Michelle (Jane Fonda) Lee

Gallery 3209

2011-05-14T09:11:00.003-05:00

Opening reception - Saturday May 21st.

Press release.

Revelation Is More Perilous Than Revolution (Film version)

2011-05-09T10:30:00.003-05:00

By photographer Dan Busta. See the full image here.

Here is the Film version of Revelation Is More Perilous Than Revolution –

Maybe less is more? more natural color?

A production take on Loud, in collaboration with Artist Michelle Jane Lee. I originally wanted to do a totally obnoxious set with all color squares and then I remember looking at Michelle’s work at an artshow in the Brewery. I then approached her to work directly with me in a set collaboration, she agreed. In Michelle’s work all of her colored squares represent letters of the alphabet. Check out more at http://www.michellejanelee.com/

Gallery 3209

2011-05-02T22:16:00.002-05:00

Getting ready for my show at Gallery 3209. The opening will be on the 21st, keep a look out for an invite. Along with couple of "Exit Strategy" pieces I will be doing a site-specific installation. Here's my blank canvas...

Revelation Is More Perilous Than Revolution

2011-05-02T22:14:00.002-05:00

Photographer Dan Busta approached me to collaborate on the set design for a shoot and this is the beautiful result. Check out the full photo here.

Loud

2011-04-16T00:42:00.005-05:00

Time lapse video of Dan Busta and I creating the set.

Screamer

2011-04-12T11:40:00.000-05:00

Collaboration with the fantastic Mr. Dan Busta. Still to come...

Open studio during the Brewery Art Walk

2011-04-11T13:06:00.003-05:00

I will be participating in the Brewery Art Walk which is quite exciting. It's just a really great event over all.

About the Brewery Art Walk -

"The Brewery ArtWalk is a twice annual open studio weekend at the worlds largest art complex. With over 100 participating resident artists, you will have the opportunity to see new works, discover new favorites, speak with the artists and purchase artwork directly from the artists at studio prices.

The ArtWalk takes place in the Spring and Fall, 11:00 am – 6:00 pm

Admission is free and so is parking. Come and support LA’s finest artists, take home some great works and dine at the on-site restaurant. "

ashes to ashes

2011-01-24T17:09:00.003-06:00

Just a little simple video I made. Nothing special, but I love the sounds in the video. Listen...

A Collection Of

2011-01-17T19:59:00.005-06:00

My A COLLECTION OF interview. Check out the entire interview here!

Opening at RAID Projects - Dec 11th

2010-12-10T19:20:00.004-06:00

I'll have two of my letters in the show at RAID Projects. If you're in LA, hope you can make it.

Who Are These People
RAID Projects
602 Moulton Ave
Los Angeles, CA 90031
Saturday, Dec 11 @ 6pm-9pm

basic space

2010-07-05T18:17:00.005-05:00

basic space.

A video I made for work using the NYC photos. I miss NYC SO MUCH it KILLS ME EVERY DAY.

The Purple Pineapple Project

2010-05-22T18:32:00.003-05:00

A group show with 3 of my dearest friends from the Yale Nofolk residency in 2005.

Superstar (Carpenters cover)

2010-03-05T00:12:00.002-06:00

Don't you remember you told me you loved me baby
You said you'd be coming back this way again baby
Baby, baby, baby, baby, oh, baby, I love you I really do

you are all i need

2010-02-21T16:31:00.000-06:00

i'm in the middle of the picture
lying in the leaves

you'll go to hell for what your dirty mind is thinking...

2010-02-11T11:39:00.002-06:00

Don't get any big ideas
they're not gonna happen
You paint yourself white
and feel up with noise
but there'll be something missing

Now that you've found it, it's gone
Now that you feel it, you don't
You've gone off the rails

2010-02-01T01:50:00.004-06:00

a lover and a friend to create with, side by side. To be loyal, yet be free.

I’m back on Boogie Street...

2009-12-14T15:27:00.003-06:00

O Crown of Light, O Darkened One,
I never thought we’d meet.
You kiss my lips, and then you're gone:
I’m back on Boogie Street

THE DESIRE TO PAINT (Charles Bauldelaire)

2009-11-25T21:59:00.000-06:00

Unhappy perhaps is man, but happy the artist torn by desire!

I am consumed by a desire to paint the woman who appeared to me so rarely and who so quickly fled, like a beautiful regretted thing the voyager leaves behind as he is carried away into the night. How long it is now, since she disappeared!

She is beautiful and more than beautiful; she is surprising. Darkness in her abounds, and all that she inspires is nocturnal and profound. Her eyes are two caverns where mystery dimly glistens, and like a lighting flash, her glance illuminates: it is an explosion in the dark.

I have compared her to a black sun, if one can imagine a black star pouring out light and happiness. But she makes one think rather of the moon, which has surely marked her with its portentous influence; not the white moon of idylls which resembles a frigid bride, but the moon torn from the sky, the conquered and indignant moon that the Thessalian Witches cruelly compel to dance on the frightened grass!

That little forehead is inhabited by a tenacious will and a desire for prey. Yet, in the lower part of this disturbing countenance, with sensitive nostrils quivering for the unknown and the impossible, bursts, with inexpressible loveliness, a wide mouth, red and white and alluring, that makes one dream of the miracle of a superb flower blooming on volcanic soil.

There are woman who inspire you with desire to conquer them and to take your pleasure of them; but this one fills you only with the desire to die slowly beneath her gaze.

NYC week 2.3

2009-11-03T07:19:00.001-06:00

(I want you to notice when I'm not around.)

2009-11-03T06:59:00.001-06:00

When you were here before,
couldn't look you in the eye.
Just like an angel,
your skin makes me cry.
you float like a feather,
in a beautiful world.
wish I was special.
you're so very special.

and I'm a creep
I'm a wierdo
What the hell am I doing here?
I don't belong here.

I don't care if it hurts.
I want to have control.
I want a perfect body.
I want a perfect soul.
I want you to notice
when I'm not around.
You're so very special
I wish I was special

But I'm a creep
I'm a wierdo
What the hell am I doing here
when I don't belong here
Woah, woah

she's runnin out again
she's running out she--run--run---run runs
Run.
Whatever makes you happy
whatever you want
youre so very special
I wish I was special

but I'm a creep
I'm a wierdo
What the hell am I doing here?
I don't belong here.
I don't belong here.

NYC week 2.2

2009-11-02T16:44:00.001-06:00

NYC week 2.1

2009-11-01T17:02:00.001-06:00

I need some sweet assistance while I'm stealing some of your time

2009-11-01T16:57:00.002-06:00

Would you help me pack my bags, I might be leaving
I need some sweet assistance while 'm stealing
Some of your time
I hope that's fine

And I've got photographs of all, you're all I'm needing
Forgiveness if I left you all believing
That I'm the one 'cause I feel like none
And I need something to direct me to it

'Cause I'm a frequent flyer, a notorious liar
But I can't get close enough
I never get close
I can't get close enough

I would love to tell my story from the ending
But the story's getting thin from heavy spending
And I need my man, and I need a fence
And I need someone to protect me from the wrench

I'm a frequent flyer, a notorious liar
But I can't get close enough
I never get close
I can't get close enough to the ending

I can't get close enough
I can't get close enough
To the sun

I'm a frequent flyer, a notorious liar
But I can't get close enough
I never get close
I can't get close enough... it seems

NYC week 1.2

2009-10-29T01:02:00.000-05:00

NYC week 1.1

2009-10-28T08:38:00.004-05:00

you're innocent when you dream

2009-10-28T08:12:00.001-05:00

It's such a sad old feeling
the fields are soft and green
it's memories that I'm stelaing
but you're innocent when you dream
when you dream
you're innocent when you dream

I would change for you but, babe, that doesn't mean I'm gonna be a better man

2009-10-19T08:16:00.003-05:00

Favorite song.

