AMP: Artists' Meeting Place and Resource Collective

July 17 2006

I'm walking up Joy street, sipping a lukewarm can of coconut juice through a plastic straw.
It's 5:30pm. My stomach is heavy with the wretched shrimp bisque that I bought at Whole Foods. It was a gloppy, salty, orange pudding mess that I discarded, not even half eaten, into the trash. I should have asked for a refund!
Now I'm sweating my way up this hill, trying to wash the taste away with the coconut juice, except the juice is almost warm and it tastes like the milk left on the bottom after you eat a bowl of Grape-nuts. My stomach protests and further weighs me down.

I like to take photos of decaying waste that I find on the street. I especially like to document roadkills and discarded food products.

My camera is low end, and my compositions are straightforeward. I'm not calling this stuff art, I just find it interesting. I will include it as a secondary stream of data along with my journal, as I think it makes a fitting backdrop for the evolution of a personal mythology.

10 July 2006, 11 am

This will be the place where I write all of the things I shouldn't have made public.

You know all those stories you always hear of "idiots" who start blogs where they bitch about their jobs and coworkers and then get fired when Boss finds out? It's gonna be like that.

This journal will burn bridges and hopefully facilitate building new ones. It's a way for you to get to know me, and a way for me to know myself.

You see, I don't really have a coherent identity like many people do. Or at least, not one that I'm sufficiently aware of to do anything with. I never developed a Persona - I am many different things to many different people - fuck!

7 July 2006 - 10 am

I am here at work, at the flute company. Shooting waxes into rubber molds.
I am a God in chains. A one winged angel. An octopus with one tentacle.

I know better than all of these people - don't I?

A voice: " Oh, they're just grumpy because their lives didn't turn out the way they wanted."

Another voice : " You'll never make any money with your own two hands."

A third voice : "Kissing each other all over."

It echoes in my head.

A fourth voice, my own, echoing from the past:
" I've got to get out of here."
"It's an Elephant's graveyard."
"I've gone from thinking 'Oh how the mighty have fallen' to 'Oh how the fallen have fallen'."

Just wanted to test the blog interface so I thought I'd post an image of a bracelet I made a while back.