Marianna wears friendship socks and makes paintings of her her Changa Trips. Changa — a mixture of DMT and edible flowers and plants. She smoked a changa joint and began to see colors and shapes and when she squeezed her eyes shut and moved her hands in front of her eyes, well…Marianna painted what she saw.
Sid Vicious would’ve been 65 today. Try and wrap that around your head.
David Hockney is in his mid-80’s still working. What an inspiration.
When Shawn from Digital Leather asked me about making a video of “Hurts So Bad” I was hesitant. I was hesitant for two reasons: what if I didn’t like the song? Can I actually make a music video? I agreed…but hesitantly. When I heard the song, I decided almost at once I loved it, which wiped away the first fear.
And even now, almost 10 years later, I’ll stand by my music-video-makin’ skills.
Pitchfork liked Warm Brother, too. But not as much as I did.
Over the past few days, I’ve been duplicating all the book listings I have over at the synaesthesia press eBay store to my new, fancy-schmancy online presence here. Have you had a chance to note the price difference between my eBay store and here?
I don’t have a lot of books online, but hey — it’s an adventure that’s sure to expand. From the rate it’s taking me to post — coupled with how many books I’ve managed to accumulate since I dunno when — I’ll probably be doing this until sometime in 2065. That’ll make me 102-ish, depending what month I wrap it all up.
After I wrap, I’m gonna celebrate by getting my ass tattooed. As a hunky sailor or three watch.
I started making creative pictures in earnest a decade (or so) earlier. I had a couple false starts — late 90’s, mainly — only because of a lack of self-esteem. It’s something I’ve thought about, too. I brought a camera to some shows in the mid-90’s, but I just hated the feeling of being “that guy”. I picked one up again a few years later, but I just couldn’t shake that feeling.Lack of self-esteem? For sure. Imposter syndrome? Maybe. I think about that a lot, too. Imposter syndrome. Then, I met Eric Kroll.
I had been working as a director. Dirty movies. Creepy, I know. But the work pays well. A few years earlier I had been denied tenure at one one (and only) job I had ever truly enjoyed in this life, and some pals who had started making big money in the early, early days of internet smut offered me a gig shooting content. This made more sense to me that returning back to The Middle-school-high-school Gig. Plus, it paid well. Really well. But that’s another story.
Eric Kroll was having dinner with some friends when my pal Adrianna Nicole introduced us. I had no idea who Eric was, but I was aware of Fetish Girls. It was one of Cherry Poppens very favorite books, and she was one of my very favorite people. Poor Heather. Rest in Peace.
I had just blown one of my packs, and I mentioned this to Eric. Maybe just as a way to make some conversation. I mean we’re five minutes deep into knowing each other, and Eric is offering to take me to his storage unit to borrow one of his. The very beginning of a close friendship / mentorship that lasts to this day. But I digress.
Eric’s work and the knowledge he started sharing with me was boosting my self-esteem, and I didn’t feel so much like a fraud; plus, my job was taking pics of naked people doing the nasty. Why not pay for another hour for some arty-farties? (“Arty-farty” is my go-to term for anything I do creatively.)
I was aware of Hockney’s photos / photocollages, and I still have my mom’s old SX-70. But it was super inconsistent and that film is expensive. The Fuji Instax is new and reliable and on a work-related trip to Samy’s, I teated myself to one and started to experiment.
I didn’t want to (nor could I) make photocollages like Hockey’s, but I sure as fuck gave it a whorl. And after the solo show I was going to have at a small gallery in Louisville pulled the plug at the last minute (work was already framed), Jody and Stephen from These Days graciously stepped up to the plate and took a chance on me. They also published my photozine Various Self Portraits for the show.
And for that, I am forever grateful.
But like most rides, who knows how long it’ll last. I’ve got my post-COVID energy going, so I’m going to revive the blog (who the fuck blogs anymore!? Where’s your TicTok and your Podcast ?!), and add my virtual bookstore (cause I can’t brick-and-mortar).
Let’s see how long I can keep it up. Pun intended.
William Braden -- The Private Sea: LSD & The Search for God.
$45.00
Elbert Hubbard, The Roycrofters - and The Philistine!
$100.00
Betty Smith TOMORROW WILL BE BETTER special signed copy!
$600.00
Harry Crews FLORIDA FRENZY essays and fiction and it's a review copy!
$80.00
Bob Mizer and Tom of Finland and the Athletic Model Guild -- Vintage Beefcake Madness!
$50.00
