In an effort to look more prolific in regards to writing, I’m going back into this thing.
I’ve got an art show to look forward to at a warehouse in west Philly. I submitted pictures of paintings in progress, some sculpture works, and some sketches which I posited ‘could be turned into paintings of any scale’. Well, no bites.
The curators much to my pleasure asked that we show my CV. They thought it was really funny. What’s more they like my writing, and when I put it to them, they said they like the bitchier stuff; and I’m painting with a broad brush here, but I felt understood. So I’ll be a part of a visual art show as a writer, and have got to think up how to write for it, or how to display writing, or whatever.
I’ve taken a practice of non-possession even of thought- that an idea worth doing is either going to get done or is worth showing in its intermediate stages, or shared in words. So, what I’m thinking for the show is a book. A little book. That’s all I can share for now (so much for transparency), because I have a few amorphous ideas floating around up in there. So I’m writing a little bit up to the date, that I taper up, that I wax self-aware.
