Showing posts with label Hate. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Hate. Show all posts

2010/05/16

Graphic Tee Party

Yesterday I walked around LES for a bit, I remembered the Obey Pop-up Store that had temporarily parked on Orchard. I hadn't visited yet and apparently today was a book release party for some artist; Name Tagging was the book's title. On my way to Orchard, I found an opening reception on the corner of Bowery and Stantion. It seemed like a hole in the wall invaded by multiple canvasses and appreciators of said canvasses, along with variable scenesters and the absence of music. I walked in and immediately hated what I saw. Smeared paint of light colors on canvas with these weird odd shaped circles that seemed stuck on and painted over; each piece had one of these circles, I soon noticed. Then I realized what the circles were, after which I found two pieces that were cool.


This was one:

Sitting the Cook at the Dinner Table


The artist had taken t-shirts and stretched them over each canvas and painted over the fabric of the shirts. Some of the pieces utilized screen-printing which was like saying if so-many artists use a t-shirt design technique on canvas, why not bring the t-shirt itself in on it? After all, t-shirts love art too.


The weird circles were actually the head-holes of the t-shirts. And while I felt some of the screen-printed pieces were interesting or just nice to look at, there were far more pieces that I didn't like, that just seemed like I was expected to have been impressed solely on the fact that they were painted on a t-shirt stretched over canvas. But I'm sure other people were into it and they probably hated the pieces I liked, but whatever...thats art. I didn't want to know the artist's name, I didn't pick-up the info-sheet by the make-shift gallery's entrance, nor did I start any engaging conversation to see what anyone else thought about any of it. I kept my headphones on and Synchronicity was convincing me I want to have an affair with an older, married woman.

2009/12/13

First Scene Dissolve

Anonymous Love Letters to Athena

I'm so tired. My legs barely stand me and there is a hunger inside that echoes tumultuously, with tempest of most concrete vigor do I move about. Hatred is my propeller; my engine, a glowing heart erupting with magma and fumes of shame. The few times I saw you today (I try to see less and less), it was as if, my hatred were offered a compromise. As if noted by my palely apparent countenance, one of deprived honor and starved dignity, a pathetic hand was extended forward with a cupcake.


My sweet tooth and all its fallen graces!


Its an insult! One perfectly visible and recognized, yet how I long to reach for you; such a waist to not have.


I took a break and on a street, under a canopy, I stood. The rain was cold but the air warmer. I had space and my lungs went to work on the early night's dew. You walked out with a colleague, speaking. I wanted some water, it was raining all around me; I was the thirsty, drowning man. It took every bit of each lung to punch my chest forward; every wattage of street lights, to keep my eyes from parking on you.


You are all they have to offer me, and it is true that you are indeed a great offer; but I can't--it wears me out. My fake plastic love, do you understand? It wears me out. I need this hatred and these lungs to roar, snatch, claw, and tear at the winds that so eagerly wish to pass me by. I need my tension, my open eyes that sleep and cry very little but do only absorb, greedily, everything in its path.


Its with love that I must leave you, its with further hate that the action springs awake into motion.


Universally yours,

Une Ammiratore

2009/12/03

Lonely Entanglements

Here is a lyric/poem collage, it contains parts of lyrics by Deftones, Lhasa, and Cage; excerpts from the film, Gilda, and a poem by Pablo Neruda. The two photos are by Grace-Kim's series of pictures entitled, Love Hotel.


I'm Her New Cool Meat


Stop I'm drunk


Got you where I want you

Got you where I want you


Luminous mind, bright Devil

of absolute clusterings, of the upright noon--:

here we are at last, alone...


Stop I'm drunk

without loneliness,

far from the savage city's delirium.


But hate can be a very exciting emotion. Very exciting. Haven't you ever noticed that?...There is heat in it, that one can feel. Didn't you feel it tonight?...I did. It warmed me. Hate is the only thing that has ever warmed me.


Just as a pure line describes a dove's curve,

as the fire honors and nourishes peace,

so you and I made this heavenly outcome.

The mind and love live naked in this house.


Now my jaw and my teeth hurt. I'm choking from gnawing on the ball. And just before I come to move to the back of the car she makes me touch the machine. New murderer.


Lovely Lady Spider loves you best

Begs you to come live in her own nest

Feed you clothes you gives her heart to you


Just as pure...fire...nourishes peace...

Hate is the only thing that has ever warmed me.


Stop I'm drunk


Got you where I want you


Its like the sky opened and God handed you directly to me!


Furious dreams, rivers of bitter certainty,

decisions harder than the dreams of a hammer

flowed into the lovers' double cup,

Lonely Spider waiting in her web

Hoping she can catch some happiness

Then who should stumble into here but you


First untie me (Stop! I'm drunk) untie me for now. You said you would, right? And you were right (stop I'm drunk!)


Got you where I want you

Soon I'll let you go


Got you where I want you

Soon I'll let you go


until those twins were lifted into balance

on a scale: the mind and love, like two wings.

--So this transparency was built


Feeling like your heart is beating, its only for me!


Stop I'm drunk

2009/10/27

Put the Blame on Mame

Gilda - (1946) Directed by Charles Vidor

Starring Rita Hayworth, Glenn Ford, George Macready,

Joseph Calleia


Gilda, are you decent?


Rita Hayworth stunningly stings as the title character in this 1946 film noir classic. Gilda is the type of girl you hear about in a Deftones song, an Rx Queen. In fact, White Pony would make an interesting soundtrack for the constant knife party between Rita Hayworth's Gilda and Glenn Ford's Johnny Farrell.


I hate you so much that I would destroy myself to take you down with me.


Hate is a powerful and, as the film states, "exciting" emotion. To have hate is to have love, the line between both is thin and translucent. To hold something to such an esteem as hate or love is to extremely wind up your feelings to a heightened sensitivity, so tightly pressured that at any sudden relief the hold snaps. This is why the slightest disappointment with a lover can easily slip into hate or why in contrast, the obsession of hatred becomes as consuming as love until it is warped into love, a harsh, violent explosion of love.


I hate you so much I think I'm going to die from it. Darling...I think I'm going to die from it.