this is my studio currently. sometimes cleaning things up feels so much like composing a picture that I’ll spend all day only doing that. other times I convince myself it’s better to make a picture. this tiny paradox is a long and brutal struggle and nobody is winning. 

Studio Fridays: Mostly Silent Edition 
what else can I say that hasn’t already been sad (sic) Studio Fridays: Mostly Silent Edition 
what else can I say that hasn’t already been sad (sic) Studio Fridays: Mostly Silent Edition 
what else can I say that hasn’t already been sad (sic) Studio Fridays: Mostly Silent Edition 
what else can I say that hasn’t already been sad (sic)

Studio Fridays: Mostly Silent Edition 

what else can I say that hasn’t already been sad (sic)

Studio Fridays: Like Wow (BARF and other things)

o i don’t know, idk, i don’t know.

Another art fair is happening in the city.

Actually a lot of them are happening. Pulse and Cutlog and Collective Design Fair. Frieze is the big one and its on an island that no one usually thinks about or goes to for art because it normally doesn’t have any— at least I don’t think so, where would they put it? Frieze has brought a big tent. 

A major thing people will talk about when heading to Randall’s Island to see Frieze is that you have to take a ferry to get there. Invariably someone will take a picture of themselves traveling to Frieze and upload it with the caption “I’m on a boat!”

I don’t know. 

Another ‘memorable’ thing is that the Artist Paul McCarthy made an 80 foot tall send up of ‘Balloon Dog’, which is sort of a ‘fuck you’ to Jeff Koons because idk, it’s bigger than a Jeff Koons ‘Balloon Dog’ which is actually made out of Stainless Steel. McCarthy’s Balloon Dog IS aCtUaLly maDE OUT OF (balloon)!!!!1

See how clever this is getting!? look out. idk.

Studio Fridays: Studio Dog

I have a dog named Samo who often kicks it in the studio with me. She occasionally collaborates by chewing on the stretcher bars or clay sculptures that catch her eye. It’s made me extra conscientious about leaving any edible materials below waist level. As a puppy Samo was once particularly inspired by a tube of cobalt green.

After a call with animal poison control we adjusted her diet and kept a close eye on her ‘street art’ for the next few hours. Interpreting the emotional range and communicative ability of any creature is surely a high art. But that night on the corner of South 1st and Kent, Samo took a bright green dump and was grinning to the moon. It was not quite the same ole shit. 

Studio Fridays: oof
All day melting, grinding, waiting for something to break open. Felt the softness of my brain. Kept thinking it might just ooze out my nose. Soft brain has felled the best of em, I keep saying in my tiny head that today is running itself like a shitty record label. 
Outside the sun was bright and the wind was crisp. 58 degrees is the perfect temperature said a man with white hair and big smile, ‘the air rests on your skin, and your skin won’t try to do anything about it.’ 
When the wind picked up my eyes started watering. Some imp in my head started yelling ‘I’m meeeeeelting’ then a bass line picked up, ‘Shut up dummy, shut up dummy’ and then I walked down the street listening to the inner producer mess with the track until it had some coherence. It wasn’t a good beat, but fuck it, throw it all up on a website and see if anything sticks. 

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Seinfeld called into NPR to talk about coffee. Come on Jerry. Too ‘on brand.’
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Closed my eyes a lot remembered being a little kid thinking about the back of my eye lids. Spent a little time remembering that sensation, but not actively thinking about them now. Found different ways to dance away from shame and solitude. 
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Kept trying to pull a coup and take charge and right this ship. Instead of progress I found different metaphors for inertia. Today my mind worked like a pile of slugs. 

Studio Fridays: oof

All day melting, grinding, waiting for something to break open. Felt the softness of my brain. Kept thinking it might just ooze out my nose. Soft brain has felled the best of em, I keep saying in my tiny head that today is running itself like a shitty record label. 

Outside the sun was bright and the wind was crisp. 58 degrees is the perfect temperature said a man with white hair and big smile, ‘the air rests on your skin, and your skin won’t try to do anything about it.’ 

When the wind picked up my eyes started watering. Some imp in my head started yelling ‘I’m meeeeeelting’ then a bass line picked up, ‘Shut up dummy, shut up dummy’ and then I walked down the street listening to the inner producer mess with the track until it had some coherence. It wasn’t a good beat, but fuck it, throw it all up on a website and see if anything sticks. 

