Art is Anal

What’s happened? Oh, just a little thing called PRACTICALLY EVERY COOL ARTIST I KNOW OF COMING INTO TOWN AND HANGING OUT WITH ME. Started with Nicole’s show at UMMA, which was a huge hit out of the ballpark, especially since Allison, Nicole and I were the only non-Q-Tips there. I got drunk and a gallerist stole my matches. Following, we went to a restaurant with the artists, museum folk, and hangers-on and were shunned. SHUNNED. Allison and I, I mean. Nicole was the toast of the evening sitting all fancy at her fancy table with her new fancy friends. (Faux-bitterness, there. I actually had an amazing time going through these picture-card booklets for getting help in countries where one doesn’t speak the language? Diana sent them to me. I love her.)

This week, Becky came up mostly to make sweet love to Portland’s most eligible sushi chef but also to go to the beach with me, where she drew a picture of me wherein I look partly like myself and partly like a fat baby. It’s my innermost, honestly. That’s the core of all good portraiture, they say.

One night I drank two bottles of wine and got a ride home because I’d forgotten my bike lock key, and then decided to run—literally RUN—all the way back to Allison’s and then ride my bike home. I did this because earlier in the day, say 7:34AM, she and I had witnessed someone smash a window on a car parked near State and Deering Streets so I had some lingering paranoia about leaving my precious Motobecane out on the street for anyone to vandalize or malign in any form. Anyway, all this exercise made me tired. I went to bed, because that’s the kind of crazy and wacky person you’ve all come to know and tolerate.

Most recently my design block has come un-stuck (all’s I did was go through a bunch of Photoshop tutorials and learn a few new things until I started coming up with my own little variations and so forth) and so we are closing in on a redesign of the Foneshow website. I’m excited about this, because I feel that it could be glorious, and would like to catalyze its gloriousness.

Droning on like this, it occurs to me that I haven’t podcasted in a great while. I’ll rectify that through a mouthful of Commit lozenges later tonight. At my listeners’ peril.