I’ve been trying to put my life in perspective recently; it is a time of big change, and thus self-reflection.

photo 1

I was in high school when I first started to think of myself as an artist.  I grew up in Denver, and the city was quite strange and violent in the late 1980’s and early 1990’s.  There was lots of gang violence, and I got involved in a very dark, underground, industrial art movement.  Even back then, I started to embrace this idea of artist as outlaw (as Sylvia Plath once wrote, The gifted are misfits).


When I went to college, I got really interested in the early 20th century avant guarde, everything from Joyce to Dada to the writers on the Left Bank.

photo 4 (1)

I liked Gertrude Stein, and the voice she gives to the sexual or gender outlaw:

Sweet sweet sweet sweet sweet tea.
Susie Asado.
Sweet sweet sweet sweet sweet tea.
Susie Asado.
A lean on the shoe this means slips slips her.
When the ancient light grey is clean it is yellow, it is a silver seller.
This is a please this is a please there are saids to jelly.  These are the wets these
say the sets to leave a crown to Incy.
Incy is short for incubus.
A pot.  A pot is a beginning to a rare bit of trees.  Trees tremble, the old vats are in
bobbles, bobbles which shave and shove and render clean, render clean must.
Drink pups.
Drink pups drink pups lease a sash hold, see it shine and a bobolink has pins.  It shows
a nail.
What is a nail.  A nail is a unison.
Sweet sweet sweet sweet sweet tea.

photo 4

I ended up going to Bali, Indonesia the first time because I wanted to find new models for the arts, and was fascinated by the acknowledgement and blending of both light and dark forces.

photo 3

In some ways, I think I still consider myself an outlaw.  I still like what Hugo Ball wrote so many years ago, Introduce symmetries and rhythms instead of principals.  Contradict the existing world orders.


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