Meta-house

Here is my recent work on the meta-house.




I was thinking of building a chimney.

I gave up on the glass blocks for the time being, seeing as school starts tomorrow.

Fall.

Fall always comes at just about the point where everyone is completely sick and tired of Summer.


I wish my parents would call me.


(EDIT: My parent's called me.)

nyc

... in that place, as in any place, it is at least as difficult to listen as it is to hear. These two processes are obviously inextricably linked. If you can't hear that shit, you can't listen to that shit. Right? Well, it is very loud here. I am listening very hard, and I am having some difficulty hearing stuff, which I assume everyone does because, as I said, it is very loud. It sounds like this all the time: "shhhhhhhhhshhhhhhshshhhhhhhhssshhhhhhhhhhshhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh..."

Tivoli

What have I been up to these last couple of days? Well... Jaime's blog pretty much covers all of that. I was in Tivoli helping out with Mike Nason's movie about America:

http://jaimeiglehart.blogspot.com/

There was also alot of swimming and naturey kinds of fun that I didn't take pictures of.

a few notes

It is possible that I was naive to walk through Bedstuy at night. It is also possible that my fear was somewhat unfounded. Bedstuy during the day is NOT a scary place. I'm still looking for the scary places. I am interested in what makes a place scary much more than in what makes a place statistically dangerous. I am interested in the disparity between these two things. The unfamiliar is scary. I am sure of this much. Large people that move quickly are scary.

I have one friend in my neighborhood named either Jose or Juan. I am embarassed that I forgot. "My friend," he calls me. I haven't seen him since I quit smoking.
"Papi" is also a regular. Everyone in the neighborhood slips him a dollar here and there... enough for him to fund his absurd drinking habit. He sleeps in front of the liquor store, bumming cash and cigarettes. "Papi" is generally sweet-hearted and friendly, but sometimes gets worked up into a furor. He is extremely difficult to understand in both English and Spanish.

There is certainly resentment from some of my neighbors while others are extremely friendly. Somebody sat next to me on my stoop a few nights ago and bummed a cigarette. He proceeded to describe in detail how "the man across the street" was not afraid to slam anybody with a baseball bat. "Because," he explained, "the kid with shitty diapers over there in the lot, the police lot -- it didn't use to be a police lot --- they want to take the shitty diapers away, but they won't! The shitty diapers will always be there." He also told me how much he looks forward to Thanksgiving when they give out free turkey at the church around the corner. He was either insane, or a brilliant dadaist poet this man. I have a fairly clear idea of the intensity of his feelings about certain subjects (i.e. filth, violence, God, food, generosity).

Two nights before this incident, I was sitting out front smoking a cigarette with my shirt off at 1am, in a pink upholstered chair, legs crossed, making a detailed pen drawing of the buildings across the street when a chubby black teenager (possibly in his early 20's) walked past me briskly and whispered something along the lines of, "you oughtta shave ya nipples."
At that point in time, I could not understand how a stranger could have used the phrases "you oughtta", and "your nipples" in the same sentence. I was sure at the time, in fact, that he had not said these words. About five minutes later he came back and said "I'll suck your dick."
"What?" I asked.
"I said I'll suck your cock," he said.
"You should get out of here," I said.
"Why," he asked earnestly, "you don't want your cock sucked?" It seemed unfathomable to him that I would not. "Do you have a tiny little dick?" he asked me, "is that why?"
This unprofitable exchange went on for a surprising amount of time. In the end, I picked up my pink upholstered chair and went back into my apartment. He was still standing there as I closed the door.

"I'll let you cum in my mouth," he said.





So much of Manhattan is a fucking superstore for tourists and businessmen.

-Drew Hamilton