the window. She remarked on the beauty of the windmills that populated the landscape. Their tenacious rotation the elevated compliment to what flowed beneath us. The windmills offered a welcome break from the icy fields. A verticality that dwarfed the grain silos and barns. Soon enough, there would only be the horizon slipping into darkness, a flat drive for hour and hours.
Some of our listening:
Sun Ra - Sleeping Beauty
Albert Ayler - Love Cry
XTC - Black Sea
Minutemen - Double Nickels on the Dime
New Order - Power, Corruption & Lies
Lucretia Dalt - ¡Ay!
TrueAnon - Bush Did 9/11 (part 1)
25 December 2022
last christmas before our divorced sorority christianity between triffles and the holiday after i lost my license still don’t have a credit card we fell asleep in my absent grandparents’ twin bed why do you make me feel like it was a mistake to love you? when you snapped about the return date i left unspecified. a year later carving holiday designs into my damaged sexuality publicly on the northeast corridor i closed the door. tofurky daze mom needs space dad’s from outer space emotional management left me with the bill principle debt: fascist fiancés hollywood dreams cleaning cost for piss-stained floors hugging pillows under gnawing green snow shaped dollar slices thirty dollar tickets to half-baked ambition. now i need to pay. last christmas last thanksgiving last holiday i think i need some space
9 December 2022
I lost my mind a bit this year. not that that is an unusual occurrence. everyone lost their mind a bit in 2020. 2021 embodied the reverberations of collective destabilization. this year, my off-kilter mental state started with a strike. my co-workers and I had been striking for ten weeks, reaching an agreement with our employer only after a nerve-wracking winter filled with insults and threats. the strike was a heartening display of a solidarity; it demonstrated material webs of support that subsist social and professional life.[ ... ]
18 November 2022
march 2021 i’m selling my bedframe on craigslist. a buyer offers to mail me a check to pay for the movers. I accept. bounced checks, scams averted by cash app, my bedframe thrown out on the street.
maybe i’m too trusting, gullible, or naïve. but, in the moment, I just wanted to believe it would be that easy to get rid of the bedframe. but instead i abandoned it on 9th street, with whatever other objects i refused to carry to 13th.
a year later, much of what I did carry filled the 13th. i regret leaving behind a lamp from when i was a child, but it had been reduced to a broken pole connecting a colorful trio of bulbous lights. on 9th, still standing, it slanted over the steeped floor.
2 November 2022