(The National and St. Vincent)

Cold ways kill cool lovers
Strange ways we used each other
Why won't you fall back in love with me?
There ain't no way we're gonna find another
The way we sleep all summer
So why won't you fall back in love with me?

Combing over Broken Cross I held on you
Haunted by the ghost of something new

dream come true

2009-10-18T11:55:00.000-05:00

Modern day "ojos de perro azul"

Vitalic - Poison Lips from Seiji Ito on Vimeo.

Frank O'Hara

2009-10-16T12:37:00.000-05:00

In Memory of My Feelings

My quietness has a man in it, he is transparent
and he carries me quietly, like a gondola, through the streets.
He has several likenesses, like stars and years, like numerals.

My quietness has a number of naked selves,
so many pistols I have borrowed to protect myselves
from creatures who too readily recognize my weapons
and have murder in their heart!
though in winter
they are warm as roses, in the desert
taste of chilled anisette.
At times, withdrawn,
I rise into the cool skies
and gaze on at the imponderable world with the simple identification
of my colleagues, the mountains. Manfred climbs to my nape,
speaks, but I do not hear him,
I'm too blue.
An elephant takes up his trumpet,
money flutters from the windows of cries, silk stretching its mirror
across shoulder blades. A gun is "fired."
One of me rushes
to window #13 and one of me raises his whip and one of me
flutters up from the center of the track amidst the pink flamingoes,
and underneath their hooves as they round the last turn my lips
are scarred and brown, brushed by tails, masked in dirt's lust,
definition, open mouths gasping for the cries of the bettors for the lungs
of earth.
So many of my transparencies could not resist the race!
Terror in earth, dried mushrooms, pink feathers, tickets,
a flaking moon drifting across the muddied teeth,
the imperceptible moan of covered breathing,
love of the serpent!
I am underneath its leaves as the hunter crackles and pants
and bursts, as the barrage balloon drifts behind a cloud
and animal death whips out its flashlight,
whistling
and slipping the glove off the trigger hand. The serpent's eyes
redden at sight of those thorny fingernails, he is so smooth!
My transparent selves
flail about like vipers in a pail, writhing and hissing
without panic, with a certain justice of response
and presently the aquiline serpent comes to resemble the Medusa.

Frank O'Hara

Rilke

2009-10-16T11:48:00.001-05:00

Girl

Others on lengthy wanderings
to the darksome poets are forced to fare;
must always be asking a traveler
if he's not seem one singing there
or laying his hands on strings.
Only girls will never ask
what bridge leads to images;
will smile merely, brightlier than necklaces
of pearl against silver bowls unfurled.

All doors from their lives are entrances
into a poet
and into the world.

-Rainer Maria Rilke

sound of silence

2009-10-13T23:25:00.002-05:00

Favorite version.

when you're meant to be

2009-10-13T11:26:00.001-05:00

no, no, no, no, noise
a new song untitled.
words on invisible lines
ripped from the dotted line.
ads on walls,
ripped corners four sides.
riptide monuments
wash ashore rest assured.

fly

2009-10-09T15:10:00.001-05:00

ursula: painting and magical powers seem very much the same. sometimes i’m unable to paint a thing.

kiki: you mean it? then what happens? without even thinking about it i used to be able to fly. now i can’t even begin to remember how i ever managed to do it.

ursula: at times like that, you know what i do? paint. that gets rid of my frustration.

kiki: but still if i can’t fly..

ursula: then stop trying. take long walks, look at the scenery, doze off at noon dont even think about flying. then suddenly you’ll be able to fly again.

My head. My world. My life.

2009-09-25T09:28:00.001-05:00

the doctor

2009-09-22T22:33:00.002-05:00

I saw myself climbing out through the driver seat window.
It was the strangest thing to see in your peripheral view.
I was driving, so I pulled over to the side of the road.
I sat there for a moment, expecting what of the thin air?

It could have been an ordinary morning but now it's a morning
emblazoned deep into the grey matter of the brain itself.
If only I could find the exact spot where it lies I would dig in
with a scalpel or anything sharp and sterile for that matter
and cut it out while whistling a pleasant tune, light and airy.

What is it that we feel we are owed when our jaws clench
and the eyes twitch and the muscles in the neck jerk?
The finger tips and palms rubbing up against one another
with a rhythm that could only be described as maniacal
because there is something so unsettling and unintentional in it.
Not praying, nor praising nor begging then what says it?

Undisclosed desires

2009-09-20T23:27:00.002-05:00

Such an incredible song.

I know you've suffered but I don't want you to hide

It's cold in lovers; I won't let u be denied,
The soon then, I'll make u feel pure
And trust me, you can be sure

I want to reconcile the violence in your heart
I want to recognize your beauty is not just a mask
I want to exorcise the demons from your past
I want to satisfy the undisclosed desires in your heart

you trick your lovers that you're wicked and divine,
you may be a sinner, but your innocence is mine

Please me
Show me how it's done
Tease me
You are the one

I want to reconcile the violence in your heart
I want to recognize your beauty is not just a mask
I want to exorcise the demons from your past
I want to satisfy the undisclosed desires in your heart

Please me
Show me how it's done
Trust me you are the one

I want to reconcile the violence in your heart
I want to recognize your beauty is not just a mask
I want to exorcise the demons from your past
I want to satisfy the undisclosed desires in your heart

Breadballer

2009-09-19T12:41:00.007-05:00

Breadballin' is a new sport I invented out of necessity, fun and madness.

And now, I.CAN'T.STOP.

you can do it in the middle of nowhere...

or you can do it in the city...

good morning Sunshine

2009-09-17T08:42:00.003-05:00

Late at night we dream about the morning

2009-09-17T08:18:00.001-05:00

I love the sound of the train outside my window
I think I am falling in Love with you
I mean, I am in love with you,
and I'm falling

We're going to watch the sunrise one morning
over our city with a beer in our hands
and cold breakfast burritos
shedding pieces of egg and cheese
on the tracks under our dangling feet

The beer was your idea
and the breakfast burrito was a bad idea
The look on your face after the first bite,
I can't believe you ate all of it

I'm sipping on the beer
but getting drunk off the air
You have a piece of something
on the left corner of your mouth
I think, kissing you would be perfect

This, was an offering

2009-09-17T08:17:00.001-05:00

There's a button you push
a door you pull down
a screen you slide across
and then you're in

Today bravery took me nowhere

There are books on the table
One that makes me want to die
One that makes me want to Live

Today bravery took me nowhere

Scattered around them, Thoughts
One that makes me want to kill
One that makes me want to save

The eyes never saw
if the hands never felt

Honesty is a sort of a sacrifice
Your hand, the knife
My lips, the wound
This was an offering

There's a button you push
a door you pull down
a screen you slide across
and then you're out

The way I feel

2009-09-11T00:14:00.001-05:00

"Ever since I began writing this book, which is completely devoted to the cult of a dead person with whom I am living on intimate terms, I have been feeling a kind of excitement which, cloaked by the alibi of Jean's glory, has been plunging me into a more and more intense and more and more desperate life, that has been impelling me to greater boldness. And I feel I have the strength not only to commit bolder burglaries but also to affront fearlessly the noblest human institutions in order to destroy them. I'm drunk with life, with violence, with despair."

Jean Genet from Funeral Rites

MAGIC

2009-09-09T00:21:00.000-05:00

Filmed in Paris, November, 2008

In dreams, emotions are overwhelming.

2009-09-05T08:31:00.003-05:00

Life feels like all the good parts in "The Science of Sleep."

Yes, please.