Studio Fridays: Ugly Imagists 

Boston is in a state of martial law. There’s a homicidal Chechen American teenager loose who is not afraid to die. The internet has also been seized. The habitual vanity of a constantly refreshing newsfeed has now been given a heavy plot. 

I guess I’m getting in on this. I can’t seem to stop caring about it. The world is constantly happening in real time and it’s tragic. 

Studio Fridays: A New Life, Wow 

Wow, I am having nostalgic spasms - little surges of hot memory blinking then slouching back into coiled shells and now I realize I am deep in unforgiving waters.

Wow, I am remembering moving across decades, living whole lives in the small injuries of people I barely knew.

Wow, I am in a spaceship now, visiting an alien land where everything is exactly the same, except now I know it.

Wow- look at these fingerprints, my tiny personal waves. 

Studio Fridays: “I’m Exhausted!”

"I’m exhausted!" is a good way to start a conversation because everyone usually agrees and can empathize. It’s a way to get to the gut of it. The human condition, I mean. 

The opposite approach would be a good sociological experiment. Smile big and lead in with a full chested, “I’m so well rested!” Be prepared for befuddled looks of amazement. 

People brag about the wrong things. Taking naps is an extremely underrated luxury. 

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Right now I am so tired that my face feels like a heavy mask ready to slip off and expose my blobfish brain. The mucus in my eyeballs is made of slow drying Elmer’s glue.

I was in Harlem last night rehearsing a sketch about landing on Mars with Jon. He is great.

To get there I left dinner early from a place where the waiters all try to walk out with the food at the same time and put it on the table for everyone like it’s some kind of magic trick.

I finished the night at a strange bar with velvet ropes that made it unclear who was being kept from whom. I found myself playing some unnamed game, trying to slide a metal disk across a sandy plank of wood for points. At some juncture we stopped keeping score. It was charming how difficult the game was to master- so delicate and so meaningless. 

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Tilda Swinton sometimes sleeps in a big plastic box at art galleries and recently she did it at the MoMA. Good work Tilda - I am for this. I don’t want to hear an explanation of it. It makes sense. 

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Exhaustion distorts your perception of quality. It shouldn’t be trusted. Halfbaked, undercooked ideas feel qualified. They feel ‘good enough’… even better for their lack of completion. The willingness to leave before the job was finished- before the surface was even scratched. 

Studio Fridays: ‘Anyone who talks about their art in an elevator is a sociopath.’

Adam and I had lunch the other day at Isa, a farm to table sort of joint in Williamsburg. Overhead three helicopters kept circling the neighborhood and flying low and tight. Adam asked ‘What could three helicopters do that one couldn’t do?’

I was telling him about the project I’m producing with Steve Soroka- which is easiest to describe as a Brother & Sister comedy meets Sliding Doors with Gwenyth Paltrow. Are you laughing yet!?! The conceit sounds sticky but Steve’s writing is sharp and it flows.

The thing about telling stories, about describing your work in progress is that it often feels like the project itself is running away from you. It’s an effort to define a thing in motion. When I am most lucid and when it seems important that the person understands, I try to approach this like a physics problem with the equation and the variables explained, giving an indication of the expected result. Other times I am the detective describing the perpetrator. In the best cases, I am more like the victim.

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I remember an afternoon in grad school when my friend Francesco, who was just then becoming an abstract painter, skipped out on a lunch time lecture about professional practice. There was a sign up sheet and bullet points on how to start ‘building your career.’ Francesco raised his eyebrows when he got to the ‘elevator pitch.’

‘Anyone who talks about their art in an elevator is a sociopath.’

**************

Since deciding to produce this project, I have been talking with everyone I know who works in film or television or comedy about the best practices for bringing a thing into the world. Strong opinions on everything are flowing through my mind, contradicting, swallowing entire afternoons. We have given ourselves a strict deadline- the late submission for the New York Film pilot competition.

Do you like comedy? Want to work in the industry? Hey come be a PA on this project. The pay is lousy and the hours are terrible, but damn- the days will fly into a dreamlike mystery tunnel of optimism and purity, a devil may care attitude will consume your rational mind as you ponder the

It’s fairly amazing that anything ever gets made in highly collaborative creative fields. There are so many opportunities for art to fail, and so many issues that have to be resolved in fair and pragmatic ways.

