Well something new here, late night mildly drunken blogging. Thank all gods in advance for spell check. I was sitting in the window reading and, as usually happens, I put down the book and picked up my lap to cruise my ever changing sites. I’m sure somewhere across the street somebody is looking at me bathed in the LCD glow and wondering what I am looking at, or reading, maybe what porn I am watching. Now I wish I could see them too because I want to know what they are doing and I can’t even see them. And I wonder if they have better porn than me too.
Before I started this I was just beginning a new book, ‘The Lotus Eaters’ by Tatjana Soli. It’s the story of a woman combat photographer in Vietnam and one of those books that begins at the end of the story and than travels back to the beginning. Just a few pages into the book, as she wanders the deserted streets of Saigon before the fall, is one of those lines that grabs you and wont let go. “If one was rich and powerful, one was already gone. Only the losers of history remained.” God that line, ok lines, has to be a metaphor for so many things but at the moment I have no clue what it would be. I just hope that the rest of the book lives up to those lines.
Funny she is a photographer too because I was thinking about that before I even picked up the book. I have been so into my photography lately, to the total detriment of the rest of my art. My brushes, pencils, and paints stacked forlornly in a corner of my bedroom like once used props waiting for another idea. I’m not sure I’m totally thrilled with this turn of events but it is what it is and I haven’t really painted since I finished ‘Gurl Parts’ almost a year ago. I used to live to lock myself away for days drinking, smoking, painting, and little else. I miss the smell of the paints, the feel of the brush in my hand, the tired but ecstatic feeling I get when I finish a painting I like. I just feels like I’m in the grips of instant gratification art but I have no idea what to do about it.
And one final semi drunken thought. A Corona without a lime is like sex without an orgasm. It just shouldn’t happen. And a question, is Anderson Cooper ever at home in the Village? I know I'm gay but damn!
Sonic Syndicate - My Own life