The thread increasingly surrounded by darkness Riding out the winter (decline) of industrial civilization


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Audio recorded under I** overpass.

A sound piece by SJSU faculty member—installed under overpass

Everything is in real time.
This piece was shot over five days along the Guadelupe River where it cuts through downtown San Jose, CA. A river draining 170 square miles of watershed regularly gets unruly. Floods and course changes are to be expected. The City of San Jose has attempted to lock down the river’s , to freeze its path in place with heavily fortified banks

Cutting through San Jose’s urban core (the Adobe Towers are just off its fortified banks). A freeway passes overhead—one flow meeting another. And incredibly durable concrete structures were required to manage the interaction. It’s yet another lame attempt to control the unpredictable whims of a watercourse that, before being confined to a concrete channel, regularly flooded, delivering nutrients and enriching the soil of this once fertile valley. The hundred-year flood will be the river’s revenge—it is.


Stranded review:

The indignity of being left dead in a spacesuit on mars.

Well written but strangely overacted.
The aerial shot where the color is twisted slightly to make the ground look green. It’s weird how Vincent gallo’s films all seem to be about satisfying his character’s weird sexual fantasies. Like a long drawn out lead into a strange porn where he’s the star.

We’re not going to live on mars—the planet is too inhospitable to accommodate surplus humans from a damaged earth. This film feeds the fantasy by hinting at the potential to grow things there—they even shift the color filter briefly as a visual hint.


18th and Missouri

the joy of infinity: part 2

the boneyard (AM)

cloud lapse

last days


titan circles

NTB (screen test)

lapse leftovers
30 copies in the first run.

New Trends in Japanese Architecture—paper inserts
I work very hard at something that provides almost no income.
Soapy tea--

The social dynamics of Farley’s coffee shop.

KSCU—radio on campus

Looking for DJs
03.09.10—joy of infinity part 2
you’ve decided to do something magical—a long journey. By the end of your first day you’re sitting comfortably in the living room of thee gentlemen you’ve known less than an hour.
“Lights bassnectar remix”
The social networking film
Degraded by the sun’s ultraviolet rays, this petroleum-derived object began its life as a Super Ball.

Edes Prize for Emerging Artists

February 28th
Documentary Photography Audience Engagement Grant

Letter of intent (optional): Friday, March 11, 2011, 5pm EST

Completed online application: Friday, May 13, 2011, 5pm EST

Megasites of modernity--

The functioning industrial sites lend themselves to being viewed as ruined—fencing, absence of people, chemical staining, structural complexity

Ruin Value—form a bridge of tradition

"is the concept that a building be designed such that if it eventually collapsed, it would leave behind aesthetically pleasing ruins that would last far longer without any maintenance."

Although "it is probably impossible to build so as entirely to avoid the ultimate effects of pleasing decay" (Piper 1948: 94), the 'theory of ruin-value' requires that the aura and aesthetic appeal of the ruined building in the future would already be present in the mind of its architect. The prospective memory implied in such reasoning takes into account natural decay and cultural ignorance over very long time periods.
Hitler: Ultimately, all that remained to remind men of the great epochs of history was their monumental architecture, he remarked
The opposite of planned obsolescence

Antilia and Jamnagar

"Here are statues which stand before the shores of Atullia (ante ripas Atulliae) and which have been set up for the safety of sailors; for beyond is the vile sea, which sailors cannot navigate,"

How are these two sites connected—besides the wealth?

The company town

Antilia and The Russian Palace

Oil wealth and the building of opulent homes.

The Salton sea as a human catastrophe—the site of a seasonal cycle of suffering and death, both human and animal.
Interesting paradox—the industrial world has reached its most frenetic moment yet the vignettes portray many of the industrial sites as places of modest activity—sometimes calm

I never intended to become an activist on these subjects -- and I'm not. I feel like more of an observer, someone reporting my own subjective take on things. Our cities are alive, like us; they have both a deep intelligence that guides them and a physical presence. They're both a brain and a body. They are our neural networks writ large, our psychological drives made physical, and by changing and fixing our cities we are reflecting similar change going on inside. When our built world does not accurately correspond to our vision, to our physiology, and to our innate psychology, we suffer, and feel alienated, as if we are inhabiting the wrong body or mind. When our surroundings are more aligned with us, we fit better, more comfortably. The rewards are immense and wide-ranging.

But mostly it's just more fun.

Commission musicians to draft compositions for the water tower. Series of recordings.

