Lessons in Peripatetics

Pause: Lima

2008-06-25T03:40:00Z

Pause again, this time in the otherwise unremarkable courtyard of my lima apartment.

Pause: Lima

2008-06-25T03:40:00Z

Pause again, this time in the otherwise unremarkable courtyard of my lima apartment.

the nazca lines: good art

2008-06-17T02:48:22Z

if you fly over nazca, peru you can see a series huge geoglyphs scattered across the desert. if you even notice them from the ground they look like shallow trenches, but when viewed from above the trenches organize themselves into monkeys, hummingbirds, and spiders.

no one knows why they were made. most experts think they served a religious purpose. others think they were astronomical timekeepers. a few say the lines were made by extraterrestrial life forms. no one but me seems to think that it looks like the monkey has a stick up its butt.

the point is, any drawing that some people seriously attribute to aliens is pretty good art.

coca museum, puno: not actually about coca

2008-06-14T07:24:50Z

Puno's Coca Museum bills itself as "Peru's only museum dedicated to the rich history and varied uses of the coca plant."
inside, a visitor will find a gauntlet of garishly dressed mannequins with frightening faces.

maybe it's a recreation of the effects of the coca leaf? like those drunk driving simulators with the crazy goggles and golf carts?

every once in a while there's a glass case with a diorama or cultural artifact. this one contains a "lucky midget" who brings money, candy, and coca. also a frog.

all in all, the best Peruvian museum i've been to so far.

wish you were here: live blogging an art show

2008-06-07T02:05:00Z

5:44 lauren checks in and everyting looks great. this webcam thing is kind of delayed and awkward, but funny.
5:50 david maccarthy comes by, fresh off a flight from venezuela.
6:15 watching the girl in the leggings and the boy in the black tee and boy in bumble bee polo shirt listen to the karaoke. they dont' know I can see them. faces. guy in the bumble bee shirt is nice - web chats are so weird.
6:15 "empties and weirdos," they don't know i can hear them...
6:21 Hamlett! american tv and
6:30 leonard curry is going to Israel
6:34 the kid in the bumblebee shirt says he once stole a computer, immediately becomes more interesting to me.
6:35 people are talking...they don't know i can hear them.
6:37 erin harmon talks shop like always. very professional. very great.
6:39 marknowellart.com and he's wearing a shirt that matches the show and his mustache might be curly...
6:45 Carissa and Grayson and Phoebe...so nice.
6:51 donna and brit
7:02 big cat and meyers
7:04 rob dove - the one and only.
7:09 eva, who works too much but understands just enough.   she bogarts the webcam, but it's ok.
7:14 big cat and LA again, BC teaches bigness in atlanta now. fitting.
7:22 john weeden is tall and i can only see from his nose to his belt, but "Show and Tell" should happen very soon.
7:26 a stranger and a karaoke fan talk but don't know I can hear...
         "he's from Arkansas. Can you believe it?"
7:29 girl in blue waves, looks away, waves, looks away. laughs. waves, looks away. what is your name, girl in blue?
7:34 kyle says everyone at the show is preternaturally beautiful. that's the kind of crowd i attract.
7:35 hettinger
7:42 apparently it's cooler outside than inside.
7:43 "what is this thing? I don't understand...
    I don't know, but he's waving...
I'm waving back.
He's laughing...can he hear us? Wave. Wave! He can hear us!"
7:45 the children of the Dobbins
7:47 Hamlett's mom (whose birthday is today) - "be safe" - just like a mom.
7:48 Lauren from New York is here. Hi.
7:50 Heather D. says "be safe" just like her mom. strange how similar they are...
7:52 Steve says "Thank God" and i do.
7:57 Marie Lindquist! she is still tall and very excited.
7:32 paul and eva taunting and on their way to quick chek.
8:02 guy i don't know says thanks. that's nice.
8:04 ...dry spell...i must look awkward just sitting here...
8:10 Joseph Morris biked on over - apparently piper dandy almost lost an eyelash over my self portrait in boots. miss that one, joe.
8:18 Laura Caroline Johnson refers to Mallory Thornberry, whom everyone misses.
8:19 "last time I saw you it was at the farmer's market" - they don't know I can hear them...
8:29 sini nwaobi is very late and might come to peru - can't see her face but love her voice.
8:32 Lauren kicks me off. good show every one.

