VERSIONS

Posted by Grace Hwang

back story:

one evening in the middle of December I walked down onto the R train platform at Court Street and heard a street musician play Femme Fatale by the Velvet Underground. the way he crooned echoed the whole station and i walked closer and started recording. His guitar had a sticker that said, “Gabe Faux Real”. a manhattan bound train pulled in and left. i sang along softly and he acknowledged with a nod. a brooklyn bound train pulled in. i got on. i wish i stayed longer and sang louder.
this recording let’s me replay my fantasy where i duet with gabe faux real.
i like that it will get to live in a virtual public space.

www.popupartstudio.com
www.psusocialpractice.org/grace-hwang/

Images we found posted on the internet that we really liked to describe.

Good Photo Text.
David Estes and Gregory Halpern.

From Courtney “Bird”

I’ve been living in India for awhile now.
I’m working on a project called “The Wish Book”.

I just wanted to share some pictures I’ve captured here along the way.

1. chillin’ with Grandma in Varanasi, the holiest city in India
2. drawing with street children
3″ let the word wait”
4. too good to pass up.
5. A mystery photo from one of my class 5 students (amazing)
6. Kids are the best medicine

also here’s a vid i made last night , i just sequenced a bunch of my stuff together to one of my favorite songs.
Its a short edit of a tiny bit of the magic here.
It was one of those nights where everything was flashing before my eyes.
Everything thats touched me, i had to try to materialize it.
If you know what I mean.

“My grad school roommate Warren MacMillan has been doing this series of surreal autobiographical digital drawings on Facebook for a few months, , and this latest set is really great.”

Send me anything you wish, and I will post it.    Image, video, text…. its up to you.

thanks,

Lee

Contribution to Voyagers “Poetry in Motion” Series from the 1990′s

By Charles Bukowki
Transcript:

“Reading the poets has been the dullest of things. Even reading the great novelists of the past, I said, “Tolstoy is supposed to be special?” I go to bed, I read War and Peace. I read it, I read it, I say, “Where is the specialist in War and Peace?” I really tried to understand. I mean, and then many of the great poets of the past, I’ve read their stuff. I’ve read it. All I get is a goddamn headache and boredom. I really feel sickness in the pit of my stomach, I say “There’s some trick going on here, this is not true. This is not real, its not good.”
You see poetry itself contains as much energy as a Hollywood industry. As much energy as a stage play on Broadway. All it needs is practitioners who are alive to bring it alive. Poetry has always been said to be a private, hidden art. Not to be appreciated. The reason it’s not appreciated is because it hasn’t shown any guts, hasn’t shown any dance. Hasn’t shown any moxie. Poetry is generally very dull, very pretensive. Uh, those who say the poet is very private and precious person, I don’t agree with. Generally, he is just a dumb, fiddling asshole writing insecure lines that don’t come through, believing he’s immortal, waiting for his immortality which never arrives. Because the poor fucker just can’t write. Most poets, coets, whoets, carrots, can’t even write a simple line. Like, “The dog walked down the street.”Nothing should ever be done that should be done. It has to come out like a good hot beer shit. A good hot beer shit is glorious man. You get up, turn around, look at it and your proud. The fumes, the stink of the turd, you look, you say, “God, I did it. I’m good.” Then you flush it away and there is a sense of sadness when just the water is there. It’s like writing a good poem, you just do it. You, its a beer shit. There’s nothing to analyze, nothing to say it’s just done. Got it?
I really hate reading verse because you’re really getting up there. You’ve written poems that you really meant alone, you know, by you’re typewriter, then there’s crowd out there drinking beer and all that. And you’re reading it to them. The writer has no responsibility. Except to jack off and bed (vet?) alone and type a good page. I continued writing even though it came back and got drunk for 10 years. I felt there was nothing out there. So I had to continue because they were so bad, not because I was so good. And I’m still not so good, but they’re still very bad. There is still room for somebody to step in here you see, and I hope he arrives or she.
That should be enough right there, with that bottle of 55 poets, that should cure them. With their melody but it wont. Goodnight, goodbye, and happy reading.

WATCH VIDEO SERIES AT BIG THINK

About Fritz Haeg

Fritz Haeg works between his art, architecture and design practice Fritz Haeg Studio (though the currently preferred clients are animals), the happenings and gatherings of Sundown Salon (now Sundown Schoolhouse), the ecology initiatives of Gardenlab (including Edible Estates), and other various combinations of building, curating, dancing, designing, exhibiting, gardening, organizing, talking, teaching, and writing. His home base since 2001 is a geodesic dome in the hills of Los Angeles.

One of my large scale basketball drawings is being exhibited in the exhibition:

Liquid Light: Knoxville Museum of Art
Watercolors from the KMA collection

Opening Reception: Thursday, January 26th, 2012

Also, the education department at the museum has created a project based on my drawing methods. You can

Download It Here