New (on-going) series

2009-09-03T01:32:00.004-05:00

"Homecoming"

"In kase of fire"

February through August

2009-08-18T23:44:00.002-05:00

February through August I listened to the clock watch serenade.
The tick, the tock, the sinking of Titanic all came and went again.

I would understand better, I thought, if forgetting happened to forget me.

I love your eyes that mimic freshly baked croissants from the patisserie
or the golden brown yam and goat cheese empanadas I'm craving now.

They're beautiful, the quiet giggle under your breath, and delightfully mischievous,
smirking around the outer edges for that perfect and decisive curve up
where the brush lifts off satisfied "voilà!"

voilà!

This was Chicago. I'm in my salt crusted black jeans behind you.
Walking up the stairs, your thighs are the cruelest set I'd ever seen.

Let us be anything but reasonable I

6" x 8"

Beating a dead horse with paint brush

2009-08-05T17:09:00.015-05:00

Such a good little boy.

Oh, wait.

The boy that warms your mother's (fucking) heart, 1992

Sunday afternoon

2009-08-02T13:44:00.005-05:00

I could watch internet porn for hours
or go do something productive.
But what's more productive than sex?
Even if it's other people having it.

I'm sending you signals.
But they keep bouncing off roof tops,
and falling to the bottom of the Pacific Ocean.
There's no life down there.
What good are words?

You're still pretty.
But not as beautiful
as when I had a chance.

It was hopeless, from the very beginning

Love and Poetry and Love

2009-07-25T19:20:00.002-05:00

Frank O'Hara passed away today in 1966.

"I am mainly preoccupied with the world as I experience it, and at times when I would rather be dead the thought that I could never write another poem has so far stopped me. I think this is an ignoble attitude. I would rather die for love, but I haven't."

In love with You at Age 6

I think the lines should come out through the back (and open up) so there's a visual balance. But for now, this is fine.

Le Petit Prince

2009-07-24T13:07:00.008-05:00

The little prince was overheard saying to the boy in the bed next to him "What makes the desert beautiful, is that somewhere it hides a well."

The Little Prince after the surgery

6" x 8"

Grown-ups never understand anything by themselves, and it is tiresome for children to have to explain things to them always and forever...

이별은 美의 創造

2009-07-22T20:38:00.010-05:00

I was looking for Korean poetry on-line and stumbled upon a beautiful poem-

Separation is Beauty's Creation

Separation is beauty's creation.
Separation's beauty is in the intangible yellow-gold of
morning and the textureless black silk of evening
and eternal life's deathlessness and even in the
unwithering sky's blue blossoms lacking.
You. If it were not for separation, I would be
unable to die in tears and live again in laughter.
Oh, oh! Separation.
Beauty is separation's creation.

Manhae Han Yong (1879~1944)

이별은 美의 創造

이별은 美의 創造입니다.
이별의 美는 아침의 바탕 없는 황금과 밤의 올 없는 검은
비단과 죽음 없는 永遠의 生命과 시들지 않는 하늘의 푸른 꽃에도
없습니다.
님이여, 이별이 아니면 나는 눈물에서 죽었다가 웃음에서 다시
살아날 수가 없습니다. 오오, 이별이여.
美는 이별의 創造입니다.

만해 한룡운 (1879~1944)

Also in the process stumbled upon a nice blog featuring Korean poems both in English translation and in original Korean. Check it out here.

Separation is beauty's creation/Beauty is separation's creation. This leaves me speechless...

White Ropes II

2009-07-17T00:47:00.013-05:00

Something brought me back to the white ropes earlier tonight.

Then I found out I just missed your birthday.

9" x 12"*

9" x 12"

6" x 8"

*Please excuse the poor scanning (top right) on the bigger drawings. Thank you.

It seems that you have inspired me another night

2009-07-15T23:55:00.003-05:00

I will go brush my teeth now,
it's bed time.
The blade cut in too deeply
and dug into the bed.
There is a slit in the sheet
in which my toe gets caught,
every now and then.

Two weeks notice (2001-2009)

2009-07-11T09:15:00.001-05:00

Once I fell asleep sitting against the wall
of the Borders on State Street.
I woke up to suits walking around me.
My hair was orange.

It took me three years to realize
I could never be blonde.
And two more to realize
I look good in black.

All the fire alarms destroyed,
the lamps pulled from the roots,
and the old lady's stolen shoes?
We were just belligerent.
Thought the world of pretty boys
with cigarettes and stained teeth.
We didn't even know what beauty was.

How the fuck
did we come out of that one alive?
The truth is, we barely did.

Statistically speaking
I rejected more than I accepted,
when you account for the ratio of
hours into days into months into the year,
etc.

I was young.
And just like that, you get it now.

The winter I blew a lot of money,
I couldn't get myself to lose control really.
But the rent was at least free.

To anyone getting seriously involved-
dissolved, is how I see it, cause
we all saw them less and less.

Rings and bookmarked jewelers on-line.
I haven't bothered taking them down.
I wonder what the big deal is
in getting into it or out of it.

I don't even have the guts to kiss you.
Where do I get off fancying you a good fuck?
It's those shoes you wear,
I'd like you to keep them on.

When I hear footsteps above me
I like to think it's the hot neighbor
coming and going.

Just so you know
I'm jumping years and skipping faces.

Two weeks notice.
I think I'll make some coffee now.

aunque mis labios no hablen te quiero devorar.

2009-07-10T17:04:00.003-05:00

I don't remember anything that happens anymore
someone I used to give a fuck about
I've already forgotten
I remember I used to love her but it's nothing
compared to your back
up against the door
pressed against where your skin
meets the fabric of my shirt

siempre me quedará...

sticky

2009-07-08T20:59:00.007-05:00

I'm going to write little notes, one liners on post-its and collect them in a shoebox.

Because...

Well...

why not?

And the dust the makes a Rubens out of you makes me a serpent

2009-07-07T18:12:00.007-05:00

I have to admit that I've not been as productive, I work on drawings almost daily, but at times it's feeling forced. It's an expected cycle. Mentally and emotionally it's bound to happen regardless of how disciplined you are.

So I've recently turned to books. I find that it's so important to be proactive and stay stimulated always. If you're not feeling (visual) art then write. If you can't write, then read. So I've been reading, a bit.

I have to write an entry about finally picking up Nadja (by Breton) finishing it in one sitting and being astonished, but for me to give him and Nadja justice, it must wait for when my mind can form thoughts into paragraphs. Not today.

Frank O'Hara. I'm revisiting his book of collected poems. He's written so much, you won't love all of it (which I don't) but you'll love a lot of it (which I do.)

Here are few that in the past two days have really grabbed me (of course what poem, painting, film "grabs" you have as much to do with your personal emotional, state at the time as it does the quality of the piece...)

DEATH

1
If half of me is skewered
by grey crested birds
in the middle of the vines of my promise
and the very fact that I'm a poet
suffers my eyes
to be filled with vermillion tears,

2
how much greater danger
from occasion and pain is my vitality
yielding, like a tree on fire!-
for every day is another view
of the tentative past
grown secure in its foundry of shimmering
that's not even historical; it's just me.

3
And the other half
of me where I master the root
of my every idiosyncrasy
and fit my ribs like a glove,

4
is that me who accepts betrayal
in the abstract as if it were insight?
and draws its knuckles
across the much-lined eyes
in the most knowing manner of our time?

5
The wind that smiles through the wires
isn't vague enough for an assertion
of a personal nature, it's not for me,

6
I'm not dead. Nothing remains, let alone "to be said,"
except when I fall backwards
I am trying something new and shall succeed, as in the past.