Wish you were here: appendixes for an art show

2008-06-06T00:11:00Z

Appendix A: My parents, relational aesthetics, and Relational Aesthetics

In the course of my research for the work in this show it became evident that I needed to read Relational Aesthetics, Nicolas Bourriard's seminal text concerning methods of artistic production "which take as their theoretical and practical point of departure the
whole of human relations and their social context, rather than an
independent and private space."  I was unable to obtain a copy in South Africa, so I had a copy mailed to my parents' house in Arkansas and asked them to read it for me and pass on any pertinent information.  The following is my mother's response, which I'm pretty sure is better than the book.

Dear Joel,
 
This may be the hardest thing you have asked me to do.  Reading
this book has made me feel like I was back in Jr. High and struggling
with geometry.  That was the only time I remember your father getting
frustrated with me, as he tried to tutor me to a passing grade.
 
I must confess that Relational Aesthetics is a book I
have struggled to read and I am only half-way thru. The subject is one
I don't understand and most of the words are beyond me, even with the
glossary in the back.  I find myself looking for things to do, ironing,
vacuuming, dusting etc..., instead of reading.  And that makes me feel
guilty because your request is a simple one and I want to understand
what draws you to this form of art.  I look forward to sitting across
from you as you try to explain what I have read.  
 
This is not "art" to me.  Although I am sure you already know
that!  Maybe its my conservative, small-town, bible-belt upbringing
that only allows me to view art a certain way.  Why is rigging chairs
in a cafe to play music after a certain amount of people sit down art
and not a science or behavioral project?  What is the "artist" hoping
to convey?  Is this a from of art that only a few will ever
understand?  Will I ever understand it?
 
Whether I do or don't I am so proud of you for following your
heart and not conforming to your upbringing as I did.  Your
fearless example is leading me to look at my life and the world around
me in a new way.
 
I love you,
mom
 

Appendix B: Crime in South Africa

A survey...compiled by the United Nations Office on Drugs and Crime ranked South Africa second for assault and murder (by all means) per capita and first for rapes per capita, worldwide. Total crime per capita is 10th out of the 60 countries in the dataset. 
-source

Appendix C: Orange

The color orange (or saffron) is associated in India with holy pilgrims.  In order to identify themselves pilgrims often wrap themselves in orange robes and may carry triangular orange flags with them on their journeys to holy sites, which are draped in strings of orange flags and banners.  On the Indian national flag the orange band at the top represents both courage and sacrifice, two qualities of the pilgrim.
-source

Appendix D: Nobody Wants to be Lonely

as performed by Ricky Martin and Christina Aguilera, written by Gary Burr with lyrics by Victoria Shaw

Why, why, why
Oh ooh ohh

There you are, in a darkened room
And you're all alone, looking out the window
Your heart is cold and lost the will to love
Like a broken arrow
Here I stand in the shadows
In the shadows
Come to come, come to me
Can't you see that

(chorus)
Nobody wants to be lonely
Nobody wants to cry
My body's longing to hold you
So bad it hurts inside
Time is precious and it's slipping away
And I've been waiting for you all of my life (ohh)
Nobody wants to be lonely
So why (why), why don't you let me love you
Why (ooh ohh yeah), why (oh why), why

Ooh ooh, yeah

Can you hear my voice, do you hear my song
It's a seranade, so your heart can find me, ohh
And suddenly you're flying down the stairs
Into my arms, baby, ohh
Before I start going crazy
Going crazy, ohh
Run to me
Run to me
Cause I'm dying...

