Thalia (in ancient Greek Θάλεια / Tháleia or Θάλια / Thália, "the joyous, the flourishing", from θάλλειν / thállein, to flourish, to be verdant) was the muse who presided over comedy and idyllic poetry. She was the daughter of Zeus and Mnemosyne, the eighth-born of the nine Muses. She was portrayed as a young woman with a joyous air, crowned with ivy, wearing boots and holding a comic mask in her hand.
Friday, April 29, 2011
Ideas April 29th
New Film or Book- Grotesque Neutrality
New Essay- George Condo:Synthisized
Anomie-
New Statement- I am an actor.
Notes on Self Storage: Build tension around tiny moments, mounting issues, a collection of unwanted situations, allow the smallest gestures to be the most reveling.
On Easter I saw Bernie Glassman and the Zen Peacemakers.
http://www.zenpeacemakers.org/about_zen_peacemakers/bios/bernie_bio.php
For work I would like to wear a pair of shinny black sneakers, high-tops. Maybs Kris Van Assche?
New Essay- George Condo:Synthisized
Anomie-
a state or condition of individuals or society characterized by a breakdown or absence of social norms and values, as in the case of uprooted people.
Notes on Self Storage: Build tension around tiny moments, mounting issues, a collection of unwanted situations, allow the smallest gestures to be the most reveling.
On Easter I saw Bernie Glassman and the Zen Peacemakers.
http://www.zenpeacemakers.org/about_zen_peacemakers/bios/bernie_bio.php
For work I would like to wear a pair of shinny black sneakers, high-tops. Maybs Kris Van Assche?
Thursday, April 28, 2011
Tuesday, April 26, 2011
new album from Juicy LaLa
new album
'eat my heart out'
tracks
1. mango madness
Wow! Holy shit and holy cow! Zing. I've got that madness in me. It's full, bitter and cool.
I've got that tasty mango on my tongue dear. I can feel it rolling right on down my throat. And you, you are the sexy one dear. And I could hold you for forever in the space we make together.
Wow, mango madness, try it, its the new brand, fuck yeah, mango madness, can anyone even comprehend? She says- you can't get this kind of love inside a jar. Yet I buy three cans of oysters and kombucha mango madness, shit, that shit is good. Eat oysters with my hands and lift my face up at the wind, wonder how I could ever live without your love again. Shit yeah! Got mango madness. Hell yeah, hell yeah, hell yeah.
2. conch shell blues
mix birds, dj
You lost my love in the back of your throat, when you chose to never love me really but use me for yourself, I was just a masturbation, a childhood toy for a daemon-witch, vampire-bitch, she is the one who will never be touched, can't be free, 'touch this language, touch this verb, touch my laughter but never me, touch the dreams we weave together, Ethiopian platter of food, scoop it up with your hand to your mouth, but not me. You are the producer, and I the director, the rest is just a fantasy. I use you like everyone, don't worry it will hurt, but that is love right? Connection? No good or bad, just power and seduction?' I've got the conch shell blues, those good old fashioned conch shell blues, because your showing me your vagina, and your flashing me your tits, then you show me your ass, its like your always in control, slip it in me why don't you girl, and I'll give you that money for a little of your time, real needs, needing to be touched, I'll trade you what I really need and give you myself to be consumed as inferior and other words you use as weapons to kill anyone who ever loved you. Oh, I've got the conch shell blues, those Monday/Tuesday conch shell blues, I've got the rag-tag, turned-over and tossed-out conch shell blues. The shells sat in her apartment on the Upper West side, like a shinning invitation, Scorpion sensation. Who owns who at the end of the day, I own me and you own you and we own each other, so look what you've made, a mess out of love because you couldn't make it, no you never could ever make it girl, with me.
'eat my heart out'
tracks
1. mango madness
Wow! Holy shit and holy cow! Zing. I've got that madness in me. It's full, bitter and cool.
I've got that tasty mango on my tongue dear. I can feel it rolling right on down my throat. And you, you are the sexy one dear. And I could hold you for forever in the space we make together.