For posterity I’m writing this, but also because I think it’s true:

My job is to allow Steve to do what he’s best at. It’s an exciting thing to enable and empower someone whose work you admire. Over the last year and a half I have seen him consistently find the funny in the ethers of improv.

I’m thrilled to be working with him on this. Steve seems to assume that later we will fight to the death over a saltine cracker. Isn’t that how these things have to go? But currently we are in a productive and panic induced bliss state.

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Since joining the PIT House Sketch team a few weeks ago I have been working on unique ways to fit more time in the day. One life hack is memorizing lines while I walk my dog and run other errands.

On the plus side this has a calming effect on the otherwise chaotic spiral of worry, contempt, fear, lust, confusion, etc., that generally consumes my inner dialogue between the times I’ve set aside for applied outlets for those things.

On the negitive it has turned me into a raving public lunatic. In one sketch I play a vampire named Vladimir. The voice I’ve given him is an exaggerated Leslie Neilsein cartoon of a vampire - and so now I am walking down the streets by myself speaking in a high vampire saying ‘Children of the Darkness, Brothers and Sisters, tonight we dine on human flesh!”

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Pictured above is a shot from my studio where we hosted a passover Seder. I am not jewish but I love someone who is and so this happened. It was extremely fun, which I’m told is not the adjective most often associated with a Seder.

I am currently in Sarasota Florida to celebrate easter? which should give you an idea of the cultural relativity and contradiction I’m gorging on. I’m writing the end of this post in a kind of frantic pace as my nieces and nephews work on sharing toys and dancing. My life is increasingly a disconnected series of ******** vignettes ******* with only the slenderest ****** moments of ******** continuity.

Maybe someday I will settle into a comfortable groove and google my old habits and laugh at the chaos. Maybe I will be able to summarize my plot lines and story arcs in a sensible and exciting way.

As it stands I am circling erratically, scouting targets, chasing every instant with some giggling abandon. I think I know what the third helicopter is for.

Studio Fridays: Another Shit Show

Anna and I made a pact to see the Basquiat show today. Even so I think she was surprised to see me which is understandable because any plans made at an art opening are usually more like sketches than final drafts. Also Will’s exhibition was titled “Another Shit Show,” and it was that. More on that Shit later

Studio Fridays: OMG IS LIKE DEAD

We are playing a friendly game of poker in a high-rise over looking ground zero and someone asks about the lines to visit the memorial. Rex tells us that you have to book reservations ahead of time and also that if you know the right people you can get a private tour. Very Important Grievers. 

Studio Fridays: Madcap sketches of Armory Week

The painting above is by a guy named Jonathan Meese. He seems like a real trip. Meese is some german version of an emotionally unstable Dave Grohl. I consider him my new fashion icon. he’s not okay. I like him. 

His painting stood out to me because it was big and angry and silly and he made a swastika on it which is truly taking a dump on a thing you’re in theory trying to sell. Watch the video above to hear his rationale behind this and also his leering psychobabble and riff on scarlet johansson as pure art. 

I’m not saying his work is heroic. It just stood out given the context. I do like the paintings in the end. He seems genuinely fucking crazy in a good way I guess. He is a raging ambivalent. 

Studio Fridays: The Steve Martin, Comedy and Art, It’s All Really Happening Edition

The image above is from a series of paintings I’ve been making in a kind of manic art brut die brucke sludge core attack attack attack sort of way. I am happy with the results in the confines of my studio but I’m not sharing much of them for fear that sunlight will melt the wax heart of my inner monster. To be continued…

Studio Fridays: Smells like Tumblr Spirit

Here are some loosely connected thoughts on Truth, Improv, Hyperallergic’s Tumblr Art Symposium, Kurt Cobain, more, etc. If your media diet is unstable, this post might not be for you. It’s undercooked and erratic. Let me tell you about my busy week:

Artlog featured my series “Studio Fridays.” Go check it out and hang out over there for a while—Artlog has great features on things that are happening, up coming, and worth checking out. For example:

Nick Cave is going to have these wild horselike creatures dancing through Grand Central station courtesy of Creative Time

NICE!