Song

Did you see me walking by the Buick Repairs?
I was thinking of you
having a Coke in the heat it was your face
I saw on the movie magazine, no it was Fabian's
I was thinking of you
and down at the railroad tracks where the station
has mysteriously disappeared
I was thinking of you
as the bus pulled away in the twilight
I was thinking of you
and right now

A Hill

Yes, it's disgusting
when you lose
control, but my
wilderness is love

of a kind, no?
And the purity
of my confusion is
there, it's poetry

in love with you
along with me,
both of us love you
in the same "My!"

Yes, but don't be
scared; poetry
is intangible and
there's no purity

in me
outside of love,
which you can easily wreck
and I can lose.

Clouds pass in
my notorious eyes
but you, through
all, I see.

My Heart

I'm not going to cry all the time
nor shall I laugh all the time,
I don't prefer one "strain" to another.
I'd have the immediacy of a bad movie,
not just a sleeper, but also the big,
overproduced first-run kind. I want to be
at least as alive as the vulgar. And if
some aficionado of my mess says "That's
not like Frank!", all to the good! I
don't wear brown and grey suits all the time,
do I? No. I wear workshirts to the opera,
often. I want my feet to be bare,
I want my face to be shaven, and my heart--
you can't plan on the heart, but
the better part of it, my poetry, is open.

I have a dream... for future female Korean artists

2009-06-25T23:00:00.004-05:00

Today an idea came to me and I hope that I can realize this.

I want to start putting away between $1000-2000 when I am 30 in an account every year (whatever is best for money that won't be taken out for 30 years.) And when I turn 60 I want to develop a foundation with this money (between $30000-$60000+ interest) and every year give away $2500 to a Korean female art student/artist (fine art, no fashion, no design, no architecture) between the ages of 18 and 25 to be used for an abroad trip with the intent of artistic inspiration. At the end of the trip, within a set time after the trip the they will be asked to create something to share the experience and its influences. Photos, video, sketches, any medium of their choice and an essay/paper. They pick where they want to go, how long they want to stay, what they do there, the $2500 can cover the airfare, whatever for the trip (in most cases it won't cover the whole trip but will be a nice supplement.) For example, for me just sitting in a cafe in Paris had an even more profound affect on my art then walking through the Dalí museum. So they don't have to take an art class with the money, spend it on art museums tickets, sketchbooks or a portable easel or other supplies. They can spend all $2500 on pain au chocolat if they want (and if these don't inspire you, there is no hope!)

More and more I'm realizing what traveling has done and does for me, as an artist, as someone with the artist soul. Also I'm recognizing more and more how being Korean, and female, affects being an artist. Put it all together and it can at times make for a very uncertain, scary and depressing place. One trip I've experienced can silence all that. You don't come back and all of sudden everything is okay, your parents don't worry less, you don't make more money, but something happens. I want to give this to Korean girls. I am them, they are me.

And god knows how much Korean parents like to brag about their kids getting anything "prestigious" especially money/scholarships. It's hard to brag about a crazy artist daughter to their friends with lawyer sons and doctor daughters. But, this would be something. My mom never knew what the Yale residency really did for me. It had nothing to do with Ivy League. But that's what she knows it as. We both love the residency, for different reasons but for once, we were both happy I chose art. I want a Korean daughter and Korean mom to be happy at the same time for Art. (This, means a lot to the Korean daughter. TRUST ME.)

This doesn't seem too impossible. I just have to make couple more grand a year in my 30s. This will happen. Right? Yes.

At the end of the day, I don't want these girls to have to eat ramen every day to go to Paris for 8 days. I'll do that so they won't have to.

(artist budgeting 101: ramen, milk crate for dining table, walls for drawing board = one more day in Paris)

you didn't need me to know your name.

2009-06-24T18:08:00.005-05:00

Neda 1991, imagined

but we all do...

I spent the last two hours doing something I thought was good. But now I'm not too sure.

2009-06-24T01:51:00.002-05:00

You know, I miss a lot of things,
beginning with-
curious I actually wasn't.
Awkward, strangely, it wasn't.

A drink or two
must've spilled.
There was a glossy sheen to the floor
when the lights flickered at 2:30 a.m.

The radio turned on
when the car started.
There were voices,
not singing,
just talking.
I'm becoming my father,
even though it's my mother
I desperately want to be.

Or any mother,
if I could just convince myself
and somebody else too.

You wouldn't know anything about this,
cause I can tell "you're not that kind."
Being the asshole in the right context
is doing the right thing.

You did the right thing,
I can accept that.

I'm starting to think
I wouldn't mind a working relationship,
not in the sense that it "works,"
cause that's so subjective.
But working like evolving,
like water.

Something just bit me, finally.
It's summer
and hot as fuck.

How could I explain this?
A phenomenon of sleepy eyes
and home made curtains
with uneven edges
dragging on the floor.
It's a beautiful color
but the fabric could be better.

I spent the last two hours
doing something I thought was good.
But now I'm not too sure.

we are all children, we are ALL the future

2009-06-20T21:06:00.005-05:00

boy shirtless, Iran, 6/20/2009

The funniest thing

2009-06-17T21:48:00.000-05:00

The drive wasn't so pleasant
but not the worst.
The torrential rain pour
swallowing city skyscrapers,
there's some charm in that.

There's nothing to wait for
I wasn't waiting
or standing still.
It didn't pass me buy
or slip right through my fingers.

There's no rhetorical question
or metaphorical musing.

The sky's the strangest color tonight.
The puddle, always on the left side,
I climb through, right foot first.
The gravel wet turns a shade darker
like coming home an hour too late.

The blanket reminded me of another time,
there was nothing to dream that night.
There was no point in turning around
so I faced the wall all night.
But come on,
we've known this all along.

You probably don't know the part
where he says exactly the thing I would say.
But it's so charming, I hope you catch it.

It was the funniest thing,
the crooked streets and no one else to see it.

6/16/2009

Having is illusory, my dear. Whatever we have is determined by others. Because of this, I offer a dream. I’ll be what you want me to be: man or woman

2009-06-16T20:34:00.006-05:00

One of my dearest friends shared this poem with me. She said it reminded her of me, of us. Ah, I could read it over and over and be filled with this energy, excitement, a sense of purpose and understanding. I love how every world is connected. I can see Robin in Nightwood roaming the street late night, and I catching a glimpse of her steps behind as I too walk the streets, and the same night Djuna has locked herself in her house and Anais is dancing drenched in music in Harlem. Temporal drag, isn't it a wonder, and a bitch! And how I love the ones, the few, that are here with me now. Thank you.

Saturday Night

In the solitary dawn
through drifting secondhand smoke
and sidewalks sticky with spit
I go out walking
to escape the nocturnal silence of my own room
seeking bright lights
oh, those neon friends who always ward off
my internal wolves
my hungry demons
(my Vallejo ancestors).
I go in search of something
losing myself in the narrow streets round the harbor
looking for company,
oh, the sweet drugs that since Baudelaire
have run along the gutters of cities at nighttime
--London, Paris, New York, Madrid—
oh, the unknown flesh that stirs, aroused by a look.
Finally I find it: some sleazy joint that’s still open
a prison cell of solitary pleasures
a peep show hidden between the trees:
a bookstore open all night
where I can wallow among the books
luxuriate in other people’s verses
and finally reach orgasm
with one of Allen Ginsberg’s self-destructive poems.

--Cristina Peri Rossi
(translated by Tatiana de la Tierra)

A great interview with Rossi from BOMB Magazine (where this poem was featured) here.

All I want with my life is to die a house wife...

2009-06-14T21:48:00.009-05:00

Double III

12" x 18"

colored pencil, graphite on paper

Randomly came across this animation video on youtube. Just wonderful. "By Your Side" is one of my favorite songs by CocoRosie, it in fact was the very song I was introduced to them with (thank you Sylvie.)

It's such a sad song. It's such a sad video. But I understand it so well. And even want it. Isn't it strange? I blame it on Midsommarfest. Too many families, too many kids. It turns me into absolute mush.