Offer a collection of recordings done by musical friends—while staying at their respective Homes.
Domestic duties.

Sit up and work for me.

Recordings of what went on in the home.
Tips on communicating with your husband or children.
Dale Earnheart jr. jr.—best of list.
Line down—when things get held up on the assembly ilne.

Fat people are the human embodiment of the idea of over-consumption.

Urinated all over this apartment then lay in it for days

Walked the entire island of Manhattan. Didn’t sleep or eat for days.

A poor reaction to depression medication.
On leading a sheltered life. On the satisfaction of providing a home for someone away from theirs. How to
People reflect Eric’s lifestyle back at him, and he’s uncomfortable with what he sees. He’d rather not admit that he questions the validity of what he does with his time. Which, by the way is predominantly abstract thought.
Thinned from Edes proposal:
His system of research and production functions as an embodiment of his concept by exemplifying new, low-impact models of behavior and artistry.  It is connected socially and temporally to the living world- the antithesis of advanced industrial mechanization.
Practice new low-impact models of behavior and artistry in line with the approaching paradigm: ‘scarcity industrialism.’
Each represents a high concentration of emergy (embodied-energy), or all the energy that went in to producing and assembling
If we start looking at such structures in this way now—they may serve to temper the disillusion associated with letting go of techno-utopian fantasies cultivated during the age of abundance.

An anomalous event rather than a stable condition.

Today the modern industrial economy seems as permanent as any human reality can be. That sense of permanence, though, is an illusion.
The innovation fallacy—it’s a common belief that technological innovation can always trump resource limits, but history shows otherwise.
The Illuminated Thread is an exercise in cultural conservation, preserving some part of the world’s cultural heritage. In your case it’s the structures and landscapes created during the industrial age.
From Scott:
Geo-social significance
empirical research

ontological (the nature of being), real-time approach


He has determined what art practice and global citizenship mean on his own terms, with results that are critical but optimistic, conceptual and experiential.

Transforming them into mythic ruins
Megasites of modernity--
Other questions/interests for artist’s statement
(1) Diminishing returns/instability of ratcheting complexity

Implications of peak energy

(2) The religion of progress and the effects of growing disillusion.
(3) Mystification of the contemporary ruin
(6) The Industrial sublime
(4) The process of succession as it applies to human living patterns—identifying and practicing/cultivating the rituals and behaviors appropriate (conducive to success) for the next seral stage—the age scarcity and deindustrialization.

Developing a skill set for the age of scarcity—disentangling/de-monetizing,

Living on the margins
(5) Heroic efforts to exploit the environment in pursuit of progress—move mountains—harnessing a godlike power—rivers that flow uphill.

Hyper-complex energy intensive systems

Highlight the interconnectedness- the matrix,

Understanding/appreciation for the resources that built and sustain the industrial world—the singularity of this age—

Benefiting from seeing the

Taking utilitarian structures—typically seen as purely functional, often ugly—and reframing them as heroic—infused with emergy.

Gives a more accurate sense of the scale/concentration of resources/interconnectedness of these structures. Bicycle provides a human-scaled (both in size and speed) mode of experiencing these sites and the landscapes in which they are situated. Recon work – acting as a reporter and bringing back pieces of documentation of what has been witnessed.
Wean others off the notion of endless progress. Help others recognize that the level of build-up/growth we’ve achieved is undeniably excessive, and at this point, harmful.

Buffer the decent with a healthy appreciation for the splendor—look back on with awe and reverence. Tempers the embarrassment negative feeling associated with megastructures/systems loosing their original function. Value is retained—transformed.

Archive stronger as the sum of its entries.
The structures become a “bridge of tradition”—transmitting the accomplishments of our age to the cultures of the future.


Sep. 14, 2008
Stage one/two: Oct. 14, 2009
Stage three overture: Feb. 27, 2010
Stage three: Apr. 27, 2010
Reka: Feb. 9, 2011

Artist wants to clean your toilet(s).


I’m a 31-year-old visual artist with a master’s degree from the University of Chicago. I spent much of last year working at the Roadrunner Hostel in Tucson, AZ. I’ve since moved to the South Bay and am looking for ways to increase the time I spend doing domestic tasks. After months taking care of travelers coming through Tucson, I genuinely miss putting my time and energy into maintaining a home. I’m a cleaning machine and do well with yard work, laundry, and light sewing tasks. I iron, chop veggies and oil squeaky things. I’ll do errand runs as long as the cargo fits in my bicycle panniers (a substantial grocery run fits fine). I live in San Jose but will travel to any neighboring community within 20 miles. I’m fit and articulate—a pleasure to have around. References galore. If you think you might benefit from my services, drop me a line and we’ll meet for coffee.

also, my artistic productions are compiled here:
“What’s mined is yours.”

