it’s been some time now. “with or without reason.”
WHEREAS, Languidly/Externally/Unsuitably/etc, Lxs Hu3rf(A)nos/pUT0s/Cr10s wandered from New York to New Orleans, through a multiplicity of Residencies, nicked T.A.N.G. (footage here) in St. P, and plunged from Miami into America LatIn, storming streets, bars, galleries and mus[ol]eums with a series of becomings, landlocked and outlawed, othered and spun. Below like mycelia are a series of representations and catalogs one might consult in pursuit of historiographies approaching wholity: *vintage*/ *feminine*/ personalized eastern / LINX
After one last five day Art Residency in the Fort-Lauderdale Airport, we landed on Other Earth, speaking Other Tongues. After Family, when April had passed her middle age we started southernly, to break ourselves upon our dash through nations. Again to Ipiales, Quito, Jungles.
In Peru (which is otherwise Ssswimminlgy) I somehow shed almost all of my digital limbs in a pastry shoppe when my little computer & ex-hard drive was snagged, and since then I’ve been a little left out in the cold from our contemporary MMORPG-style intellectual socius. Moments before the elopement, I had been dwelling around the creation of a project detailing Absence/Presence discourses in the context of a bodiless Web-Sphere, and have found that concept squarely punctuated by these past twenty weeks. Privilege as Math? Well.
Having passed Colombia’s familial strains, and the jungle tourists of Ecuador, we were through Peru’s solidarity and the eternal snaking desert who fed snakelike into pockmarked Chile and its snowy hospitality-po, and finally over the pass to rainbow mountains and Argentina, where we had been accepted to an art residency program in La Plata outside Buenos Aires.
Residencia Corazon offered a total inversion of the backpack’s physical limits. If there was a thesis or crowning center for my working body, it was my procedural construction and ambulation with this metaphor. Themes include: sisyphus, perspective weight, el mundo aparte, idiot-heroism, false artist gods…
In addition, we created a small menagerie of box worlds, diagrams, estatuetas, drawings and performance forumulae.
But last and most, we acquired the Horrible Tyrant, the Glorious One, the Patchwork Symbolist Messiah, Mugre. He was a nothing then, a furry trundle, messy on the street. And we snatched him. And we raised him. And we made him one of us.
[Hatefully, the Kickstarter I attempted to launch to cover the costs of the program was unaccountably quashed after weeks of silence. (here is the aborted kickstarter text) As a result, I will be happily if retroactively accepting commissions on a more personal level. Ah So!]
Returning north was a long hitch in hurting cold, more with a heady choosy puppy. But finally Bolivia opened to us. Swallowed us. And soon Peru had shat us out again into Florida, where racist NRA maniacs yell faggot at young people in torrential rain and leave them for dead on the highway. But at long last, with tears and laughter, trust identity crises, poly-monogamy, and a third leg, we have come back to the Northeast, separatists.
THEREFORE, We do want to investigate locomotive norms, travel literature as life fan fiction, and kitsch gypsyist nomad-colonialism; to hunt dogs through paradises; to examine Eternal Honeymooning rituals as a dualist problematic, a necessary musical tryst, eternal-return/death;
I want your film. I want your analyses. I want your dearth. I want the claws of your eyes.