Exit Strategies-

2009-06-14T18:38:00.010-05:00

Exit Strategy I

18" x 24"

colored pencil, graphite on paper

Exit Strategy II (slightly crooked, bad scan)

18" x 24"

colored pencil, graphite on paper

For bigger sizes go here and click on thumbnails.

"For the werewolf, somebody like you and me."

2009-06-13T09:11:00.007-05:00

Another excerpt from Henry Miller's The Books In My Life

(Miller quoting Sherwood Anderson) "If there has been a betrayal in America," he goes on to say, "I think it is our betrayal of each other. I do not believe that we- and by the word 'we' I mean artists, writers, singers, etc.- have really stood by each other." ...He speaks of our loneliness for one another. He says that it might help for all of us "to return to the old habit of letter-writing between man and man that has at certain periods existed in the world."

On a similar note, I thought this song accompanies quite well this idea of loneliness in being an artist. Being a creative person, at least for me, is like being the man who turns into a werewolf. I am not the same when I am creating as I am simply living as a girl. There's a complete change. Unstoppable and uncontrollable. The full moon rises so often (a blessing because it allows us to be so powerful and wild) but at times it is scary, and yes lonely, and I miss the girl and wonder when the moon will fall, if ever. And naturally, more people understand the girl than, the werewolf.

Oh the werewolf, oh the werewolf
Comes stepping along
He don't even break the branches where he's gone
Once I saw him in the moonlight, when the bats were a flying
I saw the werewolf, and the werewolf was crying

Cryin' nobody knows, nobody knows, body knows
How I loved the man, as I teared off his clothes
Cryin' nobody know, nobody knows my pain
When I see that it's risen; that full moon again

For the werewolf, for the werewolf has sympathy
For the werewolf, somebody like you and me.
And only he goes to me, man this little flute I play
All through the night, until the light of day, and we are doomed to play

For the werewolf, for the werewolf, has sympathy
For the werewolf, somebody like you and me

if it be your will (I shall abide until I am spoken for)

2009-06-05T18:24:00.012-05:00

"lot of those songs are just the response to what struck me as Beauty whatever that curious emanation from a being, or an object, or a situation, or a landscape, that had a very powerful affect on me as it does on everyone and I pray to have some response to the things that were so clearly beautiful to me and they were alive."

-Leonard Cohen

And is that not also my wish? I pray, I pray that I respond to Beauty when She shows herself (may I be so blessed.)

Exit Strategy II

(Another amazing version of "If It Be Your Will" is Antony's, of Antony and the Johnson's. Embedding of this version is disabled but you must, must watch, listen, here- Antony singing "If It Be Your Will")

working 10 to 10, what a way to not make a living

2009-05-29T15:29:00.010-05:00

First full day off of work since I started the longest/biggest letter (18" x 24", approximately 1800 letters) for the series and I've already put a good 4, 5 hours into it. And finally, I decided to put my wrist brace on. It slows me down, but it doesn't stop me. And fine, I'm old enough to try to take care of myself.

Here's a photo, because it's awesome.

I'm determined to finish this piece today. It's called "Exit Strategy." Or "Exit Strategy I" because most likely (if I like the way it looks) there will be several more of these in the same dimension.

and, FUCK YOU CARPAL TUNNEL!

Thank you though, Life for making tragedy as beautiful as any other Beauty you've got in you.

Edit- Sunday 4:00 p.m. FINISHED. Finally. Turns out it takes way more than 12 hours to do a letter this size. Good to know. (Horrible photo...)

more "Passive Aggressive Love Notes and Other Unmentionable Thoughts"

"We are at once free and enslaved"

2009-05-25T17:52:00.016-05:00

"I really believe that if I were not a writer, not a creator, not an experimenter, I might have been a very faithful wife. I think highly of faithfulness. But my temperament belongs to the writer, not to the woman. Such a separation may seem childish, but it is possible. Subtract the over-intensity, the sizzling of ideas, and you get a woman who loves perfection. And faithfulness is one of the perfections. It seems stupid and unintelligent to me now because I have bigger plans in mind. Perfection is static, and I am in full progress. The faithful wife is only one phase, one moment, one metamorphosis, one condition."

-Anaïs Nin

Leave it to Anaïs to always speak my truth. If I were not an "artist" (or whatever I am) I would simply be the best wife (when I am.) It's a juggle and even more so a struggle. ~~Often~~ Sometimes I get a bit sad about it because all I want other than Art is to be a wife and a mother. But no one needs a crazy wife and no child should have a crazy mother. So we yes, move on.

My first painting in a long, long, long time (in progress and taken with a shitty phone camera) My first self-portrait in a long, long, long time as well. I guess, it just was time.

The piece is called "Here Comes the Fucking Bride." I'm in a wedding hanbok and will of course get the red dots on my cheeks like a good bride should.

"For his faithfulness, I give him my imagination. Even my talent, if you will." -A.N.

"Everything nourishes me, stimulates me"

2009-05-25T13:08:00.007-05:00

Here are some lines I've underlined in the last couple pages I've read in Henry Miller's The Books In My Life. I'm taking lot longer than usual to finish this book, but the great thing about this book is that it (or Henry) does not demand you "finish" it. It simply wants to be there for you, and for you to pick it up when you can really absorb and be with it. And I, certainly love and appreciate it so much more for it.

"All these critical and interpretive studies of authors so vitally important (to us) are made in our own interest, I believe. Our labors only serve to make us better understand ourselves. Our subjects seldom need our defense or our brilliant interpretations. Usually they are dead by the time we get to them. As for the public, I am more and more convinced that "they" too need less and less assistance or instruction; it is more important, I do believe, for them to struggle on their own.

As for Joyce, certainly I am indebted to him. Certainly I was influenced by him. But my affinity is more with Lawrence, obviously. My antecedents are the romantic, demonic, confessional, subjective types of writers."

"We do not ask of one who opens our eyes by what authority he acts; we do not demand his credentials. Nor should we be forever grateful and reverent towards our benefactors, since each of us has the power in turn to awaken others and does in fact do so, often unwittingly. The wise man, the holy man, the true scholar, learns as much from the criminal, the beggar, the whore, as he does from the saint, the teacher, or the Good Book."

my flesh sings out, it sings "come put me out"

2009-05-24T16:35:00.006-05:00

I started a painting today. WOW. What a feeling. I haven't painted in months, I absolutely adore my drawings and drawing itself, but it's so different. It's the most sensual act, experience. The feeling of brush laying (oil) paint on the canvas... The way it looks, the way it sits, glistens, smells, so alive and wet.

Drawings are my children, painting is my Lover.

A song for a Lover-

The body breaks and the body is fine
I'm open to yours and I'm open to mine
The body aches and that ache takes its time
But you'll get over yours and I'll get over mine
And the sun will shine
And the moon will rise
The body calls
Yeah the body it calls out
It whispers at first but it ends with a shout
The body burns
Yeah the body burns strong
Until mine is with yours
Then mine will burn on
My flesh sings out
It sings come put me out
The body sways like the wind on a swing
A bridge through a hoop
Or a lake through a ring
The body stays and then the body moves on
And I'd really rather not dwell on when yours will be gone
But within the dark
There is a shine
One tiny spark
That's yours and mine...

"...that in fact I never again intend to run into a blank wall."

2009-05-12T21:01:00.005-05:00

I've begun translating my first book. On page 3 of a 276 page book. Call it ambitious, call it crazy, I call it Love and Devotion. This isn't so much a series, but a life long project. I want to translate all of her works (Anais Nin) and between her diaries and novels, well let's say it will take my whole life. It's paying homage, it's saying thanks. Her words are so beautiful, I know my translation of them into colors can't do them true justice, but the years and the work I put into them, will be the least I can do.