Where’s the maid—where’s Rosie.

On the Tower of David.
On RISK—the last game on earth and the only one that wont feel trite.
In between Pleasanton and Livermore—absurdly scaled dirt ramps.
When the iphone screen shatters—how long will you let it cut you?
On long abandoned open pit mines becoming holy sites.
When the building has no elevator the equation inverts and the lower floors become the more valuable. This is more stable, less top heavy. The higher the floor, the more remote you are.
Read journals into recorder—elaborate on what you remember
The business of advertising and public relations (formerly known as propaganda!) has advanced to such an extent that one needs the skills and dedication of a professional detective to filter out the truth in respect to almost anything you read, hear, or look at directly these days.
No wonder trust is so low. We’ve been lied to over and over.
A more modern example of intended ruins are the planned warning signs for the proposed nuclear waste repository at Yucca Mountain, which are intended to endure for 10,000 years, and yet still convey an enduring (if negative) impression on future generations: "Keep out. Don't dig here."
It’s all about editing—everything is filtered.

You’re taking in wide streams of information and narrowing them—thinning them down into what’s most relevant.

On the importance of good transitions
Topeka parties as Japan is hit by disaster. We dance as they climb from the rubble

Chores beginning March 28, 2011

Clusterfuck Nation
Roll Joints




Po box





Sharon—quote article

Nicole—a proposal?




Call Brett CC/Max/James
Clean Bathroom/sweep bedroom floor
Apps at Whole Foods/Peet’s/Good Karma—check in at others
Mountain Charlie Cycling Caddy Write Up
Craigslist Housekeeping
Burn the furniture additions
Preview new music
Pay off farm delivery service
Compress and remove cloud lapse files
Write up trip notes
Download new video/audio
Abandon soundcloud on BTF, add link to archive
Write to touring company, Silicon Valley Bicycle Coalition, Hostels in SLO and on coast
Transportation to Tucson
More mailings—get addresses
Compile Erickson’s tracks

I’ve only recently moved to the South Bay area from Tucson, and a friend and fellow touring cyclist brought you guys to my attention.


Monday, April 18

Depart San Jose: 12:20

Arrive Tucson: 3:15

Saturday, April 23

Depart Tucson: 3:30

Arrive San Jose: 8:15

Santa Barbara via 101 tour—March 2011


Crossing the pass—2300 feet then making the decent—meeting four racers in formation at the bottom of the hill and being completely ignored—not even a glance—despite their awareness of what you’ve just done. Chasing them stubbornly in the wrong direction.

Arriving on St. Patrick’s day without a clue—décor on state street reveals the occasion.
Dancing with Jessica and her friend—tech house—smelling ripe
Jaccuzzi glass save—close to esp.
That unbelievable café in San Louis Obispo—the feather earrings.
The man at the train station apologizing for the shortsighted mistakes of his generation. Would have done things differently if he’d known.
Elevate the engineers, let them build their megaprojects—suffering will be seen at a scale we can scarcely imagine.
“should resist the naive nature warship” and “seek to direct and pacify its destructive outbursts.”

“We shouldn’t hail the nobility of the Tohoku earthquake a la John Muir; we should redouble our efforts, however imperfect, to tame the Earth.

--LA Times opinion piece
1. Mother Nature and human nature can't be contained.

We've done such a remarkable job at reshaping the physical world to suit our wants and needs that it takes disasters like that in Japan to literally jolt us out of our complacent belief that we are masters of our domain. As PCI Fellow, Bill McKibben states:

What the events reveal is the thinness of the margin on which modernity lives. There's not a country in the world more modern and civilised than Japan; its building codes and engineering prowess kept its great buildings from collapsing when the much milder quake in Haiti last year flattened everything. But clearly it's not enough. That thin edge on which we live, and which at most moments we barely notice, provided nowhere near enough buffer against the power of the natural world.

Look into dedication ceremonies for megastructure projects—bridges, dams, power plants, etc. Ceremonies, the forward march of progress
Looking at that Japanese comic depicting a drowned city—only a couple days before the Tsunami.

