I’m taking it Jonas told me on the 504A because it’s a good line. You didn’t think of it he said you said it and you would’ve let it go. I the curator saw the value. Yes but it’s mine I said because I said it.
The line was as follows I’m looking for another Monet with a hideous body of work. We were preparing our speeches for the funeral of esteemed poet Peter Norman of similar once-removed relation to us both. Jonas too was a poet or so he fancied himself to be and I was no poet so there was another thing working in his favour vis à vis the thieving of the line. Read more →
but if I didn’t say good
night now I’d spend
all night telling you
about the dog
playing frisbee at the park. It was fluffy
and bad at catching Read more →
We set off in the canoe around noon, at the mouth of a filthy creek in Queens, intent on circumnavigating Rikers Island, the largest prison complex in North America. It was an act of protest, a symbolic gesture, an allegorical feat, whatever you want to call it, but also an attempt, in a physical way, to get a grasp on what we were up against. We wanted to see the beast from all sides, to complete a loop, to call it a drawing, and to gesture toward the tens of thousands of souls locked inside—to see if it was even possible. Read more →
Only when there’s no room left to paint will the painting become a room. Read more →
