Illegal Tender

Q: Why do I always wait until the last minute to start important projects?
A: Because I'm a no-good, lazy bum.

Look, ma! I made some money.

6000 Miles

I think I'll start blogging again, but nobody gets to know. No advertising, no visitor counts. Just the handful of people who stumble across this thing and don't mind the jumbled-up mess going on in my head.

Pack Cat Cat Pack

I am starting to worry that I won't finish packing in time.
The more I worry, the less I pack.

Questions:
1.) How does that make any sense?
2.) Do you have any idea how much I hated this cat?

Asheville

smells like hippies and the critters that grow on the bottom of boats.

Analog is Dead

Cliche Sunset, But Let Me Wax Sentimental

My last night in New York City. As I continue to put off packing until the last possible second and begin to part ways with my fleeting Brooklyn home, I find myself surprisingly content. I just finished sucking the marrow dry from this city, and I'm ready for the next big thing. If I'd left yesterday, it would have been too soon, and tomorrow afternoon would be too late... you can call me the Goldilocks of Bushwick.

Waiting for the Subway

Nostalgic for an Era I Never Knew

I handwashed three loads of laundry with a washboard and a big metal basin. The whole loft smelled like a steaming vat of synthetic mountainside springtime. I felt so bohemian, stringing clotheslines across my bedroom in my painted-up button-down, some Jimmy Hendrix album sc-sc-scratching on a record player in the background. It felt like a throwback to another era, nearly an idyllic moment, but I was wrenched from bliss by the resounding chorus in my head: should have been twenty forty years ago. That's when things were happening, man.

Peace, love, protest, drugs, rights... It's like we've got to find something to bring us together. A generation organized in twos and threes and tens and twenties will never revolutionize, and a cult of underfed Williamsburg suburbanites living off their parents' trust funds can hardly qualify as a counterculture.

...Annnnnd, We're Back.

To make a long story short: you can expect posts on a fairly regular basis once again, and this is the view from our back porch.

Subterranean Homesick Blues

Told Me I Was Beautiful

Don't say goodbye like you're burying him
'Cause the world is round, and he might return.

A Smorgasbord of Observations

1.) I can tell which of my five roommates is taking a shower by the color of the towel on the rack. I find this strangely comforting.

2.) In a little more than a month, I will spend my days in Manhattan working with one of the first video artists in the world in Manhattan, and I will spend my nights in Williamsburg with nine 20-something artists in a huge, half-finished loft. My summer is going to be ridiculous.

3.) In the past year, a total of three women sitting directly across from me on the subway have burst into tears. I don't ride the subway often--once a month max--so it's a bizarre coincidence.

4.) It is not a reasonable goal to walk the length of New York City in one day. At least not if you're easily distracted. And in flip flops.

5.) Good things always happen with the worst possible timing. My theory is that when the timing is terrible, you've got nothing to lose. When you've got nothing to lose, it's easier to take a risk. The bigger the risk, the bigger the potential payoff. Thus, risks = happiness.

6.) I cry more during movie previews than I do during movies. Which is not a lot, but still weird.

7.) 90% of the music I listen to the most was introduced to me in high school. 90% of that 90% was introduced to me by my roommate. My music library has become totally stagnant. This is no good at all. I think I'll organize a mixed tape exchange immediately.

Mather Spring Formal

Great dancing, great date, great dress, great house... I couldn't have asked for a better night. The whole event was Mather to the core: open bar, solo cups everywhere, big tent full of sweaty, dancing drunks... It felt a little post-apocalyptic during clean-up, but it was fantastic being surrounded by so many people I know and love, all having a crazy time. There's something so awesome about having a formal in your own backyard.

[42]

I'd tell all my friends, but they'd never believe me
They'd think that I'd finally lost it completely
I'd show them the stars and the meaning of life
They'd lock me away, but I'd be all right

Look, Ma! I'm On a Postcard!

If you're in the Boston area and you're free tonight, you should come by Mather! This exhibition will be up in the Three Columns Gallery, and there's an ArtsFirst Coffee House starting at 8:00 in the Senior Common Room. Six of my works are on display in the gallery, and three of my videos will screened at the coffee house. It should be a pretty good time!

Wait, What?

The grant money came through.

I'm going to India next semester.

Wigging Out

Cheer up, mannequins! You're wearing ridiculous wigs!

Sometimes subtlety isn't my strong suit.

What I like about this photograph is that I can't tell if I'm about to be run over or if I've just been saved.

The House That Jack Built