Anodyne
Saturday, February 09, 2008
 

Pacific Magnolia, 2006-8
 

A found photograph I really wish I'd made
 

Oh we’re so disarming darling
Everything we did believe is diving diving diving diving off the balcony
Tired and wired we ruin too easy
Sleep in our clothes and wait for winter to leave

Hold ourselves together with our arms around the stereo for hours
While it sings to itself or whatever it does
When it sings to itself of its long lost loves
I’m getting tied, I’m forgetting why

Tired and wired we ruin too easy
Sleep in our clothes and wait for winter to leave
But I’ll be with you behind the couch when they come
On a different day just like this one

Friday, February 08, 2008
 

Six Decades of Pelicans -- huge online archive courtesy Things Magazine
Wednesday, February 06, 2008
 

Mike Grill, Treasure Seekers (Small Version), 2007
 

Tonight's Youtube:

You'll get chilly receptions everywhere you go

But now the day has come to let you know where I'm coming from
 

Mount Foley and Welch Peak from the air, Cheam Range, British Columbia. Photograph by Drew Brayshaw


Photographer/pilot John Scurlock, Chilliwack Airport, British Columbia

Brother dru recently got invited to go flying with Concrete WA's John Scurlock, who, with the help of his little yellow kit plane (above) is busily assembling a massive photographic archive of the mountain terrain of western Canada and Washington's Cascade Range. Last night, dru treated me to an impromptu slideshow of his trip -- 200+ images of the high points of the Cheam Range, Chilliwack Valley, and Manning Park. The highlights from that flight are worth perusing at length, and enlarging.

I've spent months browsing Scurlock's online galleries. Though his images are presented as transparent "information," and not neccessarily in an art context, they exceed that initial purpose, just like August Sander's archives, or Atget's. This picture, for example, of Mount Waddington's main summit in late December, ice-rimed and draped in shrouds of drifting snow, not only accurately represents what the summit looks like, but also conveys Scurlock's amazement at that hostile alien world.
Tuesday, February 05, 2008
 

Unsurprisingly, "Vancouver's Disgruntled Voices" have a blog.

As someone who has spent a not inconsiderable amount of time trying to "intervene in the lackluster state of arts criticism in Vancouver," the claim that "anonymity allows us to say the things that the institutional politics of art makes prohibitive" strikes me as embarassing and sad. It's depressing to think that anyone should ever put the demands of a career, tenure, exhibition, graduate fellowship, etc. ahead of speaking truth to power.

Vancouver 911's cowardly typo-ridden communiqué implies that art is just another kind of system, something to be gamed. It's a symptom of "the lackluster state of arts criticism in Vancouver," not a solution to the problem.
Monday, February 04, 2008
 

"The film, which includes some breathtakingly beautiful images of the green, wet Guyanese jungle and a monumental waterfall that cuts through it, is driven less by narrative than by ideas and impressions. Nudged into shape by Mr. Herzog's voice-over narration, White Diamond seems motivated by a reverent, sober curiosity and a willingness to accept the irreducible mysteriousness of nature, in both its wild and its human incarnations."
 

John Huston's Fat City (1972). Screenplay by Leonard Gardner, from his great novel. Cinematography by Conrad Hall. Nb. 2.32. Bresson, Shore, Hopper, Wall & etc.
 

Tonight's Youtube:

Please, please don't judge me too strong

In the mansion of the governor there's nothing that is known for sure

Whatever happened to images 'cause now they’re gone


Let's admit the bastards beat us


Psychedelic and funkadelic, uh-huh!
 

One Hundred Famous Ghosts (63), 2008
 

Blind, 2008 (enlarge)
 
Bruised Billy Joel New York State of Mind

On the deck: Emily Haines' lovely Telethon

When I'm on will you leave me on?
When I'm on will you leave me on?
And when I'm down will you let me get under?
Take cover
Can't hide without a house

Newspapers blow over
Can't walk past the driveway
Without asking for directions

So full of stupid questions

When the daylight's like flourescent light
I'm going to take my time night by night
When the daylight's like flourescent light
I hang my hands over your eyes to hide
When I'm on will you rescue me?
 

ACT (Aesthetically Claimed Thing): Cat Rackham Gets Depression
 

Mel Bochner, Complain, 2007
Courtesy Peter Freeman, Inc.
Sunday, February 03, 2008
 
In across the desk: a nice two volume hardcover Complete Short Stories of W. Somerset Maugham, with slipcase.

Maugham's short-short "The Verger" has more to do with Pulpfiction and my strange head than you might expect at first:

"The manager stared at him as though he were a prehistoric monster.

'And do you mean to say that you've built up this important business and amassed a fortune of thirty thousand pounds without being able to read or write? Good God, man, what would you be now if you had been able to?'

'I can tell you that, sir,' said Mr. Foreman, a little smile on his still aristocratic features. 'I'd be verger of St. Peter's, Neville Square.'"
 
Chain Lightning, It Feels so Good

Just in across the desk: Penguin Niccolo Machiavelli Discourses, Heritage Front stamp on the title page.
 
Lights on, music blaring, folks browsing the front racks, other folks dragging in boxes of books, neon OPEN sign illuminated in the window.

SIDEWALK GUY [through front door]: ARE YOU OPEN?

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