Wow, mango madness, try it, its the new brand, fuck yeah, mango madness, can anyone even comprehend? She says- you can't get this kind of love inside a jar. Yet I buy three cans of oysters and kombucha mango madness, shit, that shit is good. Eat oysters with my hands and lift my face up at the wind, wonder how I could ever live without your love again. Shit yeah! Got mango madness. Hell yeah, hell yeah, hell yeah.
2. conch shell blues
mix birds, dj
You lost my love in the back of your throat, when you chose to never love me really but use me for yourself, I was just a masturbation, a childhood toy for a daemon-witch, vampire-bitch, she is the one who will never be touched, can't be free, 'touch this language, touch this verb, touch my laughter but never me, touch the dreams we weave together, Ethiopian platter of food, scoop it up with your hand to your mouth, but not me. You are the producer, and I the director, the rest is just a fantasy. I use you like everyone, don't worry it will hurt, but that is love right? Connection? No good or bad, just power and seduction?' I've got the conch shell blues, those good old fashioned conch shell blues, because your showing me your vagina, and your flashing me your tits, then you show me your ass, its like your always in control, slip it in me why don't you girl, and I'll give you that money for a little of your time, real needs, needing to be touched, I'll trade you what I really need and give you myself to be consumed as inferior and other words you use as weapons to kill anyone who ever loved you. Oh, I've got the conch shell blues, those Monday/Tuesday conch shell blues, I've got the rag-tag, turned-over and tossed-out conch shell blues. The shells sat in her apartment on the Upper West side, like a shinning invitation, Scorpion sensation. Who owns who at the end of the day, I own me and you own you and we own each other, so look what you've made, a mess out of love because you couldn't make it, no you never could ever make it girl, with me.
visitors to the museum
Some interesting people that I have talked with at the New Museum
David Dunkan
http://rhizome.org/editorial/2010/apr/29/performing-participation/
co-curator of 'Films by Robert Morris' at Hunter College/Times Square Gallery
http://www.artinamericamagazine.com/reviews/roger-ballen/
Chris Frederiksen, collector, great person, works for 2020 Group USA
David Dunkan
http://rhizome.org/editorial/2010/apr/29/performing-participation/
co-curator of 'Films by Robert Morris' at Hunter College/Times Square Gallery
http://www.artinamericamagazine.com/reviews/roger-ballen/
Chris Frederiksen, collector, great person, works for 2020 Group USA
something stirs on April 26th 2011
'The Dullness of Wealth' a novel
George Bataille
http://supervert.com/elibrary/georges_bataille/
Sidney Lumet dies at age 86 on April 6, 2011
http://www.telegraph.co.uk/news/obituaries/culture-obituaries/film-obituaries/8440445/Sidney-Lumet.html
Multimedia theater Punchdrunk
http://www.sleepnomorenyc.com/news.htm
George Bataille
http://supervert.com/elibrary/georges_bataille/
Sidney Lumet dies at age 86 on April 6, 2011
http://www.telegraph.co.uk/news/obituaries/culture-obituaries/film-obituaries/8440445/Sidney-Lumet.html
Multimedia theater Punchdrunk
http://www.sleepnomorenyc.com/news.htm
Tuesday, April 12, 2011
Monday, April 11, 2011
Thursday, April 7, 2011
Tuesday, April 5, 2011
Friday, April 1, 2011
Company Names
Company Names:
The Questionable Gallery
Dream Operator
Essential Performance Now!
Dog and Wolf
Forest of Hours
Wildly Transgressive
Deciding on a name is like getting a tattoo, I want something that talks about Bataille's formless forms, or Artaud's theater of cruelty, describing works that are so advanced in their vision that they seem focused, complete, determined and fresh but are questioned and open to the instablity of creation and critique.
The base of performance is catharsis, the title needs to punch the potential audience in the face that they will find something truthful at the end of their experience.
The Questionable Gallery
Dream Operator
Essential Performance Now!
Dog and Wolf
Forest of Hours
Wildly Transgressive
Deciding on a name is like getting a tattoo, I want something that talks about Bataille's formless forms, or Artaud's theater of cruelty, describing works that are so advanced in their vision that they seem focused, complete, determined and fresh but are questioned and open to the instablity of creation and critique.
The base of performance is catharsis, the title needs to punch the potential audience in the face that they will find something truthful at the end of their experience.
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