I’m the King of Jubilee Jumbles

artist Nayland Blake natters on about art and other things

Archive for April 2004

Woke up Sure of one thing…

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Kate Hudson


Like the world needed Goldie Hawn Lite

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April 30, 2004 at 9:01 am

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It’s not all horrible!

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Anyone reading my journal lately would think that I’m crouched in my house in a crippling funk but it ain’t true! here’s a list of some of the stuff I’ve been doing the past couple of weeks:

Friday, 4/16 Went to the opening of Open House, a show I’m in at the Brooklyn Museum, with thornyc. Afterwards cracked a tooth on rye bread at Sammy’s Rumanian.
Sunday, 4/18 Played poker with thornyc, badfaggot and chrisglass among others. Afterwards made the beast with two backs with two men, neither of whom are on Live Journal
Monday, 4/19 attended a reading by Samuel R. Delany at the CUNY grad center. Afterwards ate tacos and bought comics with thornyc and badfaggot.
Wednesday, 4/21 Saw “Assassins” with thornyc. Afterwards went to the Eagle where we saw badfaggot and bootjac.
Thursday, 4/22 Participated in Blog Night organized by badfaggot where, by definition, there were many other LJers. Afterwards went to Sammy’s noodle shop for chinese food with thornyc, badfaggot and lthredge.
Friday, 4/23 badfaggot came over and helped me sort through old books and magazines. We found my copy of “Powerplay” that included thornyc‘s article on cigar play.
Sunday, 4/25 bootjac graciously agreed to tale me to Ikea, where they didn’t have the shelves I wanted. Afterwards I went to the benefit sale for The Sculpture Center, where a glass of dry red made me tipsy.
Monday, 4/26 thornyc came with me to see final_girl read brilliantly in a bar on the lower east side. Afterwards we had enchiladas and shared an umbrella
Wednesday, 4/28 I went to Fred Wilson’s opening at the Studio Museum of Harlem, where I saw no one from LJ, but received an astonishingly nice compliment from a young artist and got invited to a sunday brunch with Kiki Smith. Afterwards I rode the 2 home, got vegetarian food from the Ital Shack (too salty as it turned out) and laughed aloud at the latest episode of South Park.

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April 29, 2004 at 10:43 am

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To all my fellow academics:

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(and I know there’s quite a few of you on my friends list”)

Are you all as desperate for the end of the semester as I am? and how many days do you have left?

For me, it’s two more weeks of teaching, and student stress.

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April 29, 2004 at 10:29 am

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Protected: Addicted to Armor…

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April 28, 2004 at 3:15 pm

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Peering through a pince-nez…

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Back in the office after a trip to the eye doctor, I’m so dilated I could give birth through my pupils. All print closer than four feet is a blur, so I’ve whipped out the old nose pinchers I purchased at a flea market in Warsaw and now squint through them at the screen.
It’s been at least ten years since my last eye exam, so I was expecting the news that I would need a whole new perscription. I’ve noticed that in the morning and evening it’s tough to bring print into focus, and that I’ve given up on the lyric sheets in cds lately. But shockingly enough I was told that my old glasses are fine, if I would just wear them dammit, and that if i needed anything different the best thing would be a pair of magnifiers from the drug store. Now where’s the glamor in that? When I hinted that I was thinking about getting new frames, Doctor Coen, reluctantly wrote out a ‘scrip, making me feel like I was one of those shirkers whining about my pain to mooch Vicodin.
There is much more to tell about this past weekend and its doings, but little time to tell it in.

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April 28, 2004 at 1:02 pm

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Wretched –

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A day at work where every little thing is unraveling – accepted students are declining, dates are getting changed and then are still problematic, no-none is home to answer phone calls. Quicksand. I think I need to go out and stroll around topside.

A couple of weeks ago I would have dealt with this with a big piece of cake of some kind.

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April 22, 2004 at 3:18 pm

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Everybody’s got a right to their dreams…

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Because I’m a gay man, and because I live in New York, and mostly because another gay man is off getting bonked in Berlin, I spent last night attending Stephen Sondheim’s Assassins. Envy me, out of town Broadway Queens!
I have to say I shudder for the prospects of this show, given the state of the country. The production is in Studio 54 which was last home to the revival of Cabaret. The two shows share a lot, including a review like structure, a menacing Master of Ceremonies, and limbo like setting that plays off of the weight of external political events. I worry because while Cabaret allows its audience the luxury of tut-tutting about the evil of Nazi Germany, something at a geographic and temporal remove from themselves, Assassins is aggressively about those aspects of the American view of world and self that lead to mania and violence. And that stuff is not at a remove at all. So the audience leaves the theater implicated. Will tourists line up for months to pay 100 dollars a pop for this experience? I’d be surprised.
The production itself is handsome and in many ways designed to try to ameliorate the tensions I described above. How does Mario Cantone do? Fine – I didn’t quite realize it was him until very late in the game. Neil Patrick Harris? not so good in my opinion: a little too blank in his innocence and a little too innocent in his blankness. The rest of the cast performed nimbly. Great set.
Afterwards, on the street, thornyc offered us Beard Papa’s (see danbearnyc‘s journal) cream puffs, which are very, very good. Then he shanghai’ed me to the Eagle, where I got to see bootjac tighten up Thor’s flattop, and I got to feed badfaggot another cream puff and then climbed into the chair to get my not-butch-enough Merrils shined. His being fed technique was a little shaky, but his shine was very, very good. I left my jacket at the bar, and arrived home in time to see one of my fave Cowboy Bebop episodes.

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April 22, 2004 at 10:39 am

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False start….

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In keeping with what I posted two posts ago, here’s the draft for a post that didn’t make it online on Monday

The roar of the oatmeal, the smell of the infused water…

Deposited back at work after a whirlwind weekend.
Went to therapy (hate that word, would much prefer to say “saw my shrink”) – talked about weight, responses to lj posts, epiphany when he used the word “belittling” , saw how the appearance of an emotion, in this case anger, causes me to use increasingly abstract language to talk about myself. Next thing to work on.
Walked to French Roast on Sixth and 11th, had the niciose salad, popping the yolks from the hard-boiled eggs and laying them to the side, drizzling the vinegar out of the ramekin like it was a precious fluid. My current dietary regime leaves me slightly hungry at meal times, the opposite of having something stuck to your ribs. I hate the slightly sanctimonious feeling this gives me.
Off to the gym. Crunch has a bank of TVs mounted above the cardio area, far too many of them, and yet while they are tuned to some different channels they aren’t tuned to all different channels. Somehow this is even more irritating – you have a choice, but it’s not the choice you want to have. (for someone who watches quite a lot of TV, I generally decry its ongoing drive for ubiquity). As per suggestion ten minutes on the stationary bike, gripping the “sensors” so that my heart rate can be displayed, along with the distance I’ve traveled, the calories I’ve burned, the time I’ve spent. I go down to the locker room and change. On the way out I feel slightly gamy.
From the street I call aa_Bronson and head on up to his apartment to visit. There are other people there, and the situation, all of us ranged around the bed encourages AA to hold court in a way that he usually doesn’t but could do more often, I think. Ultimately we have a talk in which some of the themes from the therapy are replayed and rehashed. We both acknowledge that we want to collaborate again, and now we have to figure out how.
Groceries at Gourmet Garage and then home to pull myself together in time to meet thornyc and go to the opening of “Open House” the exhibition at the Brooklyn Museum

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April 21, 2004 at 3:41 pm

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You know I love you better….

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Because it’s been part of the shuffle playlist on my MP3 player for about of month now, I’ve been listening to this a lot, and I’ve come to the conclusion that it’s one of the best albums of the 80’s.
It’s got brilliance, humor and scads of aural pleasure. Made by suburban college kids who don’t rub your nose in how depressed they are and have great record collections. It’s kind of a pastoral, with a dance hit.

It’s De La Soul’s “Three Feet High and Rising”.

Why don’t more folks spend more time talking about the sheer greatness of this record?

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April 21, 2004 at 11:09 am

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Like trying to push a brick through a sieve….

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When all else fails in your attempts to grind your experience into chunks small enough to spit into the format of journal entries, write a short post about the futility of the endeavor.

Oh and add a virtual hello to all your friends online with a preemptive apology that today will probably be one of those “many short posts” days that tends to clutter up everyone’s friends page.

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April 21, 2004 at 9:47 am

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