(chorus)

Why, why don't you let me love you
I wanna feel you need me
Feel you need me
Just like the air you're breathing
Breathing, I need you here in my life
Don't walk away, don't walk away
Don't walk alway, don't walk away
No, no, no, no...
Nobody wants to be lonely
Nobody wants to cry...yeah yeah

(chorus x2)

Why (why), let me love you
Why don't you let me love you
Why, love you, let me love you

Appendix E: Drawings after (and before) an installation: Pilgrim's Progress

ten things twenty four

2008-06-05T01:44:00Z

products and services that I have consumed or taken advantage of that contain the word "Inka" which in actuality probably have little or nothing too do with the pre-Colombian South American empire:
cola
budget hostel accommodation
pancakes
second class bus service to Lima
seafood platter
toilet paper
gum
radio station

when the driver stood up in front of everyone before we embarked and took a breathalizer test and then passed the results around the bus, somehow it didn't really put my mind at ease.

my new friend Jesus Casanova sat down beside me on the bus to Huaraz and said things every once in a while. the following is a list of all the things that i understood:
look at that man with a small hat.
look at that dirty pig.
look at that.
take a picture of me with your camera.
look at that factory.

This is the most important artist in all of Chuaraz.

you can tell he's important because of the bust-length sculptural portrait.
you can tell he's an artist because of the rakishly angled beret.

chavin trek

that's a car battery on a donkey.

from what i can gather, at some point in the past there was a massive earthquake that dislodged a massive chunk of glacier that slid down a mountain and killed everyone in the valley settlement of Yungay - everyone except the few people who were able to take refuge at the highest point in the city - this cemetery. the only living found among the dead.

long-haul bus travel affords one a cube of designated personal space, constant visual stimulation combined with a gentle rocking motion, efficient meals with such specific silverware, and no expectation of productivity. really, it's ideal.

10.

on the bus on the way home
B-29, I-04, N-14, G-22, O-19
and I won a cheap bottle of whiskey with a broken seal.
Busdriver Breathalizer, where are you now?

ten things twenty three

2008-05-19T21:11:00Z

I usually work in a direction until I know how to do it, then I stop.  At the time that I am bored or understand — I use those words interchangeably — another appetite has formed. A lot of people try to think up ideas. I’m not one. I’d rather accept the irresistible possibilities of what I can’t ignore.  

Anything you do will be an abuse of somebody else’s aesthetics. I think you’re born an artist or not. I couldn’t have learned it. And I hope I never do because knowing more only encourages your limitations.

- RIP RR

no one, not even science, knows if squids have beaks

in my apartment i have:  
an electric hot water shower that shocks you if you adjust the metal knob that controls water flow while standing under the water, an aggressive army of ants, acrylic/cotton combo sheets that cause me to wake up with fresh abrasions every morning, and a really cool fridge with spinning shelves.

the sky in lima.  every.  day.

i might have been entangled in a gnarly sunrise bar fight over the honor of a peruvian senorita.  
or i might have woken up with a stye in my eyelid.

sticker drawings

the lunchtime regular:
langostino tequenos con avo, ceviche mixto con arroz y papas, y cristal.  por favor. 

10.

work in progress

Thoughts on having a maid, written as she cleans my stuff

2008-05-13T20:08:00Z

Thoughts on having a maid, written as she cleans my stuff

Thoughts on ‘Thoughts on having a maid, written as she cleans my stuff’

Thoughts on Thoughts on ‘Thoughts on having a maid, written as she cleans my stuff’

etc.

I hope I cleaned up enough before she got here. I don’t want her to think I’m a dirty American slob and I don’t want her to have to work more for me than she does for other people. I wonder if other people pre-clean. I wonder if she does their dishes too. I wonder if she chats with them.

Really? I don’t want her to think I’m a slob? So I ‘clean’? Or do I actually hide my stuff so she doesn’t think that I have a lot of stuff, because I like my stuff, and I don’t want her to steal it. And because maybe I feel a little guilty for having so much.

Why do I assume that all poor people are thieves? I know in my head that they aren’t. I have a liberal arts education for cripesake. I have friends who are homeless.

I have friends who are homeless? That’s like saying “Oh, I’m not racist. I have a black friend.” This is hopeless.

