Paving the road to hell since 1989.
A student asked me today what I was whistling and I realized it was “Dirty Back Roads” by the B-52s. As I was looking for it on YouTube I found this—one of my favorite songs ever. I first heard it at art camp in the summer after 8th grade. In 1980, at 13, how can you not be in love with this woman and this music?
Eileen Wold took these courageous pictures of me in my natural habitat. Thanks, Eileen. This is part of the Axis Alley exhibit, and will evolve through April.
Bart looking extremely cool.
Last Sunday was the official opening of the Axis Alley show and my installation. The week of rain stopped just in time and a lot of people were out in the alley, strolling, talking, and swinging on the tire swing.
I’m unsatisfied with this piece so far, but since the exhibition is officially up until April, I’m treating this as an open-air laboratory for me to try things out and make some adjustments.
This is one side of the tire swing that goes up in the alley this weekend. Guess the words on the other side and I’ll personally spin you on the swing on Sunday.
Also shown are the cool pink shoes my sweetheart bought me. Mmmmmm hmm.
Here’s a partial list of what I’m bringing to Baltimore tomorrow:
ratchet set, ladder, plastic Santa sleigh, half of a pink plastic pet carrier, Mylar, Tyvek, drywall screws, contact cement, mattress springs, a mental image of Alan Shepard plucked from the Pacific
and assembly instructions:
I made a lot of progress in the alley today and met some of my co-exhibitors. I have a cloud of accumulated plastic junk, hung precariously on a cable between the house and a stoic tree. More photos on Flickr.
I found out that my particular site had been shelter for some folks, and they were (cinder)blocked out because of this show. I don’t think that’s bad, necessarily—they were doing drugs in an abandoned building and using the lot next door as an open-air toilet, in an alley a block away from an elementary school. But it does make me think in a new way about what I’m doing.
I used to make art like this because it was my neighborhood. Now I drive for 45 minutes into the inner city to make art from trash, then drive back and clean my own house with a designer vacuum cleaner. Why am I putting this effort and money into creating art and not into building homes for people who have none?
This is standard stuff, really: Does art have any real value? Is it an ethical pursuit while people lack food and shelter? I don’t mind being conflicted, because I haven’t asked myself these questions in a while. Maybe I’ll stumble over the answer out in the alley.
I spent a few hours today moving junk around, clearing away razor wire, and starting to build with things I’ve found for the Axis Alley exhibition in Baltimore. Right now it’s three busted TVs, some childrens’ toys, milk and antifreeze jugs, and PVC pipe; a humble beginning, but it’s really started coming together in my head. I’ll make big strides this weekend, as long as the city doesn’t haul it all away. (And why should they start now?)
Didn’t see any rats today, but the mosquitos were as big as rats.
The photography of I…Z. (I-to-tha-Z?):
Breves inserções diarias na urbanosfera caótica.
Google Translate was NO help at all. My best guess is “Brief Daily Insertions in Urban Chaos,” but I’m sure that’s wide of the mark, at least poetically. Whatever the urbanosfera is, it’s a sweet, sad, and familiar place.
Photo by I...Z. Click for Flickr photostream.
Photo by William Claxton, 1960
Today is one of my favorite days of the year:
WKCR’s annual John Coltrane birthday broadcast.
Yesterday I e-mailed around asking for an old tire, and today I have three. Thanks, Jim and Jim, as well as to the rest of you who sent advice and good wishes. Doesn’t it feel good when that thing you’ve been saving in the back of the shed is finally put to good use?
The tire(s) will go into this show in mid-October. More soon.
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