Personal skills hierarchy of importance
Caring for your vessel—have control over the physiological aspects of your own body—the regular maintenance. Take care of your teeth, cut your own hair, rest as much as you need. Stretch. Stay away from doctors and practitioners of services aimed at removing these skills.
Transportation—moving your vessel around: if you drive, be able to fix you own car—if you can’t, you shouldn’t be driving. If you bicycle—know your ride inside and out. Do your own repairs.
Food and housing?

President’s nobel peace prize ‘lecture’ paired with the Liberia documentary—vice guide to travel.

On facebook reinforcing herd behavior—you do what you see others doing.
On being followed by owls. Perhaps a list

Hats, rings, depicted on walls, in plastic on rooftops, flying overhead

Owl warship
Rice Guide to Travel: Liberia

A reminder that the industrial age has created places of concentrated suffering—perhaps greater than at any time in history. A hell on earth haunted by bloodthirsty demons.

Pointing out obamas wars in spite of his nobel peace prize.

This is almost a cliché now.

You should post the whole exchange between you and Terresa—when it’s complete.
Monkey Wrench Gang:

Page 16—titan bases referenced

Black mesa coal mine referenced—p25/26
You should find the negatives and have nice prints done of your night images—Claremont. Freeways. Etc.

The new artifacts shot on the table would make a good trio for Jess and Nathan as well. Could be really clear.

Bring back the tennis skirt ladies.

This oversijed meathead dude just looked me over—sized me up.

On the accomplishment of not selling your time to wage labour since Claremont.
You should make it an internship with a stipend. Avoid the taxes.

I want in to this organization—however unhip it may be.

Tapping back into the flow. The strong themes that pop up when things are riding along well. Desert canyons, red rocks, thirst, water in the desert. Survival. Dehydration.
127 hours

The Monkey wrench gang

Stranded (Vincent Gallo on Mars)
Quotes from MG—on the police looking like the army.
On motivations—the machine—describing its reach.

Room available in intellectually inclined cyclist oriented household

expended worldview a must.
San Jose’s Rosegarden
Around the corner from market.
Garage and shed storage
In two bedroom (+sunroom) one bath 50s era cottage home. Hardwood floors.
Small monthly dance parties likely.
Fit and attractive 31-year-old houseman keeps things tidy and prepares meals upon request.
Must have college degree or equivalent intelligence.
Copy of letter—text only.

As males have entered into the housecleaning occupations once exclusively reserved for females, there has been difficulty in nomenclature. While males did not seem to object to being called "Nurses," or "Teachers," when they moved in to those formerly female professions, the deep gender association of the term "Maid" was seen as emasculating or demeaning by some. "Manservant" was the an early attempt to create a male parallel, but now seems pretentious to many people and is problematic in its implication that servants are otherwise women. "Houseboy," was another parallel, but its use of the juvenile diminutive is considered demeaning to adult males. "Houseman" has a long history, but is not widely used today.

Add on craigslist including description of the live-in help.

Start putting together hypothetical exhibitions for your work—titan sites—images and video with actual tomb sealing plans if available.

When the student becomes the teacher.
Alvin Toffler
See how he takes to this one.
Increasingly impatient with mediocre looking things viewed on screens.
Ann 408.561.2373
Jen. Fucking hot shorts. incredible legs. Tucson Christa’s dopple.
I love you. I love you. Index cards and ecstasy tablets.
Email Christa trade proposal

Call Jessica Iverson

CAF Cover Letter

Post Mix

Pull quotes from Monkey Wrench Gang—post

Post on the moon/Mars war/peace film pairings

Battle of the X-planes

Email touring Company

Email Teri

Fix bike light



Exercise video

Get in touch with San Jose’ only decent gallery

Contact coastal hostels—SLO

Fred Sales?

Post on both domestic craigslist posts

Cut hair
Monkey Wrench Gang


The wilderness once offered men a plausible way of life,” the Dr. said. “Now it functions as a psychiatric refuge. Soon there will be no wilderness.” He sipped at his bourbon and ice. “Soon there will be no place to go. Then the madness becomes universal.” Another thought. “And the universe goes mad.”


When the cities are gone, he thought, and all the ruckus has died away, when sunflowers push up through the concrete and asphalt of the forgotten interstate freeways, when the Kremlin and the Pentagon are turned into nursing homes for generals, presidents and other such shitheads, when the glass-aluminum skyscraper tombs of Pheonix Arizona barely show above the sand dunes, why then, why then, why then by God maybe free men and wild women on horses, free women and wild men, can roam the sagebush canyonlands in freedom—goddammit!—herding the feral cattle into box canyons, and gorge on bloody meat and bleeding fucking internal organs, and dance all night to the music of fiddles! banjos! steel guitars! by the light of a reborn moon!—by god, yes! Until he reflected soberly, and bitterly, and sadly, until the next age of ice and iron comes down, and the engineers and the farmers and the general motherfuckers come back again.


