|ingrid saying good-bye to her midnight swimming pool.|
well, i'm feeling quite a bit better, due, not in small part, to having a vision of a more radical way of life & doing things.
i'm committing to a year of DIY.
|philadelphia magic gardens|
after seeing the philadelphia magic gardens
marcel duchamp's green box.
|the rehearsal space for the arkestra in germantown.|
and the rehearsal house for sun ra's arkestra, where they self-produced their work on saturn records,
i spent the drive from philly back to jfk thinking about how i need to break out of the system of literary journals and contests that is not really meeting my needs as an artist--i'm spending more money than i make on submission fees, more time on applications and submission than on writing, and mostly getting a lukewarm to no reception. i believe in my work, and do everything i can to make things that are new, not vain repetitions of the past, that are true to my own visions, impulses, beliefs, and love of the tactile world, but that doesn't seem to be enough for any kind of mass institutional embrace.
i just need to get braver and strike out on my own, where i generally do my best work anyway.
my new year starts here.
may to may.
no more asking to be admitted.