March 2007 Archives

Women holding on to submerged elephants. Are the animals swimming, or are they actually standing on stilts made of birch trees which were gently tied to their feet? Are there more trees, out there, where tents are set up to capture under water birds, a forest, topped by gently stepping elephants? What is inside of the packages that look as if they escaped from the range of paparazzi cameras, just so they can rest on the ground, near the trees, carrying an elephant. Carrying women. A group of women dressed as if it were time to walk across the frozen Vantaa river, just to pick up some very fragrant fruit now suspended from what is being sold as a sustainable forrest... it looks windy. a west wind. Gentle. Warm. Their animals look focussed. Women growing houses, women crawling into grown houses, with trees which appear to now be more womanmade than the houses grown in the painting right here, to the right. Went to see the Amy Cutler show at Leslie Tonkonow again. It was actually one of the very best things I did in a good while. Looked at the twelve or so pieces in the show for a second time... I like coming back to Amy Cutler's shows. They do get better than seen it for the first time, though can this be called the first time? I think it can be. Perhaps because going back to see the work brought together again makes the experience a bit closer to the process of just seeing it thorough Amy Cutler's eyes. A tiny bit closer? Maybe? It was good to see women cropping clouds out of their breath again. It was good to see the beautiful fabrics on all of the portrayed figures. It was good to see again the very particular way in which Amy draws wood. Her ornate fabrics are rather incredible. Some of the compositions look like elaborately cropped snapshots. And yet the love to detail makes it very clear that not much about this work happened by accident. There are enough layers in the work to make me come back several more times. The show is on at Leslie Tonkonow through April 28th. Just enough time for a few more visits. Oh, and one should definitely go in the morning… my first visit to the show was more of a packed experience... ...hmm... wait a second... this is... oh... What about the memory of bird cages attached to long hair...

drank a glass of memory and ate a bowl of far away, listening now to not so long ago, looking out the window towards what is about to happen. today. oh boy, so much stuff everywhere.

there was happy noise outside of the gate, a large crowd of children was trying to pet the elephants who had arrived in the town square. they were large and patient animals, their trunks gently stroking the hair of those without hats. it was apparently not the first time they were surrounded by so many tiny people. in a dirty doorway on the other side of the square, sitting on old chairs and boxes, we tried to make sense of the spectacle. a friend came by with a piece of meat so large that he attached it to himself with a rope pulled through it and over his shoulder and neck. a part of the raw red lump was still resting on the ground. there were beautiful red textures in the meat, openings, glossy patches of red liquid. "we have been eating on this for more than a week now," he smiled. i just now saw that he was carrying three quarters of an elephant heart. i think i need to water the plants.

the sun came out big time... and just as i was about to cross the street, the street crossed me and surrounded me and we must have looked like one of the special sushi rolls. me being the eel hugging a piece of avocado. not the original tekka maki, more of a strange new invention maki. cars became like pieces of vegetables, i reminded myself that swimming upstream is like sucking on a tea bag. and no, i did not wake up. listened to "in our time" again. my current trip to work takes 45 minutes, just enough to discuss any topic really. new ones every day. i think i will listen to the microbiology podcast for the next few months though. as if each one of the podcasts were in itself a microbe, a device containing some information that will become a piece of the fabric that makes me ... me. apparently only 10% of me is a human me containing the me dna. the rest is a giant munch of microbes, all having a party. (more of an orgy really.) and we only know 1% of any microbes. this thought made me want to lick the metal pole on the train. i often try to hold on to the coldest portion of the metal pole. the one that remembers the temperature of a commuter least. it is sometimes very difficult on a packed train. i will soon be spending more time on trains. i like trains. my family comes from trains. i spend a good amount of time on trains. currently about 8 hours a week. soon about 10, maybe 12? soon i will be able to switch to "this american life" maybe some kind of "this american life in our time." the street and i rolled down the hill. or did the hill roll up? i am looking forward to what is going to happen next. to the good part of it. i have never really lived in a place that had a proper view. if things go well, i might end up with a view i have never dreamt of. or maybe i did... there was this one dream of that box... but that's about 12 years ago. i will need to have a conversation with my microbe assembly about all these images of things and thoughts and the stuff in-between. how does one interrupt a microbe orgy though? does one need to? one probably shall not. amazing how much of everything is powered by the sun.

at least a thing or two are more clear now. and it was very nice to find out. a surprise somehow. very different conversation than the scary ones i used to have in a wood panelled office overlooking the harbor. maybe ten years ago. eleven? the wind was cold on broadway, all the way downtown. wall street looked as if it were ready for the arrival of mongol armies. tank barriers camouflaged as sculptures. flowers in acid filled pits. somewhere on the 12th floor i found out that everything could quite possibly end up being allright. a rather happy morning. perhaps? and it was a very strong "perhaps." i guess? i strongly guess i think. and thus i might end up being. okay.