What am I supposed to do while she cleans? I want to watch TV (Pushing Daisies is on), but I don’t want to just sit around and do nothing while she cleans around me. I feel like I should be working while she works, but it’s Sunday afternoon and I’m tired from waking up early to pre-clean. I'll watch TV on my computer - it looks like I’m working but I’m actually not. Our relationship is about compromise. That’s healthy.

Is lack of time the only justifiable reason to hire a maid? Is the fact that I could very well be doing exactly what she is doing right now, I just have enough money to choose not to what’s really bothering me? I didn't even hire her. She came with the apartment!

Did the three episodes of Gossip Girl that I watched assuage any of my guilt about this? No. At the time it was mindless escapist internet TV, but now that I think about it, watching a TV show about a bunch of sodden, entitled prepsters on my shiny white laptop while a Peruvian woman mops around me makes me feel empty inside. I should have watched a Ken Burns documentary or something.

I keep trying to make eye contact and smile at her but she refuses to look me in the face. This makes me feel like a terrible white overlord, like I should be wearing supple leather boots and white gloves and using a riding crop to point to the cobwebs that she missed. I don’t even own a riding crop. I should offer her some tea.

Tea. Tea to span the great chasms of culture and language and class. Great idea. maybe she can shine my riding crop while the kettle’s on.

I can’t just get up in her face and yell “Rise up, woman! Seize the means of production!” I don't even know how to say that in Spanish. Small steps.

How long has she been here already? An hour? Two? Ok, actually twenty minutes. This apartment is huge and I live here alone. I have five more rooms than I need. This is awful.

Ok, so fire her to clear your conscience. Then she gets less money to support her family. Good plan. Don’t be stupid. You have money and work that needs to be done, she has time to work and needs money. WWAynRandD? She would hire twelve more maids, smoke a bunch of cigarettes, and then hire twelve more.

So I just wikipediaed Ayn Rand, and she is maybe not the greatest role model.

I know I just heard the sound of my suitcase being unzipped. Why is she opening my suitcase, which was under my bed?

Hidden under my bed. Because it has all the stuff in it that I don’t want stolen. And she could really hide a lot of electronics under that full ethnic skirt of hers. Dear sweet Jesus, if she’s stealing my stuff, so help me...

Why do I care so much? I should let her liberate me from my earthly possessions and then thank her for helping me focus on what’s important.

Ok, that last part is crap. I’m very attached to stuff. I am an artist. I could never be Buddhist.

So it turns out she folded all my dirty clothes and was putting them away in my suitcase for me.

I feel like an ass.

Still feel like an ass. Tea and chocolate? Tea and chocolate and a wad of cash? Is that insulting? Will this awful cleanliness never cease?

ten things twenty two

2008-05-02T07:02:32Z

a going away present

2) fourteen hours in transit and i smell more like myself than i ever have before.

3)

If I’m ever in charge of setting the menu of a museum restaurant, I would serve chili dogs. After a long, hard day of looking at art and thinking about art and reading wall texts about art and drawing about art and looking at people looking at art I don’t want watercress. I don’t want fennel. I don’t want a balsamic reduction. I want a beefy, sloppy, nasty chili dog with cheese and onions and anything else I can think of piled on top. Like bacon, sour cream, or small cheeseburgers. I want this.

4) MGMT

5)

the crypt keepers are cats. the crypt keepers are cats!

Do not burn yourself out. Be as I am-a reluctant enthusiast... a part time crusader, a half-hearted fanatic. Save the other half of yourselves and your lives for pleasure and adventure. It is not enough to fight for the land; it is even more important to enjoy it. -Edward Abbey

away from here we can quickly ride

because I love you I will never deride
love washes over us like the ocean tide
let love ride, let love ride
(x3)
and when I feel you
it's the child inside that cries
(x ad nauseam)

- my buenos aires music school dropout(possible coke fiend)dorm-mate's first composition

you can watch entire seasons of american television on the internet (in one sitting, even), and you don't have to feel bad about it unless you want to.

10)

then i put the carpenters on repeat and rode the subte for two hours. adios, buenos aires.