skip to main |
skip to sidebar
Today is/has been a rearranging day at the chateau d'RTP. I was looking at my bare walls. I have a few personal pictures and 3 Mucha prints from a set of 4.
I'm missing the one on the right, which, I believe, represents the evening time. I start looking for things to liven up the place. I'll start with pictures today, and maybe get more plants tomorrow. Spring is here, and it's time to blow the stink off. I started flipping through the handful of images that I had stuffed into my luggage. It was full of old self portraits and a few framed tidbits. Then, I stumbled across one of my favorite shots of two of my favorite comedians...
Legend has it that whenMichael Jackson met the two of them, he asked if they were brothers. That makes me think of that old conversation-starting question about your dream dinner party. Michael Jackson, Andy Warhol, and Alfred Hitchcock have to be 3 of the top five. KJP was telling me about the Warhol show at the MCA. I've actually seen a Marilyn silkscreen at a gallery here in Prague. I love Warhol, but Mostly because I think his jokes are hilarious. Looking for Warhol shots led me to this image of Beuys, then, it was all coyotes in the city for me.
Do yourself a favor, and read up on Beuys. I don't want to do him the disservice of summarizing here. He first blew my mind whaen I was a nerdo 17 year-old who would ride the South Shore into Chicago and sit all-day in the Abstract Expressionist wing of the Art institute. They had a speacial exhibit of his work, and I kept coming back to one piece. He hated AMerica, and refused to come here on anyone's terms, but his own. He arrived wrapped in felt and was carried to a small room, where he was locked in with a coyote, only to be carried out in the selfsame felt. So much to be said about felt, lard, coyotes, and American City Life. He's my fourth guest for dinner, even if he is a fucking Nazi. Now, in thinking of representations resonant with my own reality, I'm thinking of Acconci.
His work regarding intimacy, depersonalization, and invasions of the two really hit a note. Also, he's a funny fucker. Here is his Name-Calling Chair, which I affectionately refer to as the Asschair.
I got to hang out with Vito for a day when he visited the ART school I was attending. His speech that night was absolutely classic. His writings and use of text is breathtakingly perceptive and witty. He talkied mostly about the various architectural scenarios he was involved in at the time. It just thrilled me to watch him parlay of-so-smoothly with all the blubbering professors that could not stomach his talk of the death of the ART space. He was dead-up Proletariat, as if to shake away the coyotes tugging at his blanket.
I took a break from my new self-help book and started re-reading Voltaire last night. Here is how he looked to me...
Where to now? I could delve further into the vulgar lifeblood of city living, rattling off on the people living in the train station, but the sun is shining. They filmed some scenes from the new James Bond flick here a few months ago.
Supposedly, Praha is doubling for Miami. Palm trees and beaches remind me that KJP is on her way. I can't wait until she's here to sooth my worried mind. She's such a princess to me.
I would go to church more often if this guy was gonna show up, too... You nin-com-fucking-poop!
People should listen to more Jimmy Scott.
Jimmy Scott breaks my heart every time. I first heard him on a Twin Peaks soundtrack.
The woman two tables away is eating her chicken sandwich so noisily that it's making me sick to my stomach. She's talking about upcoming short film festivals in Prague, so I want to hear it, but she punctuates each thought with a messy smack.
How big of a nerd am I because I want all these?
Well Kiddies, my digicam is on the fritz, so expect slightly more regular updating on this, my original sanctum sanctorum. I can't post long today, as I've got to work. I'm getting excited, because KJP will be here in a few short weeks, and she's staying for good. Nothing makes me happier than that.
What else? Bob Marley died today. He was treated at the same cancer research center as my Mom; Sloan-Kettering. KJP and I went to Jamaica awhile back, and we were saturated with every single possible variation on Three Little Birds that you could imagine. They even dropped it elevator muzak steez... geez louise.
I'll bet this badass was the product of some really hot Bear-on-Bear. I wonder where Timothy Treadwell was for that one.
My favorite Baristo, Tomas, just asked me what the status of Puerto Rico is in relation to the US. He thought it was a territory. I thought it was a commonwealth. It's a territory with commonwealth status. Now you know...
Check out Aster Erebros' blog. It's chock full of his musings that, at first glance and ostensibly, skirt the mundane while avoiding any and all banality.
Stephen Colbert improves upon our wildest dreams...
I've been focusing the bulk of my blog time on the RTPrague site. I forgot my camera today, so I'll spit a little chum into the water for the faithful.I was riding on the tram, watching people. We pulled up to the stop at Lipanska, and a man sitting near me motioned out the window to someone standing at the stop. "Get on the tram" he signalled. I looked out to the stop, and a man with an umbrella signalled back, "No, you get off of the tram." The man on the tram, with two fingers, clearly stated, "Get on the tram if you want to talk to me, because I'm not getting off of the tram." Umbrella man was having none of that. "Get off the tram," also with two fingers. The doors closed, and the man on the tram shrugged. "Alright..." As the tram pulled away towards Husinecka, the umbrella rubbed his fingers together with his thumb. Clearly, "Where's my money, fucker?" The man on the tram just stared at his empty hands. The next stop was mine.For what do you use your nose? I've been covering lots of lessons for one of the other teachers at Prague Institute this week. It's a little difficult to keep track of where everyone is in their individual curriculae. I had a 2 hour long beginner lesson at the Pesticide Research company on the north side. I threw together a few little exercises. Those in combination with my usual bag of tricks should have easily been enough to pad out 2 hours worth of teaching in addition to their books... excepting that I brought the wrong books. 8 students for 2 hours basically off the top of my dome, and I succeeded with flying colors. One of the students told me that I was the most good teacher. So, I'm feeling cocky. The same student also told me what her nose is used for:feeling air.I've got to eat before my next lesson, but keep checking back. I cancelled my MySpace account, because I was totally wasting my time with it and neglecting my loyal readers.
I've been spending the bulk of my ever-diminishing time on-line re-connecting with the long-lost on myspace. I remember hearing, as a youth, that, should you lose touch and want to reunite with somebody, you need just go to Times Square and wait. It turns out that myspace is easier.
Not to say that I don't love the Fussy Records Faithful.
Today, My head has been swimming. Top of the list? Orangutans...
I heard a zoologist describe some primary differences between some of the more popular varieties of Apes and Monkeys by illustrating their reactions to the presence of an unexplained screwdriver in their individual enclosures. Chimps will immediately use it for anything and everything but its intended purpose. Gorillas will be afraid of it for a bit, then forget it ever existed. Orangutans will discreetly hide it, then disassemble its cage when noone is looking.
I also recall hearing about one troublesome Orangutan that continually escaped from its enclosure. They would move this ape into a small enclosed area while cleaning its main cage. The holding area had one of those ubiquitous zoo doors that slide up and down. After the Orangutan had escaped a few times, they decided to videotape him in the holding area (He wouldn't ever make a move if anyone was around). The ape would reach over the very top of the door through a narrow vent. Using a piece of cardboard that he had secreted for this purpose, he would tap the key on the opposite side of the door, rotating it, so he could just push it out from his side with a thin twig.
It's been said disparagingly that humans are descended from monkeys. I say its either chimps or gorillas, because I don't detect too much Orangutan stock in my day-to-day.
Plus... Orangutan babies are so fucking cute.
