Brick was excited because the new Richard Pevear and Larissa Volokonsky translation of War and Peace came out on Monday. They are a married couple who translate Russian classics into English. Their collaboration and their closeness results in especially accurate and poetic texts. This is Brick's new kitten seated atop War and Peace.
My brother, Moe, ran a marathon today. It was an unexpectedly hot October day in Chicago and when he got to about mile 22 the race was canceled. The cops and race volunteers drove around and announced that too many people had heat stroke already and they didn't have the resources to take care of more people, should any of them get ill. He was understandably disappointed and was ordered to walk the rest of the race.
This painting is done. There's always more I could do, but for the moment at least, it's done. It's big (five feet by eight feet), which is the same size as the last one I finished.
Last week I had to pee in front of a prison guard. It wasn't that bad at all-- she was really nice. And the whole thing took less than ten minutes. In order to volunteer at a girl's prison I had to take the drug test with just a few days notice and they told me that I had to take it when they scheduled it, otherwise they would have to assume I had something to hide and give me an automatic positive. The only way out of it would be if I got in a car accident, and then, they said, I'd have to show them proof of the accident. They really take every precaution.
Here's a picture of my new painting. It's hard to tell, but it's actually really colorful. There are a lot of red and green layers in the underpass and a lot of yellow, purple and pink in the sky. When I'm done with it there will be cars and trucks going through the underpass. It's five feet by eight feet. When I finish it, I'm going to start some smaller ones that I can work on in my apartment.
Kitty's getting married. The other bridesmaids and I had been trying to plan something for her, and had been e-mailing back and forth. Here's what I suggested:
I think there should be naked swimming in Lake Michigan or a visit to the Turkish bath house on Division. Something that we don't tell her about ahead of time that would be scary fun- i.e. a whipping with branches, skipping stones, really loud screaming, breaking glass... something symbolic. I know she always wanted to fill nice stemware with red paint and throw them at a brick wall. (She told me) We could do that. How about staying awake for three days on end? Does anyone have any nice pictures of her from a long time ago? How about a pinata? How about setting something symbolic of all the dead weight of the past on fire? I know she likes to shoot things. Maybe we could go to a shooting range and all take turns aiming at pictures of things we'd like to leave behind. It could be like Rosh Hashanah, but fun. The Mexican grocery store by my house sells whole pig heads for 8 dollars! A goldmine of meaning for super cheap! (All of my options, while meaningful are also very affordable.) Think about it.
We went with pedicures and the Bridesmaids Tea at the Drake Hotel.
Doesn't her new haircut look adorable? Just like Cat Power.
Early Friday morning there was a huge storm that caused a power outage at the ol' grocery store. The generators kicked in, but they couldnt stay on long enough and about $70,000 of food had to be thrown away. Kinda breaks your heart to look at it.
This is my cousin Johnny. His grandfather painted this picture of him when he was under a year old. Johnny is about 5 now and has grown up to look a lot like the boy in the picture.
I finally finished the Rococo nightmare chair. It is more comfortable than before and clashes now more than ever with my roommates white minimalist Ikea furniture.
In the 80's my dad was in a New Wave band called Phil 'n' the Blanks. They were one of the first bands to be on MTV. They didn't make it big outside of Chicago, but my siblings and I loved watching their videos when we were kids. I just put a bunch of them on youtube. Enjoy: