Wednesday, March 24, 2010

Art Projects

He'll tear your lungs out Jim!

Rip your guts out.

Ripped guts.

Magnetic tape and electronics.

She lay on her stomach on the bed, he stood behind. Suddenly, in a voice he hadn't heard before, a high whine burst from her mouth, vaguely Japanese, something about 'fuck me'. She glanced back over her shoulder and quickly looked forward again. A mouthful of vomit burped it's way up and out his mouth onto her.

I dreamt I was living further out in the country. I went for a walk. Jake's dad, the landlord, asked me how everything was. I looked back and saw the grass was cut. 'Pretty good" I said. I didn't need any more from him. I received a parcel from Rob, then later from Russell's facebook music profile. He had a stage name that started with an 'A' and some art work that was cleaner than what I had on my page, a page he had left. His page was black. I took the parcel to my room. There was a black leather ten gallon cowboy hat and boots, as well as white dress pants and a coat jacket. There were perfumes and things stuffed in the jackets pockets. The perfumes' glass bottles cracked and spilled on the white jacket, I could smell the cheap samples. I emptied the pockets until the lining started coming out, there was some type of maggot in the pocket. I took off the hat and noticed there was a clump of the tarnished bugs stuffed into its top.

The stereo had been ouside Mom's for a long time, Brent had put it out there. It was becoming night time now. I thought of how the neighbourhood kids must respect me. I turned the stereo up loud and checked the speakers. I was thinking about where to put them. It sound to me like only one of the speakers was working. I rocked the stereo around, and it started coming apart in pieces, the smallest functional unit of which I noticed was smaller than the cassette player I use.

Later on inside, Mike's hanging around with this one 'cool' guy who I'm not sure of, and at least two other guys, maybe Tom and Brian. The cool guy is leading the conversation, I almost take in the scene like I'm on a trip. I'm in a rocker doing something, keeping busy or thinking of something to say while he entertains. It's almost like watching a psychedelic trip, as though the house has been picked up in a tornado of late night tie-dye. Mike doesn't say much. The party starts warming up, maybe people are drinking. The cool guy comes and sits next to me, and lays a scraped banana skin on my lap while he rolls a doobie and talks to me about pitching in on the dope. I balk, a little taken aback. The rest of the party seems to look forward to the drugs, it seems Evan has arrived. Mike mentions something about me being ok with their Saturday night thing, or their weeknight thing which leads me to wonder how long these guys have been coming over to my Mom's house. As long as they're ok with the difference, I'm ok with the difference.

The cool guy leaves the living room. Mike comes over to my side of the room and sits on the floor. He's all buddy buddy and talks about the next six years. I had previously emailed him to see if he was interested in coming to NSCAD. It seemed like he was, I mentioned we'll be able to do projects again. He puts his arm around my shoulder in a friendly way. He says something about experimenting, or alludes to homosexuality. He's put a smile on my face. We share a few words about Jim being conservative. Mike leaves the room. Tom says something about Mike sure loving his bango. I ask him what that is. Tom starts pounding his knees in time while saying 'bang bang bango bang this is what I'm doing'.

For a time I'm checking out the white jaket, it's my old Forever Plaid jacket. It's really terribly tailored but I feel like a rock star in it. I'm also wearing some type of full body piece that's been knit together from gold wool. It's basically falling a part, and I end up pulling it in two. I'm also wearing a black body suit beneath it all, torn at the knees, and possibly a garnet top.

Maybe this will get me up and moving.

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