(left side, translated. right side, in progress)

(this page you can see the faint letters written in pencil)

The Fountain

2009-05-03T09:40:00.001-05:00

the feather in the drain
said the water
comes here no more

and the leaf in the water
said i've never
been so free

the Lovers
pushed and pulled
and this too,
was written in The Rules

a whisper
flutters into thin air
words too, evaporate
nothing so concrete
even rocks
turn into sand
and wash away

and the world
showed Herself
when we started
looking

(Boston, May 2, 2009)

White Rope II

2009-04-28T10:09:00.016-05:00

There are so many white ropes. How could I tie knots into all of them to make all of them useless? Make them beautiful. But useless. I could never get them all. And this morning, another girl found a perfectly fine rope, enough rope for a loop and a single knot. No, no, no, that's not how you do it. You make knots everywhere, you make knots all over so you can't use it. So you can't use it. Please, stop.

I don't like to go into depth what my work is about. But then sometimes, it's beyond "art." The "White Rope" series (I've previously mentioned but didn't explain) is about suicide. More specifically among Korean girls and women. I've come across too many of them just in the past 6 months and I know enough to understand there is something so wrong. There is normal pressure and normal depression and feeling not good enough. But it's more than that. It's not just individual and individual demons and weaknesses. There's a much greater force behind it that pushes. But we don't, I don't, know what it is because it's never talked about. Something is killing our girls. This is murder. We are not weak. They are being killed. Suicide, you don't investigate, you let it rest. Suicide, it's shameful you don't talk about it. But it's not suicide, it's murder. Investigate. Talk about it. Don't blame them. Stop blaming them. We are all getting away with murder. Even I, even I...

What am I doing about it? It feels like nothing but it is something because I don't really know what else to do. So I'm taking these white ropes, and I'm tying knots into them. Over and over again. As many white ropes. I need to make them useless. Knotted, tightly and complicated so they can't be used. I need to take all of them... I need to take all of them...

14

15

16

more "White Rope" drawings

One day I'll grow up, I'll be a beautiful woman.

2009-04-27T22:37:00.023-05:00

I had been growing out my hair for 6+ months. It had been the longest it's been since I was 20. People asked me why I was growing my hair out. I'd say "to be a girl." No one got it. When I was 20 and I had short hair everyone thought I was a boy. The looks, the questions. I cut my hair off couple days ago. I still look like a girl. No confusion, no questions. There's nothing profound about this. It's just funny. I could become a boy just by cutting off my hair. And now I'm a girl even when I cut off my hair. A part of me feels like I lost one of my super powers. And it's bitter sweet. Even if there are other factors, it feels like Time is what changed this and not so much anything on my part. Then and now still, I'm so uncomfortable with the definite. I hope I can always change. I want to be forever fluid. This isn't about gender, or any one thing. It's about existing and all the ways we can and we do and, maybe sometimes we just have to.

20.

26.

One day I'll grow up, I'll be a beautiful woman.
One day I'll grow up, I'll be a beautiful girl.
One day I'll grow up, I'll be a beautiful woman.
One day I'll grow up, I'll be a beautiful girl.

But for today I am a child, for today I am a boy.
For today I am a child, for today I am a boy.
For today I am a child, for today I am a boy.

One day I'll grow up, I'll feel the power in me.
One day I'll grow up, of this I'm sure.
One day I'll grow up, I know whom within me.
One day I'll grow up, feel it full and pure.

But for today I am a child, for today I am a boy.
For today I am a child, for today I am a boy.
For today I am a child, for today I am a boy.

(Antony and the Johnsons)

Bat

2009-04-27T10:32:00.004-05:00

Park Chan Wook's (most notably of The Vengeance Trilogy including "Sympathy for Mr. Vengeance," "Oldboy," "Sympathy for Lady Vengeance") new film "Thirst" is going to Cannes. This means it's getting closer and closer to release time. I've been waiting on a subtitled trailer to share but I can't hold back anymore. Even if you don't understand, you will understand.

This "Twilight" ~~bullshit~~ phenomenon has tainted the vampire genre and I hope people won't say silly things like this movie is riding on the coat tails of those movies or is "just another vampire" themed movie. To be honest, I've never cared for "vampire" movies scary nor campy which these films tend to fall under. Then I saw "Let the Right One In" which was the most beautiful film of 2008 and I've realized, you can do vampire right. SO, so, so right. And I have no doubt Park Chan Wook will do this so, so, so right.

Its the stupid details that my heart is breaking for

2009-04-25T15:41:00.010-05:00

I love Elvis Costello. I just love him. Everything about him.

"I Want You" is on top of my favorite Elvis songs. I know it's not the "typical" Elvis but I know this song is still especially loved by his fans because of the fact that he shows this side of him. And when he brings it, he BRINGS it.

This song is 1,000,000 stabs to the heart and one single slap to the face that says "WAKE UP."

Well with this live version make that 2,000,000 stabs to the heart.

Oh my baby baby I love you more than I can tell
I dont think I can live without you
And I know that I never will
Oh my baby baby I want you so it scares me to death
I cant say anymore than I love you
Everything else is a waste of breath
I want you
Youve had your fun you dont get well no more
I want you
Your fingernails go dragging down the wall
Be careful darling you might fall
I want you
I woke up and one of us was crying
I want you
You said young man I do believe youre dying
I want you
If you need a second opinion as you seem to do these days
You can look in my eyes and you can count the ways
I want you
Did you mean to tell me but seem to forget
I want you
Since when were you so generous and inarticulate
I want you
Its the stupid details that my heart is breaking for
Its the way your shoulders shake and what theyre shaking for
Its knowing that he knows you now after only guessing
I want you
Its the thought of him undressing you or you undressing
I want you
He tossed some tatty compliment your way
I want you
And you were fool enough to love it when he said
I want you
The truth cant hurt you its just like the dark
It scares you witless
But in time you see things clear and stark
I want you
Go on and hurt me then well let it drop
I want you
Im afraid I wont know where to stop
I want you
Im not ashamed to say I cried for you
I want you
I want to know the things you did that we do too
I want you
I want to hear he pleases you more than I do
I want you
I might as well be useless for all it means to you
I want you
Did you call his name out as he held you down
I want you
Oh no my darling not with that clown
I want you
Youve had your fun you dont get well no more
I want you
No-one who wants you could want you more
I want you
Every night when I go off to bed and when I wake up
I want you
Im going to say it once again til I instill it
I know Im going to feel this way until you kill it
I want you
I want you

Treeless Mountain

2009-04-23T02:11:00.009-05:00

"Treeless Mountain" is a Korean film directed by So-yong Kim about two sister's summer while their mother leaves them in search of their father. She tells them by the time their piggy bank is full, she'll be back. It's a story of the two little girls figuring out life with all its confusions and unfamiliar offerings, but doing so determined and earnestly. From the clips and the trailer I'm certain it's going to be heartbreaking, but even more so triumphant and wise.

I came across this film on NPR and you can read the review here.

Such quiet narrative, I love the naturalness of it all, from the visuals to the acting. Nothing seems forced, it just is. I love that.

It's got such limited release but I'll make sure to get my hands on it when I can. Again, if you know me, you understand children mean everything to me, especially in Art, especially in Life. They teach me everything.

Found in translation

2009-04-22T17:57:00.006-05:00

Just 2 days and I've translated 14 "love notes" and other "unmentionable thoughts." A little bit excessive but as one of my favorite saying goes Beauty inspires obsession. It really does. I don't see an end to this anytime too soon however I do want to begin translating Korean poems/songs into colors. This will require me to come up with a much different system when assigning colors to letters than the fairly simple one I use for the English alphabet. Unlike English, the Korean version will have different colors being layered up top of eachother because a single Korean word is formed by different letters (of the Korean alphabet) "joining/building on top of" one another. I'm excited to try to find a way to translate Korean into color. I may be unsuccessful, but I will try. Keep a look out for these in the coming weeks.