Their view from the knoll [overlooking Black Mesa coal mine] would be difficult to describe in any known terrestrial language. Bonnie thought of something like a Martian Invasion, The War of the Worlds. Captain Smith was reminded of Kennecott’s open-pit mine (“world’s largest”) near Magna, Utah. Dr. Sarvis thought of the plain of fire and of the oligarchs and oligopoly beyond: Peabody Coal only one arm of Anaconda Copper, Anaconda only a limb of United States Steel; U.S. Steel intertwined in incestuous embrace with the Pentagon, TVA, Standard Oil, General Dynamics, Dutch Shell, I. G. Faben-industrie; the whole conglomerated cartel spread out upon half the planet Earth like a global kraken, panten-tacled, wall-eyed and parrot-beaked, its brain a bank of computer data centers, its blood the flow of money, its heart a radioactive dynamo, its language the technetronic monologue of number imprinted on magnetic tape.

But George Washington Hayduke, his thought was the clearest and simplest: Hayduke thought of Vietnam.


The Dr. was thinking: All this fantastic effort—giant machines, road networks, strip mines, conveyor belt, pipelines, slurry lines, loading towers, railway and electric train, hundred-million-dollar coal-burning power plant; ten thousand miles of high-tension towers and high-voltage power lines; the devastation of the landscape, the destruction of Indian homes and Indian grazing lands, Indian grazing lands, Indian shrines and Indian burial grounds; the poisoning of the last big clean-air reservoir in the forty-eight contiguous United States, the exhaustion of precious water supplies—all that ball-breaking labor and all that heartbreaking insult to land and sky and human heart, for what? Why? All that for what? Why, to light the lamps of Pheonix suburbs not yet built, to run the air conditioners of San Diego and Los Angeles, to illuminate shopping center parking lots at two in the morning, to power aluminum plants, magnesium plants, vinyl-chloride factories and copper smelters, to charge the neon tubing that makes the meaning (all the meaning there is) of Las Vegas, Albuquerque, Tucson, Salt Lake City, the amalgamated metropoli of Southern California, to keep alive the phosphorescent putrefying glory (all the glory there is left) called Down Town, Night Time, Wonderville, U.S.A.


“But about your question: It’s seeing too much insulted tissue under the microscope. All those primitive blood cells multiplying like a plague. Platelets eaten up. Young men and women in the flower of their youth, like Hayduke there, or Bonnie, bleeding to death without a wound. Acute leukemia on the rise. Lung Cancer. I think the evil is in the food, in the noise, in the crowding, in the stress, in the water, in the air. I’ve seen too much of it, Seldom. And it’s going to get a lot worse, if we let them carry out their plans. That’s why.”

“That’s why you’re here?”



“But they have everything. They have the organization and the control and the communications and the army and the police and the secret police. They have the big machines. They have the law and drugs and jails and courts and judges and prisons. They are so huge. We are so small.”

“Dinosaurs. Cast-iron dinosaurs. They ain’t got a fucking chance against us.”

Trouble on the moon and mars.

Stranded on Foreign Bodies film pairing.

Bad times on foreign bodies. The interior environments are well designed in both. And the exteriors are breathtaking. Industrial mining on the fucking moon!

Both deal with death on the frontiers of human exploration.

Incredible shots of the industry on the moon – and the incredibly destructive “harvester that collects ‘clean’ energy bound for earth.

The garbage pickup event— once a year San Jose, Monday April 11. Spring Cleaning—the rubbish is laid out in front of each house—some piles larger than other. Wood scrapes, furniture—a monolithic television stands alone—a sign tapes to its face: “sill works.” A scrapper loads part of a child’s bedframe into his already heaping pickup then floats on down the quiet street.

Sealing your unwanted past in a tomb—buried deep underground.
Do people seem to want to tell you what they think of you—offer a critique—both the positive and negative.

