Backlog Pt. 6: House of Hurley

Here's some photos from the last minute show that I put together for Michael Hurley back in July when he came down for the Angel Island show. Five days before the island show, I heard that sir Snock had docked back home in Oregon after his tour rather than just coming straight to the Bay Area. When I talked to him on the phone I realized that there had been a bit of a miscommunication regarding his travel to SF and that I had to buy him plane ticket in order for him to come down for the island outing....he also thought it'd be nice to play another show while he was down and asked if I could set another one up for him. I really love Michael Hurley, and there was no part of me that regretted this development, and I certainly wasn't going to let a couple of logistical bumps deter any of the mounting goodness, so I quickly got on the horn with Dina at Triple Base to see if she and Joyce might be game for a hosting an off the cuff Snock/Avocet evening at the gallery two days after the island show. With a calm generosity, they opened their doors, and the show was a warm winner.

Thanks so much to Dina and Joyce, to Meara O'Reilly for being the MOST positive team player throughout (as well as for continually contributing her beautiful talents), to Lisa Strauss for her dedication to Michael's world and for being the ultimate helpful connector and supporter, and of course to Michael hisself, for approaching this whole situation with a gentle openness, proving and providing the wisdom of his years...you are a moving presence.






update...I am in brooklyn at the moment with hannah and her family. we are heading back to california tomorrow evening, and I continue on, straight up to the Sierra Mountains for a short artists residency. Also, check out Nat and John Minardi's new project, it is an enjoyable and revealing exercise and completely worth taking part in...I did it with some buddies last night.

Big Sur Gets Better

Perhaps you've heard how Big Sur had a rough couple months...those fires happened just after I went for a camp out at the Sykes Hot Springs so I was particularly hurting for those lumbering mountains (and for a kind old man who I heard about while camping who lives 12 miles deep into the mountains in a cabin, making violins, and hiking out every few weeks to get supplies...I hope he found it safely). Well Devin over at Naturalismo just passed on the word of this benefit festival organized by Arthur, Naturalismo, and Folk Yeah, happening the last weekend in September to support the Big Sur Fire Brigade who were put to the test this season. There's an appropriately epic line up and I think it's worth noting here as a wonderful occasion to head south and celebrate the healing of the Sur.

From what Devin says, there's only a small amount of passes left some grab them while you can, you won't want to be at home alone with all this goodness going on.

Naturalismo
Folk Yeah
Arthur

Backlog Pt. 5: Tent Show revisited

here's some installation and in-action shots I took of the tent that I built for the Tent Show at Kelly Best's space some months ago. I'm going to be having another art show next door at the printshop and gallery of Conor Ottenweller (pictured below with the glasses, reflecting on his unborn-now born!-child)...I'm already in the works planning a show with Lucky Dragons in conjunction with this show perhaps as a second round of Tenting...this time, the image of a "paper cave" is getting me excited...

(personal update: I'm still in Cape Cod...I just got back from an early morning surf with some family, and now I'm out the door for a pancake breakfast...pretty much unbeatable living. enjoy these revisited photomoments.)

Backlog pt.4: Snowblink at the Li Po Lounge

these photographs are from one of the last snowblink shows. We played with our friends 60 Watt Kid at the Li Po Lounge in Chinatown. I felt like we should have been a punk band to really fit in with the scene, but we did our best to act tough.

noted

i just read this,

"My great-uncle also noted that late the previous afternoon it had begun to snow and that, looking out of the hotel window at the city, white in the falling dusk, it made him think of times long gone. Memory, he added in a postscript, often strikes me as a kind of dumbness. It makes one's head heavy and giddy, as if one were not looking back down the receding perspectives of time but rather down on the earth from a great height, from one of those towers whose tops are lost to view in the clouds."

-W.G.Sebald, The Emigrants

Backlog pt.3: Presidio Knights

the presidio is an odd place.

a couple months ago, andy and I decided to have ourselves a night out in the Presidio to see what really happens there, and a lot happened. In the middle of all the old military base housing and forest, we found a bowling alley. it was curious. we went in and were doubled back by a total frat scene. the dude at the counter didn't like our vibe and told us it'd be at least hour wait for a lane, implying that we probably shouldn't bother. we said we'd take a number and take a walk. He told us that if he called our number and we weren't here, we'd be screwed. we said we didn't care.

We wandered off and found that the presidio was a place of silent old buildings, and crowded new event spaces with ridiculous party happenings. we were taking some photos near this boarded up house when we heard a distant music. We followed and and realized that it was the song "Walk This Way" by Aerosmith. Upon further following, we found ourselves at a wedding reception with the most outlandish wedding band rocking their version of that classic boston hit. It was amazing and hilarious, and we stood watching this wedding reception through the window for quite some time. After deciding that the scene was actually kind of sad, we wandered through the cemetery until we got to another reception of some kind. At this point we decided to check back in our bowling situation. As we rolled through the doors we heard our number being called, and to the obvious disappointment of our counter friend, we got our lane and proceeded to remember how good bowling is. Whoa Presidio, you are your own world.

Again

It is august again, and I am back in Cape Cod, the place where wilson summer memory is as rich as this here salty marsh air. I've been soaking in the old haunts, surfing at the first ocean beach I ever went to, making a big drawing of all my G.I. Joes that are like wounded vets living in my attic, listening to my back catalogue of mixtapes that dwell in my parents mini van (I listened to a tape yesterday that I made in 5th grade---nirvana, primus, rage against the machine, ministry. an entirely relentless playlist) ...it's basically the biggest indulgence of nostalgia ever, and it's the yearly retreat that keeps me ticking. In a couple days I'm going to visit the old camp that I went to throughout childhood and teenagehood (which should be especially meaningful now that I've located my purpose as channeling my inner camp counselor in all things that I do). So good.

These visits are steps sideways in time, to look backwards a bit before stepping forwards again, hopefully with a decidedly more direct gate. This time around I traveled without a digital camera, feeling like breath of analogue air, so I'm deciding to use this break to slow down and catch up on some backlogged photos. Hope everyone can find some ageless space this august. see you in september.