For now, some more from the current series. And for the rest, go to my website.

So much like home and all this time I didn't know

I know I fucked up in the beginning

that's the plan, rule the world (you and me)

2009-04-20T18:18:00.005-05:00

Thanks to This American Life live at Chicago Theatre last night (it was fucking fantastic by the way) I learned that I am, Dr. Horrible. I've never personally seen this internet based blog/show of Dr. Horrible, created by Joss Whedon (of "Buffy the Vampire Slayer" film, "Toy Story," and much more) and starring Neil Patrick Harris. But, I like this Dr. Horrible guy, I understand him. I get why he made that freeze ray. Sigh. I would too if I had his skills. Instead, art it is.

With my freeze ray
I will find the time to
Find the words to

Tell you how
How you make
Make me feel
What’s the phrase?

Like a fool
Kind of sick
Special needs
Anyways...

Passive aggressive love notes

2009-04-20T12:04:00.009-05:00

My own words. It's not poetry. It's unapologetically sentimental and personal. And I'm calling this series "Passive Aggressive Love Notes and Other Unmentionable Thoughts." So yes, extremely sentimental, and personal.

(Untitled)

I don't want to stare at your feet all night

The other two can be found on my website and as more are done, they will be uploaded.

us.

2009-04-16T17:34:00.005-05:00

"A Self-Portrait with all of my friends"

White Rope

2009-04-16T17:03:00.014-05:00

These are just some of 20+ drawings I have so far in my "White Rope" series. All of these are 6" x 9" but I am starting to work in 11" x 14" format as well.

I'm hoping to get all of these drawings up (as well as older works and other series) on my site michellejanelee.com by the end of the month. Still working on the website, not yet ready for the "official" launch. Hopefully soon.

2

11

12

13

17

(This series is dedicated to all the Brave Korean girls. Especially Daisy Yoon Choi. Thank you for this friendship and inspiration.)

Daisy Sonobe

2009-04-16T11:40:00.001-05:00

Regina Spektor

2009-04-13T13:54:00.005-05:00

Regina Spektor just announced the release date for her next album "Far." Mark your calendars for June 23rd. I'm revisiting her songs again now, and I just can not wait. She's the innocent little girl with a big secret on mischievous adventures. Her music is a pretty girl giggling in your ear.

She'll also be kicking off a tour, catch it. I had the pleasure of seeing her on her last tour and she is the cutest gosh darn thing I ever did see, and oh, she's a pretty damn good musician too.

The video for "Fidelity" = LOVE.

Coming for you ready or not.

2009-04-09T18:05:00.007-05:00

Song- Girl in the Tower
Artist- Benji Hughes

I had a dream last night
About when you were mine
The streets ran red with blood
It mixed into the mud
You were a chamber maid in Spain

Swan Lake

2009-04-06T21:35:00.004-05:00

There's a shrine everywhere.
A single red rose tied to a tree.

20 cigarettes and a bottle of water-
the thirst and the smoke
in the back of your throat. The thumb
tap and clouds of white smoke. You
couldn't have been very tall. Small hands
like mine, but softer. Straight, jet black hair,
maybe down past your shoulders. The wind
blew through it. A curtain cascading.
The ripples, the slowly rising wave.

We could've been friends. And,
this might sound crazy, maybe we
could've been more. Now hear me out.
Sometimes it takes a crazy fuck like me,
to save anyone from a crazy world like this.

I smoked four cigarettes and went
down wrong side streets. I parked and sat
listening to the same two songs.
In my room I can see the city.
A make shift curtain out of a bed sheet.
You never made it to the first floor.
I would've carried you there if I knew.

This is so generic (and I'm sorry)
but I understand. It's good bye and
nice to meet you on the same day.
This is so generic (and I'm sorry)
but I'm glad I met you.
Is it silly to ask "how are you?"
Maybe a bit tacky, but I think
I finally see you smile.
No one tells you how to die
so fuck no one can tell you how to live
after the fall. So smile all you want to.
This is so generic (and I'm sorry)
but the hard part is over.

Do you mind if I know your face?
Sorry, I'm not the best at drawing, but
I'm trying. I hear your umma* crying.
I'm sorry I freeze up now and then.

I went down the wrong side street
with a cigarette and a can of sprite-
the thirst and the smoke
in the back of my throat. The thumb
tap and clouds of white smoke. I parked
and sat, listening to the same two songs.
Outside the car window I could see the city
and a single red rose tied to a tree.
There's a shrine everywhere.

*mom in Korean

Half Nelson

2009-04-04T14:53:00.002-05:00

Can't talk about Ryan Gosling and not bring up "Half Nelson." One of my favorite films of all time. Incredible. I don't want to talk about it too much. Just watch it. A warning- it will make you want to shrivel up in the corner of your room and just rock yourself back and forth at times... begging just to survive.

Dead Man's Bones

2009-04-04T14:39:00.008-05:00

Dead Man's Bones is two man band composed of actors Ryan Gosling and Zach Shields (I don't know who Zach is either...) I had heard and seen the video for the song "In the Room Where you Sleep" quite awhile ago. Though I enjoyed it, it didn't grab me.

Then today I came across another song, and a video, for "Name in Stone." And it is fantastic. The song and the video both.

I appreciate the feel, the mood, the theatrics of this band. I love that they do so well carrying the somber, haunting, dramatic yet whimsical mood through every aspects of the band experience. From the sound, to visuals, to names (the band name and song names.) And of course I love that children play a part in the music.

I raise my flag out into your heart you let the winds come tear it apart

DEAD MAN'S BONES - "NAME IN STONE" from biz3 publicity on Vimeo

Falling Slowly- 2AM

2009-04-03T17:45:00.005-05:00

"Once" is one of my favorite films of all time. The soundtrack, all the songs are deep in my heart.

I came across this video of a Korean Boy Band "2AM" covering the song "Falling Slowly."

I'm impressed. And I actually find find their Engrish cute. Go Korea! I keep finding cooler and cooler things from the Motherland and it makes me pretty damn proud.

Geoffrey Todd Smith at Western Exhibition

2009-04-03T16:52:00.003-05:00

I've mentioned Geoffrey Todd Smith on my blog before and I am super excited to check out his show at Western Exhibition.

Tonight is the opening night but the show runs until May 30th. Good thing because I'm gonna need to make several trips to soak all of it in. By the way, he gives his pieces the best titles. I wish I could be as cool, and as good, as him.

Opening Reception: Friday, April 3, 5-8pm
Gallery Hours: Wednesday to Saturday, 11am to 6pm
More info: 312.480.8390 scott@westernexhibitions.com

Geoffrey Todd Smith is Murdering the Rhythm like the RZA on Ritalin, 2009

ink and gouache on paper

20" h x 18"w

Geoffrey Todd Smith's Heart is a Deep Ocean of Secrets, 2009

ink and gouache on paper

22" h x 20"

Suicide Eye, 2008

ink and gouache on paper

31"x 29"

I had a Butterfinger Blizzard and some fries

2009-04-02T18:35:00.006-05:00

Really into this song right now. I do prefer the album version but this is still sweet. Benji Hughes is such a badass! Hundred million ways to break a heart, and that's the one you taught me...

you're beautiful but that's not the point.

2009-04-02T18:22:00.005-05:00

Let me be honest, the first read, I didn't care for this poem at all. In fact, I skimmed through it. I had no idea what she was saying, nor did I care. I thought, oh another smart-ass contemporary poet with her oh so clever format and casual, nonchalant, stream of consciousness-esque "Poem."

