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Sunday |
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| back in seattle and i don't know what to do with myself. have been posting stuff on ebay, determined to liquidate a lifetime of obsessive collecting (it started when i was a child--those coins, baseball cards and comic books are still with me). /// the clutter is stultifying after having had so little in my european apartment. /// last night i went to Jason Puccinelli's "Dazzle Camouflage" art opening where i was recruited to model in a "sexy-wall-street-bomber" diorama--I was a sweaty, strenuous stockbroker, screaming and gesturing, pure greed and aggression. /// today was rehearsal for Greg Lundgren's coming play, "I Am an Artist," where I portray a slick and cynical sell-out. /// what do these roles mean? where do they leave me? /// how about drinking 34-oz beers with jesse p. at the sloop discussing the futility of acquisition and then feeding 2 a.m. at beth's where we doodled on napkins? /// i overhead the waitress say to a patron just leaving his table: "...only 2 things I don't lend out--my name and my knife." /// and that was final. |
