as if things weren’t innacurate enough: can’t wait ‘til this merger takes hold. mom will doubtless be thrilled; she’s always wanted to incorporate nardo into her french 101 plotlines.
“the finest art is that which was made artful without intent of such.”
-anonymous, found on a Post-It
hello dahlink, it’s diane. sorry i didn’t meet you at smart bar. it wasn’t my fault. remember that kid i picked up last night? yeah, him. well, he’s gay. he tells me this as i try and kiss him at the front door, NEVER MIND that i’ve been doing everything except fingering myself at him all night. AND THEN he has the nerve to be carrying ecstasy in his front pocket IN A PRESCRIPTION BOTTLE. so of course security wasn’t too pleased and they tried to cuff and arrest both of us and i told them to take robbie and leave me the fuck alone because we’d just met. they did, for some reason. i mean, REALLY. drug charges? that is NOT what diane’s about. AT ALL. anyway. i was irate, so i went home. not conversational. mea culpa. love you, doll. call me. ciao, bella.
…influenced by my workplace and the businessy histrionics thereof. this is the first rudimentary sketch from these raw concepts and these more finished ideas. if i keep a steady hand, it’ll be as hot as she’s turning out. should be a challenge with a composition that complex. fun!
so someone breaks the speed of light and bango : every basic structure of narrative gets blown apart. no more action and consequence, no more cause and effect (so far only on a subatomic level, so there’s no need to have an anyeurism just yet).
i have been somewhat remiss in not keeping up with ella on her own site (elegantly titled “ella!”), now that she’s successfully defeated her first birthday - hence catchup reading while i wait for a rendering to finish.
new developments seem to include abstract expressionism, drinking, and running away.
fuck ladytron. fortran five beat them all hollow ten years ago. vocals provided by miranda sex garden. how i miss them.
further development, and a bit of character from yesterday.
(yes, i realize she’s burly for a supermodel. i haven’t yet decided if she’s a man or a woman. hell, i haven’t even decided if the shoes should be heels or wedgies. but the hair’s gonna be big.)
to appease inquiries, here’s the full process [1] [2] [3], the example being a first-time collaboration with a friend. completed last week as a component of a poster for his fiend’s show. bitchin’ portrait of flynn, if i do say so m’self.
missy j proved to be a good client*, a pleasant break from the usual first-time collaboration°. and that was kinda nice. proof that friendship and business can happily coexist.
*does only a single one-eighty in development, doesn’t scratch at my substance-abuse rage reflex, costs me no sleep
°likes to do a coupla three-sixties before realizing it was right the first time, gets screamy upon seeing final art, causes me tense, angry, drunk all-nighters
i’ve been reduced to hauling tired ideas from the attic. on one hand i’m annoyed with lack of creativity due to time restriction. on the other, refreshed to do formal studies, the most enjoyable of which is writing and crafting a book with chester’s panderella.
been one of those weeks that leaves me feeling like i’ve been slowly bitten to death by an irritated, bored flock of geese.
began with a completely unexpected spray of messages from folks with whom i haven’t spoken in months, all inexplicably apologizing for pissing me off (never happened) leaving me paranoid about my social skills. accelerated paranoia from a dismal shareholder’s meeting on tuesday resulting in some rather forbidding predictions. further acceleration delivered by knowledge that my porfolio’s not ready should i need to forage for kibble somewhere else. further irritation/insult came from three (three!) people in a single night upset because “you’re looking much thinner than you were last time we saw you” followed by Sally Struthers puppydog eyes (no shit, braniac : the last time any of you saw me was over a year ago, and i’ve lost sixty pounds since then. sorry to leave you off my body image memo list), leaving me paranoid that my friends think i’m morphing into Karen Carpenter : The Sequel. and then an acidic taste in the back of my throat upon realizing that yes : that’s EXACTLY what they think.
all of which equals a magnificent case of insomnia peppered with rage - more than likely the direct cause of my snapping lapdog mood all week. definitely the deciding factor leading to the screeching, sibilant, stupid tirade i had toward one of maybe four people (that number being an optimistic stretch; ask me about my trust issues) i would actually miss if our relationship ended. stupid, stupid, stupid.
so. i stopped by the bakery this evening and picked up a flourless chocolate torte. i’m gonna go to lily’s later this evening and deliver the motherfucker to a friend who shouldn’t be tending bar (it’s his birthday). i’m going to tell him i love him, and i’m gonna make FUCKING sure at least one person i adore has at least one good day this week. i’ll be goddamned if i let the tenuous state of external circumstances color everything the same tint of babyshit brown.
end rant. the phones are all turned off, so leave me alone. i’m clearly not playing well with others right now.
splash o’ vodka + tussle in back seat of xterra with beautiful czech boy + ride home from his boyfriend + not getting caught + his phone number = near freedom from bad mood. guess who i’m calling/doing tomorrow?
it’s so gratifying to wake up in a room in which every piece of art is completely askew, books are knocked to the floor, and the bedsheets are ten feet from the bed. even more gratifying to find new constellations of scratches on one’s back.
girl…
good news : our fundraiser last week for about face youth theatre raised approximately $65,000 for the kids. better news : tickets for the performance, in real life, which premieres on chicago pride day, are available now. support our kids, y’all!
