4/25/2009




BRADDOCK LIGHT SHOW

Unseasonably warm temperatures this weekend made Friday evening one of those dreamy occurrences that for all intents and purposes make Pittsburgh ground zero for unpretentious artistic culture. Unsmoke Artspace, a converted Catholic school in the heart of Braddock (and right across the street from United States Steel’s Edgar Thompson Plant) opened up two floors and a large outside space (complete with the most primitive of art, a pit fire), to an assortment of installations and performance that revealed themselves in places of discovery that made the entire exhibit a kind of gleeful treasure hunt as one roamed around the grounds. It reminded me in no small part of the 1998 Horsehead show at Magnuson Park in Seattle that left a profound impression on me as one of the more magical art events in my lifetime. This evening is a close second.


4/18/2009






C. KLEID PRINTS AT THE EVER-WONDERFUL A.I.R.

Week one: C. Kleid mixes ink to match color laser proof for her David Sedaris poster. Week two: Laying down the black overprint for sublime results as a marching band rehearses in the room next door.

3/17/2009


THE 25th ANNUAL POSSUM-SKINNING CONTEST

2/07/2009







CARTS OF WINTER

Nears Swissvale, across the street from the Taco Bell and Applebees.


2/01/2009



PART 9 - THE LAST OF WINTER

. . . The strange, melancholy dreams and visions were passed on to others, and they in turn would give them away when the time had come. . .


1/20/2009



JANUARY 20TH, 1990

I remember GWB’s inauguration, eight, fucking years ago. I was still in my mid 30s.


1/15/2009



PART 8

. . . A few weeks later a large storm passed through the region. A man coming home from work had stopped by the store for some groceries, and was on his way to his apartment when he found himself unsure of where he was, and what he was doing. He stayed this way for quite some time, listening to the snow falling and the sound beyond it. He would later have trouble accounting for the time he had lost, and this would perplex him for months to come, until he eventually forgot about it . . .