Well, something brought me back to it half an hour later. And, I understood. I nearly died. I'm afraid to read it again as I post it now. Because I know I'll have to gasp for air again.

Here I go...

Miniature Bridges, Your Mouth

what we do in the dark has no hands. no
crossover effect, no good-bye kiss after the alarm.
what we carry in, we carry out, end of story. this
doesn't even want to be love. except in minutes
when your face has the shape of my palm and I think
lungful. let want out with the cat. returns
and returns, something dutiful. persistent.
hold your breath, let it build, let go. this is practice.
I'm losing weight, a bad sign, I'm happy. serious,
you say. contained, I think. the cat comes back
with a dead bird to the doorstep, an offering. bloodless
this should be easy. a two-step to cowboys. you're beautiful
but that's not the point.

x

I know my way back perfectly well. like the back
of my hand, as it were. but look, the labyrinth walls
are high hedge and green. this also could be joy.

xx

I literally don't know your middle name. does that
matter? what systems we arrange for intimacy, small
disclosures like miniature bridges, your mouth. not
what I'd anticipated. softer. to begin with,
I should tell the truth more. I could miss you,
and that's a liability.

xxx

I am not often off-kilter. but you're so silent, even
naked, and almost absent. I hush too, why
are we here. go. want to throw things, you, the clock,
break windows until something bleeds and you finally
scream. I tell you too much; we are not
those people. or nothing--maybe I say
utilitarian fuck. how would that be. I want you
to want to fall in love with me and that's
unhealthy. wrong. leave your shoes by the door
and pretend it's about the movie. it's love
in the movies it's casablanca and toy story
and water no ice come here. pockets need
to be untucked, drawers thrown open,
nobody's safe. there, I've said it:
someone I was could have loved you.

- Marty McConnell

the dandy flâneur conflict

2009-03-27T21:47:00.005-05:00

"Baudelaire would be torn the rest of his life between the stances of flâneur and dandy, a disengaged and cynical voyeur on the one hand, and man of the people who enters into the life of his subjects with passion on the other."

-David Harvey

dandy

A ~~man~~ person who places particular importance upon physical appearance, refined language, and leisurely hobbies.

flâneur

The term flâneur comes from the French ~~masculine~~ noun flâneur—which has the basic meanings of "stroller", "lounger", "saunterer", "loafer"—which itself comes from the French verb flâner, which means "to stroll". Charles Baudelaire developed a derived meaning of flâneur—that of "a person who walks the city in order to experience it".

Easy Come, Easy Go

2009-03-26T21:39:00.001-05:00

I'm listening to a streaming of Marianne Faithfull's new album and damn, damn, damn this woman is incredible. She's only getting better with age. Her voice now is just out of this world, it's certainly not the angelic voice of hers from the 60s but certainly all of her history and life lived since then is layered, etched, and burned into her smokey, gritty and empowered voice. Looking at a photograph of her at age 60, she is stunning. I'm gonna go ahead and put her higher up on the list of women I want to grow up to be. How do these women do it? I'm pretty sure living your life passionately and uncompromisingly is the answer. I'm in.

Yes, please learn to draw

2009-03-25T17:17:00.004-05:00

As someone who's spent multiple 5+ hour sessions on making one single pencil drawing of a cup (with no handle, only after the cup with no handle was mastered did I move onto one with a handle) under the scrutiny of a very intense and at times scary art instructor and spent at least one day a week at the Art Institute of Chicago soaking in the old Masters while I was in school, I have a great appreciation and respect for technical ability and discipline in art. A much greater appreciation than most in this time and age.

I have to say this is a pretty cute advertising idea from London College of Communication. I'm not much impressed by the actual design of the sticker, nor do I know anything about this school. However, I would LOVE a stack of these stickers on me at all times, but just the arrow that reads "Learn To Draw." You'd see this sticker ALL over Chicago (and all the other places I get my little feet to land on) on the streets, inside coffee shops and even "galleries." I suppose any art, even bad art, is better than no art. Wait actually no, I don't think so, at all. Sorry.

man, man, man, man-eater

2009-03-22T19:25:00.001-05:00

Really? I mean, REALLY? Oh you you fiery ball of amazingsuperfantasticness, just stop it. I mean, no, don't stop, ever.

An incredible video for an equally incredible song.

The poet is one who is able to keep the fresh vision of the child alive.

2009-03-18T21:29:00.004-05:00

The best part of being a 26 year old kid?

You can buy your own toys!!!

King Prancer and Scooty Fritz Gerald

Also I can keep a big bowl of hard/fruity candies AND a big bowl of chocolate in my very own apartment at all times. Right now I'm about to pour myself a glass of red wine and devour 10,000 pieces of chocolate and stay up til 3 in the morning drawing. Growing up is so awesome.

It's getting old, I know, I know.

2009-03-16T19:30:00.004-05:00

(a HORRIBLE youtube video/image but trust me on this song.)

The band Swan Lake has been in heavy rotation these past few weeks since I discovered them. Especially so the song "A Hand at Dusk."

I have not sought out or written any poetry in quite awhile, but of course Poetry will always find us. These words are absolutely paralyzing-

there's a hand at dusk
in the wake in the water its mine
can you take the palm of it
for every time you change your mind
you are the flash of skin
seen through the leaves of anxious trees
the summer's touch just above the knee
just above the knee

I would love to be his state of mind when he wrote this song. I would love to see the things he saw inside his mind. This song is so rich, saturated in visuals. And the structure of it is so complex, so many different layers (listen to the song and you will understand what I mean.) But there is no climax. Each part is it's own climax. Steadily profound and powerful. Not surprisingly films and books I prefer are structured as such. No beginning, middle or end. No climax. Every page, every frame is an experience. Of course there is harmony and unity in the whole. But they are not working just for One/The experience, each stands its own yet understand the greater beauty in "together."

I have to admit, I am absolutely pathetic over the part in the song where he repeats:

It's getting old, I know, I know but you still look good to me in that knee-length checkered dress.
It's getting old, I know, I know but you still look good to me in that knee-length checkered dress.
It's getting old. It's getting old.

Korean Parents (for sale)

2009-03-02T20:23:00.000-06:00

Kids today got problems
Like their parents never had
Neighborhoods are dangerous
The public schools are bad
At home there are distractions
So irresistible
The hours fly by
No work gets done

Some Jewish kids still trying
Some white kids trying too
But millions of real American kids
Don't have a clue
Right here on the lot
We got the answer
A product guaranteed to satisfy

Korean parents for sale
You say you're not all
That you want to be
You say you got a bad environment
Your work at school's not going well

Korean parents for sale
You say you need a little discipline
Someone to whip you into shape
They'll be strict but they'll be fair

Look at the numbers
That's all I ask
Who's at the head of every class?
You really think
They're smarter than you are
They just work their asses off
Their parents make them do it

[Saleslady]:
Oh, learn to play the violin
Oh, to turn your homework
In right on time

What a load off
Your back that will be
No tears
No regret
Never forget who sent Fido
To the farm

The greatest generation
Your parents aren't
The greatest generation
So sick of hearing about
The greatest generation
That generation could be you
So let's see what you can do
Korean parents and you

"When We Are Children" drawings

2009-02-26T22:45:00.004-06:00

Right now I am working on three mini-series under the main series theme of "When We Are Children." They being "The Crown Princess and the Chamber Maid," "Eli and Oskar," and "Henry and June... and Anais." I'm a bit obsessed with the first of the three. I have about 15 drawings in progress for it taped onto my drawing studio wall that I take turns working on. The other two of the series I only have a couple drawings for each but definitely will develop further after I finish good amount of the princess and maid drawings. Here are examples from each-

The Crown Princess Age 8

Leader of the Pack

Henry and June

Oskar with Piñata Stick