Wednesday, May 20, 2009

oh, hey chicago

thanks s.n.

the following images were some of my favorites 
from the SAIC grad show i went to last friday.


guess i'm screwed then.

all tiny sugar cubes. 
hey bjork.

shout out from kevin van awesome.

done with ink.

john jines. loved it.


l o v e d    t h i s !

tears were collected from the eyes of each animal in the container on
the floor. 


Thursday, May 14, 2009

s n

we meet 
we greet 
we party.


Tuesday, May 12, 2009

please make me things

brain + hands + tiny things + mass hang out + beautiful aly 

d a n i e l    e v e r e t t
text me.

m i s a k o   i n a o k a
text me twice.

c a s e y   j e x   s m i t h
sir, you are everywhere.

j o h n   c a s e y
do you know eric spalding? did you see his head self portrait
a bunch of years ago?

dear  h a n k   w i l l i a m s   t h o m a s,
sometimes, a slight cross breeze at caryolyn's old apartment
in harlem still feels like this.
please ship all clothes in this photograph to lettuce smith and 
baby gabbie barnes immediately.


e t h a n   w o r d e n
dated it.

r e n e e   a d a m s
you must have been with me at the free library in philly
during tour season 2008. thanks dad.

Wednesday, May 6, 2009

everything is everywhere

the ground hides the stars,
and the floors of every ocean.

Tristes apprêts,
pâles flambeaux,
Jour plus affreux que les ténèbres,
Astres lugubres des tombeaux,
Non je ne verrai plus que vos clartés funèbres.
Toi, qui vois mon coeur éperdu,
Père du jour, ô Soleil, ô mon père!
Je ne veux plus d'un bien que Castor a perdu,
Et je renonce à la lumière

; i've listened to this 1,000,000 times this week.

so the hours should be instructed by the ages,
and the ages explained by the hours.

r. w. e.

Monday, May 4, 2009

the sea was searched,
the land was found,
and all the while,
you slept,
and forgot me.

Friday, May 1, 2009

marked tracks,
the earth surrounds her
the green fog is near

blindly stuck,
her lids take flight
the green fog is near

sea sick arrest,
palms tremble and flood
the green fog is near

and i forgot the way she stayed up at night
and i forgot her voice by light
and i regret the morning aches
loose bones,
cold tide,
ship brakes

she laid
held tight to table ends and eager birds-
the poem that dies inside me

i awake without her
climbing still
feet yelling at the grass
to never forget
the view.
it receives.

look up child,
and never below
the green fog is near