“i believe the occasional reminder of physicality is absolutely necessary,” he said upon realization that not everyone is privy to such information.
hey! who turned on the heat!?
when companies get desparate, their members will believe anything.
i’m working at home this afternoon. i’d rather not smell fear quite so vibrantly.
summer in chicago : hits you like a brick wall. there is no such thing as spring here. last week it was 55 and foggy, today it’s 95 and humid. i’m a southern boy to the core, and i love it. gimme moisture, gimme heat, gimme the sun, gimme city dust that sticks and makes my skin all sweaty and grimy…
i got hot sticky art, a sassy summer anthem (6.4mb mp3, full disc is here), and an endless supply of wifebeaters. i’m ready.
hey girls : justin’s unveiled his obscene interiors 2. run, don’t walk. the first one was so good that nightcharm, which has only occasional strokes of taste, ripped it off. yow!
who’s the asshole who drank all the motherfucking café bustelo leaving me with some bullshit starbucks breakfast blend in the freezer!? now i gotta do this espn gig in the middle of a nasty caffeine crash. fuck fuck fuckity fuck.
some of you may remember me spouting off about a theatre site i created some months ago.
the site was created to facilitate the orchestration of a new stage show for about face youth theatre, a company of young performers writing original theatre about coming out in this day and age.
the show, “in real life,” premiered on pride day to an amazing response (four standing ovations!). we’ve been covered locally by abc, nbc wgn and nationally by cnn. just yesterday, we were awarded funding from the diana, princess of wales fund to extend the program nationally. even better : we’re one of only ten companies awarded in the entire country.
the performers, all gay, lesbian and transgendered kids aged 15-22, gathered stories from gay youth worldwide. the final show was built by finding commonality in kids’ experiences, then weaving the collected stories into a script. the result is a show that deals with the issues they deal with every day: everything from the trauma of aids to the trauma of prom night.
if you’d like tickets to the show, pick’em up here. it’s running until july 22. it’s amazing to hear the things these kids have to say. y’all come now, hear..?
athens, cairo, london, and most magnificently…san francisco : a complete collection of apple’s original system fonts, taken from a vintage set of system 6 disks i just found in an old portfolio.
for you, type lovers. (mac only, sorry…impossible to convert for windows)
the designers republic has relaunched lately. can’t remember if i’ve mentioned this before, but their trademark treatment of consumer information overload is better than ever. classic works include the basic construction of the entire visual vocalbulary of the rave movement. it’s also good to see that, true to form, their forms are being disseminated through the design professions quickly without much addition to substance. as i say: relax, it’s only style.
other innovator of the early nineties visual vocalbulary, me company, has also added a character development division that i’m not nuts about. the commentary isn’t as obvious as in their other works. nevertheless : there’s nothing wrong with the fetishization of the consumer object for the sake of pure delight.
related tangent : i share a birthday with andy bell of erasure and bjorn ulvaeus of abba. april 25th was a good day for the gays.
jesus, enough with the designers republic wannabes already!
in contrast, this stands out : lush, cinematic and filthy. more, please.
i had dinner and drinks with the skillet tonight. and you, you pathetic mess, did not.
shouldn’t you be getting out more..? really. i’m worried about you, honey.
rock on, bear princess. i haven’t worn deodorant for years. the only part of my body that gets added scent is my hair - simply because it’s absorbent of odors and i spend a lot of time in smoky nightclubs.
i’d also like to add, as i’ve been discussing with another young man, that if you’re conscious of your scent you might also consider how you taste. some of us are deeply concerned with our own and our partners’ lickability (and not just carnally).
for starters, let’s consider that the skin is the largest filtration organ your body uses. it is, quite literally, your conduit to the world. and as such: garbage in, garbage out. if you’re going to indulge in twinkies and doritos and beer all day, it’ll filter out through your skin. you’ll have an acidy chemical taste. which means that you and i will never fight crime together (to use my favorite euphemism).
stay away from processed foods, meat products, and sodas. treat your body to fresh produce, meat substitutes (soy is high in protein), fruit, and gallons of water. you’ll feel ten times better. you’ll not only be delicious, but your skin will clear up, it won’t wrinke as quickly (you do use sunblock, right?), you’ll be regular as the tides, you won’t suffer hangovers as often, you won’t fall ill as often, your risk of heart disease and cancer will drop dramatically, you’ll add about thirty years to your life expectancy and most importantly : i might lick you. who wouldn’t want that?
this has been a public service announcement from your friendly neighborhood observant slut.
