"A photograph is a secret about a secret. The more it tells you, the less you know." - Diane Arbus


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Today I'll be sitting at a little table at the Stevens Square Center for the Arts Third Annual Zinefest with multiple copies of my three sweet zines. I've spent weeks clearing paper jams and collating, so if you could stop by and say hey, I would feel less like a lamer. It's at the corner of 3rd Avenue south and 19th Street, above the Third ( Read more... )

I should not be cruel,
but the music is so loud.

i forgot to mention that erin also got me a friendship ring with "i feel so all alone" printed on it. which is appropriate right now because i am wrapped in a hangover blanket & it just started snowing & i yelled "it's snowing!" in an excited voice & no one answered me in any way. this is a new year.

Winter completes an age ( Read more... )

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i thought the embarrassingly tender descriptions of sex were bad, and then i got to the graphic description of seppuku.

may i please ask to be excused?

i am caught in one of Richard Hamilton's early pop art collages--sitting here in a Hong Kong sweatshirt with meaningless words on it, green pumas, drinking vanilla diet coke and eating goddamn corn pops. corn pops are essentially pop art--they're an unnatural shade of yellow, sickeningly sweet, and covered in some plastic-like glaze that makes ( Read more... )

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it's always bothered me that in 'winter wonderland', they respond to a hypothetical question from parson brown with "no, man." that just always seemed like a rudely cavalier way to address a man of the cloth. blame my puritan upbringing, i guess.

also, the song 'santa baby' really creeps me out.