I desire him
When like a victim
I pretend myself alive

I desire the victim



Peeping Tom (Michael Powell, 1960)

Also yesterday,

I wrote and sent off a proposal to the folks at Holyoke Research to do a 6 month residency there. If that comes through, half of 2009 will be taken care of for me. I mention it here, because I think a fair number of 23E folks will be asked to participate in the piece I’ve proposed.

As well, I started my Fulbright application. Though that project is a collaboration with Taha Belal, and not necessarily under the rubric of 23E, i mention just cuz…

Finally, a couple weeks ago, maybe I mentioned this, I heard from Durfee that my app was accepted and was in competition for the ARC grant. Fingers crossed.

Well, the worms haven’t killed me yet.

Worked on some financing issues yesterday. Also tried to get ready to go to Chicago this afternoon. I’m meeting with Phil and Libby and attending Stel’s wedding tomorrow. I also made some stuff for the Forever What? installation in SF in one week.

In the afternoon I took a break and sat down to educate myself. I watched the Symbiopsychotaxiplasm: Take One DVD docu feature on Wm Graves. Then I watched Symbio 2 1/2. Then The Horrors of Malformed Men and The Final Programme. These were loaned to me on VHS by the incredible Bonnie Banks. Symbio I watched on Skye’s advice. Simply fabulous. Mix that with F for Fake, and we’re starting to get close to what I envision we might get from Disembody. Though what I’m shooting for is that combination slammed face first into a combination of The Passion of Joan of Arc and The Fifth Element. That’s a bastard child I couldn’t help falling in love with.

One thing I find unfortunate is how few of Wm. Greaves other films are available, affordably, on DVD.


The Horrors of Malformed Men by Teruo Ishii


The Final Programme by Robert Fuest

As if everything has yet happened
By the window or in front of the broken mirror.
Under the bed in a loft, in the box under the bed, on the photos in the box
The last snow in the frontier of dawn. The bookshelf
The hidden wounds of teenage memories in the diary
Sending postcards from a summer trip we carefully planned
Everyone will notice that ghostly curly hair with a red t-shirt
Making tea when I was young with all the time in the world
The glorious pleasure when the sun shines through my white Jil Sander shirt
In another possible relationship
My blindness leads a melancholy alley to a wrong party
A haircut destroying his existence in vain
Hence Sauvignon Blanc prevails the list
And camera zooms like his eyes



Wavelength (Michael Snow, 1967)