I’m the King of Jubilee Jumbles

artist Nayland Blake natters on about art and other things

Archive for March 2009

Are you trying to tell me something?

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Maybe it’s just me, and years of living on the sexual margins have made me all to ready to see hints and innuendo every where I look, but even from my warped perspective, I have to ask what exact message is this woman trying to send with her canvas tote with the shackles and noose on the side?

She was coolly reading the New Yorker from when she got on at Seventh Avenue til when she got off at 34th Street, in an outfit that had no other hints of kinkiness. Is the image an invitation to bondage or an expression of freedom from it? Some random importation of violent motifs onto the side of canvas totes as part of a fashion statement? I’ll never know.

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March 31, 2009 at 12:46 pm

Animal planet…

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I went looking for action on Saturday night and I got it in the wilds of New Jersey. I had much fun and the results were nothing as a traumatic as this (courtesy of ). My accent remains intact.

While researching this entry this story came up, which leads me to think that despite decades of ursine identification on my part, truth be told, it’s time for me to come out at a wombat.

An A-List one.

And now I can start telling all of you who is and isn’t a real one.

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March 30, 2009 at 10:12 am

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Horns in Midtown

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March 29, 2009 at 10:18 am

Sausage fest…

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Unrelated thought: I’ve had it with the wacky auto insurance selling woman.

And now I’m going to get some action, hopefully.

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March 28, 2009 at 5:41 pm

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Yum…

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A day of reviving old projects and looking at some art. Spent this evening with Sarah Schulman at the reading of Caryl Churchill’s latest play, a compressed provocation on the topic of Israel. The format: ten minutes of play, one hour of moderated discussion, ten minutes of the play reread. From the audience, Mandy Patankin told us how he would “attack” the material. The moderator stuck his oar in a bit too much much I thought. Sarah was unimpressed. After wards, over sushi we traded stories of our religious experience and (lack of) belief. The unagi was excellent. Sarah told me the place is cult run.

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March 27, 2009 at 7:34 am

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Play Misty…

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It’s cold and foggy here. It doesn’t feel like spring, but rather the downward creep of fall. I’ve been playing catch up with some responsibilities, and reliving some of the high points of IMsL through other people’s recaps.

I’ve been looking for my copy of “Watchmen” around my house for months and have been unable to find it. So I bought another one in the SF airport to read on the way home. Getting through it made me even less interested in seeing the movie. For one thing, it’s not at all an action story: violent things happen, but the guts of it all is reflection, memory and discussion. The narrative moves forward very slightly compared to how much it moves backwards or sideways and it’s not propelled by people doing superhero type things. When I try to think of the directors who could do it justice I think of Tarkovsky or maybe War Wong Kai. If Fassbinder wasn’t dead he could do a great version, with everyone sitting around some broken down warehouse some where.

In other pop culture news, last night’s South Park was one of their tortured analogy episodes, where a goofy incident is made to stand in for a social issue. I laughed harder at a picture of a jar in The Onion with the caption “Heroic Pickles Holding Lid Shut From Inside”.

Speaking of beloved book adaptations, on Tuesday night TCM showed “The Phantom TollBooth”, Chuck Jones’ take on one of my favorite books from my childhood. I’ve seen it before but really forgotten how dreary it was. The backgrounds are mainly recycled from “What’s Opera Doc” and the character design is shabby. Jules Pfeiffer did a great job illustrating the book, but Jones utterly jettisoned his line and balance for the movie. The songs are lackluster and forgettable, and the end is a rushed knockoff of the “All Too Much” sequence from “Yellow Submarine”.

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March 26, 2009 at 3:58 pm

Wipe and Wipe again….

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Now that I’m wearing my glasses more often, I’m sticking them in my pockets more, which means that they are getting more and more smudged. It’s an irritating habit that I can’t really break myself of, and it means I’m wiping my lenses all the time it seems.

I remember how felt when I got the first “floaters” in my eyes: I was 34 and in New York, and it freaked me out. Now I have the same thing happening when I put my glasses on: flecks of something floating in my field of vision.

Except there is no medical explanation for schmutz. I’m just untidy.

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March 25, 2009 at 12:38 pm

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