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the anywhere labyrinth
-Mr. Martin’s book also has the heft to deliver penetrating thematic analyses of each García Márquez work, even if literary criticism is not its first concern. “No one writes,” “solitude,” “autumn,” “funeral,” “death foretold,” “labyrinth,” “kidnapping”: these are all words used in García Márquez book titles and, as Mr. Martin asserts, words that imply some challenge to power.
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visual
in my art, i’m trying to learn a language that’s not my own. it’s constantly reaching the level of fluency, but it always retreats. there are just some forces that will always keep it unfinished, missing pieces. i can speak the language of a foreign culture, i can visit that country but i can never be one of them. i’m an alien, forever. today i learned that product manufacturers in china are so good at recreating knockoffs that it seeps into every product line without warning. you can drink a beer and it will taste and feel like beer, but later your head throbs and your stomach burns because instead of using alcohol they use formaldehyde. just try to think of all the lies you receive in a day. the lies you see in front of you, the lies you hear in conversation, you can’t even tell what’s real and what’s fake anymore. the new reality is based on lies, false imagery. reality is a lie.
i watched american idol tonight. its funny how the best art is made without any thought behind it. they’re just a voice. it’s not even their song. not even close. but they can sing it and we see those words coming out of those lips and it looks so real. but art is never real, always disconnected. all the pieces, parts completely separate from one another, to create a spectacle. and it usually works.
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spotted
yes, you are spotted. ive spotted you so many times, you and your ridiculous tan even though it’s winter, and your ridiculous tattoos that are so hot because theyre all black and white but they are also plentiful. i found you. i always felt your droopy eyes on me in dhall, theyre black and don’t match the rest of your face. but i liked them and now i know who you are and i probably won’t stop eyefucking you around campus until i find you out at a lodge, or an apartment party, or an iclub social and thrust myself upon you and fulfill what once was only accomplished with my eyes and realize that you’re just like every other skinny wierd looking inked up college kid and actually pretty unsatisfying in bed. then my vagina will itch for months and ill get wierd periods because even though i despised it i still put up with your mediocre penis invading my vagina (thats too much i only despised it sometimes). anyway im still pretty thrilled that you actually have an identity, for now at least, until i abolish that that is..but no i dont want to ruin this you’re probably brilliant and exciting and everything i need and know just the way to please me and i’m so excited about thisyou little fictitious book character that i invented based off our eye intercourse, your strange skin, and your facebook page. we will be beautiful together but that probably won’t happen if we actually talk or touch each other in any normal situation. please please please touch me!
pause
had to jog my memory again of you with one of your photo albums. that’s right we see each other at the gym too and we’re never on the same machines but i always look at you and am consistently surprised by how much you work out which is good in case we are in this wonderful relationship together and instead of making daily trips to wawa to eat candy and drunk food we’ll be going to the gym andill be jealous because you’re faster and more muscular than me but i won’t care because i get to touch those muscles (though small) whenever i want. you and your friends all look the same though which is kind of stupid, i can’t date people who has clones and talks the same as all their friends thats way too much and a little self-glorifying don’t you think? Please, buy new jeans or something
and of course you’re friends with kelly because we all know that everyone whos the least bit conscious of the world and embraces an alternative lifestyle must be friends with this girl who wears berets and has a plasticy complexion.
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misanthrope
-”Quechua Indians from rival communities fist fight as part of the Thinku festival rituals in Macha, Bolivia, Monday, May 4, 2009. When the dry season begins, Quechua Indians from the poorest, northern Bolivian province stop working in the fields and celebrate the Thinku, a week-long series of ritual fights, meetings and religious celebrations. The blood from the ritual fighters is offered to Mother Earth in a symbolic call to fertilize their arid lands. (AP Photo/Dado Galdieri)”
-nargis
-newlyweds
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declassified
mexican suitcase:http://www.nytimes.com/2009/04/30/arts/design/30capa.html
LA public arthttp://www.nytimes.com/2009/05/03/arts/design/03fink.html
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two pubes
richard tuttle
“Art, however excellent, will always be simply another manifestation of the Maya, of the deception that is everything. And the truth we seek will never be found in a picture; it will only appear behind the last door that the viewer succeeds in opening by his own efforts…For art is like a game and only by becoming very innocent–and perhaps this is true of all human activities–shall we grasp the profound meaning that it possesses.”
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paper people
reka reisinger
our lady of guadalupe
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sierra alert
http://www.bombsite.com/issues/86/articles/2606
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