Tuesday, April 12, 2011

Miki Garcia and the Contemporary Arts Forum group:
I’m excited to be considered for CAF’s next Education Coordinator. From what I know about the position, it seems well suited to both my interests and talents. Below are a few thoughts pertaining to my background in education—an attempt to highlight my suitability for the EC role within your organization.
A longtime friend of mine, familiar with the accumulated months I’ve spent bicycle touring The States, recently asked me whether I’d prefer to ride with someone commanding more or less touring knowledge than myself. What he was asking was, in this context, which role I should be cast in: that of student or teacher. Finding myself with surplus expertise vis-à-vis the ins and outs of spokes and paineers, less was my answer.
I’m approaching the same inflection point in my artistic life—a protracted moment where my place in the art world shifts away from student and moves tentatively toward instructor. While there is always more to learn, especially in art, a graduate level education and years as a practicing artist have readied me for the transition. I see the EC position at CAF as a bold step toward assuming my new responsibilities as educator in the arts.
While I’ve yet to work for a nonprofit in such a capacity, I have demonstrated my educational abilities in several arenas. I completed eight seasons as director of the Stonegate Country Club Sailing Program—teaching nine to fourteen year olds how to navigate a complex vessel over water. I designed the curriculum, taught the classes and maintained the boats. I’ve been told I should “write the book” on how to set up a junior’s sailing program.

Recently retired, my mother was an elementary school teacher for thirty-eight years. Teaching art lessons in her fourth grade classroom was my first experience in arts education. From informal exercises with paint and charcoal to step-by-step drawings of an elaborate eight-pointed star, my mother periodically handed me the reigns to her classroom. It was an exercise in patience and confirmation that teaching really was in my blood.

Most recently, I was given the opportunity to share my artistic knowledge in a college-level setting. During graduate school at the University of Chicago, I was hand chosen for two course assistantships. The first was a beginning level photography course taught by Julia Hechtman, a talented Boston based artist. I ran critiques, met one-on-one with students to discuss their portfolios, held office and lab hours, and graded work.
The second assistantship, the last quarter of my second year in Chicago (2008), was a visual language course I taught alongside a recent graduate of the program. With almost no guidelines on how the class was to be structured, the two of us designed it from scratch. Adapting favorite lessons pulled from the years of art courses behind us, we effectively made them our own.
Thank you for your time and attention. I look forward to working with you and the rest of the talented folks at CAF. I hope to be a valuable contribution to your already remarkable organization.

Brett Tracy

Much of my work, including writing samples, can be found at
[Nicole would you forward this on to Miki for me]
Miki and Nicole,

I enjoyed sitting down with you both yesterday and I hope you found our conversation as fruitful as I did. I wanted to relate a couple things that occurred to me after our visit.


Since you mentioned it, I’ll say that working exclusively with women isn’t likely to be a problem for me. I lack most of the typically male traits that trip things up. I’m uncompetitive and don’t naturally seek positions of greater control or influence. I possess an almost complete lack of interest in sports and don’t need male camaraderie to get me through the day. I have no issues taking criticism or direction from women. I’ve found my niche in otherwise entirely female (and incredibly cramped) workplaces before and undoubtedly will again.


I’m totally on board with maintaining wide-open channels of communication. I imagine that kind of thing is pretty essential for a well functioning office, and especially important for a nonprofit. I’m inclined to behave this way anyway.


You asked how the EC position at CAF aligns with my career goals. My artistic practice is moving steadily toward a lecture/screening/performance format where I employ my own images and sound to advance understanding of a complex and often foreign set of ideas. The educator emerges here as well. It’s in my interest to cultivate skills useful in demystifying not only my own subject matter, but also contemporary art as a whole. I believe there are still unexplored ways of making art more accessible and techniques countering art's trend toward esoteric obscurity.  I look forward to joining you on the “font line” with fresh ideas of my own on.


I’d like to send a DVD of some recent work to CAF. Please let me know whether I should use the gallery’s posted address or an alternate.


Thanks for meeting with me. The gallery is quite beautiful—certainly a space i'd quickly grow to love.


All the best,

The candle must be kept burning. Put in a new one

“What is this?” He says—looking at the poster on the floor. “This looks like it’s supposed to be something.”

Christa proposal. A trade.

Including a couple of well-constructed mixes that have already proven a good match for this particular drug—take em or leave em.

Disk to Dad

Camera to Dad.

ORION magazine—great cover image of boulders strapped to flatbed.

“A pipeline runs through it”

Asks: Will the pipeline become an industrial ruin, a tourist attraction, or simply a road that takes you as far north as you can drive?

(I’d say it’ll end up being all three.)


Megamachines—arctic mining

The moon

Stranded—on mars
War pair
Desert landscapes—marginal environments
Designing the joint strike fighter

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