
First Off the Boat
 
link / 0 have made it up
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October 31, 2006 10:37 PM / all night all night |
October 31, 2006 10:33 PM / if the Statue of Liberty... not sure how to finish that
 
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October 31, 2006 10:26 PM / you can call me mom
this is 1mm German marker, orange; nuthin else.  
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October 31, 2006 10:10 PM / i edit diversity essays all day every day
i used German markers and ultrafine Sharpies on this one. this is my first drawing with a human-animal hybrid, and i would like to draw a lot more hybrids like that in the future. also, i think this is the first one of my drawings to make my suture fetish look kinda sporty, like stitching on a baseball or football or something. hmmm. never thought of footballs and baseballs in that Frankenstein-type context before.  
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October 31, 2006 9:46 PM / doctor in the house
i dunno if i'm going to write a novel in November, now. this visual art project seems to be, uhhhn, writing itself? unveiling itself? i cannot remember the last time i felt so compelled to create something every day, seriously. anyway, i'm not sure whether i want to write a novel in November _too_, or whether i just want to give most-to-all of my creative energy to visual art right now. hmmmm... in the drawing above, i drew lines with fountain pen for the first time. the filled-in black is also fountain pen calligraphy ink, same as the rest of the black in the drawing, and the pink is some kind of special ink that is for technical pens and airbrushing, but _not fountain pens_. i tried using it in a fountain pen and, yeah, it did not work. so, lacking technical pens and lacking+much-disliking airbrushing, i dropped some of the pink ink onto this drawing using an eyedropper. i think the ink is made by some dude named Dr Martin, presumably not the same Dr Martin of the popular English boots. the particular color is called 'Sunset Pink'. i believe Innoc is what you call a 'compromised work'. yeah... i'm just so startled by drawing; i have no trouble exhibiting drawn works of mine that i find imperfect/daft/whatever. I Am Grateful. drawing Innoc i thought: what could be more terrifying than totally nonsense graduations on a syringe? that's more or less what i was thinking about while i was drawing it. i had a vague desire, also, to make it look like an illustration from another era, but i don't think that comes across in the finished drawing.  
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October 31, 2006 9:37 PM / rawr
so ok: this drawing. day-glo ink has a long tradition of being used in future-primitive type art, so i wanted to mess around with it while exploring stuff with color. i used highlighters on this one, and as you can see, i had a pretty hard time drawing with them- sloppy stuff. also, when i first started drawing, i got this absurd idea in my head that i wanted to draw dinosaurs. i mean, why? i need photographic reference to draw most things, so fucking hell, why dinosaurs? maybe it's a project for later in life or something, but this particular dinosaur drawing, to me, says: Illustrious Future Ahead In Designing Trapper Keepers. yeah, so. dinosaurs are not actually a muse, i don't think. not right now anyway.  
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October 29, 2006 1:48 PM / phrase on a sundaythe title of Long May It Last comes from one of my favorite songs ever, i could listen to it every day Why Don't You Find Out for Yourself by Morrissey [320kbps mp3 / around 8MB] the album title is one of my favorite puns. Vauxhall is all kinds of things, including a make of car, a district of London, a British bar someplace [maybe also London], and a Tube stop. but also: Vox, Hall and I. yeahhh. go Moz. also, the phrase 'Long may it last' is the best tattoo i've ever seen on anyone. if you're out there, Mary of Los Angeles [you know who you are], i would love to draw your tattoo if you would like to send me a picture of your arm.  
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October 29, 2006 12:24 AM / and now for something completely differentThen I wanted to do something more like painting with a pen: starting with simple color and making fields. Keith Haring wrote in his journals about having these really intense experiences painting with red and black ink on paper in New York City. Yeah, I dig. On this one, I used red and black ink with the fountain pen, and with the shapes, I started on the inside and worked out to make outlines, instead of drawing borders for the shapes first, which is what I usually do. The tablet is too big to fit in my scanner. The photo came out a bit blurry.
 
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October 29, 2006 12:16 AM / reason is treasoni'm pretty sure that my art is fundamentally a line art, but i felt like experimenting with some fields of color today. since i basically don't know what i'm doing with ref to fields and color, i first wanted to make a super-'safe' place to paint fields, so i stuck [1] two of Keith Haring's dudes and [2] a quick impressionistic drawing of parts of Brooklyn on the page. then i made colored fields using a fountain pen and turquoise ink. holy shit people, _fountain pens_. they're amazing! oh, yeah, so far as i know, Keith Haring never actually drew any of his figures with a +. that's my addition.
title from the literal English translation of the German title of the film aka Wings of Desire: Der Himmel Über Berlin, or The Sky Over Berlin  
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October 29, 2006 12:11 AM / some ancient all-knowing bird or something
Other views -->  
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October 29, 2006 12:04 AM / these boys fucking hate Panic at the Disco
-- Detail -->  
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October 29, 2006 12:00 AM / i drew this last night watching late-period M*A*S*H
 
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October 27, 2006 4:44 PM / welcome to redhead city, spread your legs
-- second experiment with the manga pens and different line thickness. this time i used all 3 black markers from the manga set. for the colors i used a couple of the German 1mm markers, some brush markers, and the lightest gray manga marker. and the red hair is the red markup pen again. that's all for now. see you when i can get on the computer again. if i owe you an email, again, i promise i will get to it as soon as i get my laptop back, if not sooner... my webmail client is fucked up and it's not very convenient to set up my POP3 account/etc on other people's computers... so i have several days of email that i haven't even read.  
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October 27, 2006 4:36 PM / For Todd H
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October 27, 2006 4:32 PM / i'm in the middle of out
 
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October 27, 2006 4:30 PM / like i keep telling you: art is only good for the dead |
October 27, 2006 4:17 PM / some men here, they know the full extent of your distress
-- when i got done with it, it seemed proper to cut off the pieces that weren't part of the overall shape of the drawing. i had to crank up the contrast like crazy to get a viewable image of it. skinny lilac lines on white paper don't photograph easily. in real life, the wall isn't nearly so yellow.  
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October 27, 2006 4:12 PM / top of head= grandest shit always
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October 27, 2006 4:09 PM / if green could yell
 
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October 27, 2006 4:01 PM / oh look at how they laugh at you now
 
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October 27, 2006 3:39 PM / where were we?
 
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October 25, 2006 1:56 PM / he casts the most incredible silhouette ever |
October 25, 2006 12:51 PM / babe at 13 anos
-- Ollie has a skyline behind his head [top left] and radiant countries on his shirt because he's lived so many places. this is the first drawing i did with a 'Uniball Vision' pen. it's a writing pen. fine-tip.  
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October 25, 2006 10:42 AM / Happy birthday to someone I've never met
-- this is my first drawing with Sharpie- the 'ultra fine point' kind, of which i bought 24 in assorted colors yesterday for under $1 apiece. bizarrely, the colors have no names or numbers! i wanted numbers!! they give good line, if kind of 'dotty'. it's still maybe slightly thick for paper this size. i have some gigantic easel paper [no i don't have an easel but i have a very big safetyglass desk]; i would like to do a very big drawing with maybe 2 or 3 colors of Sharpie. i still haven't tried the fountain pen + nibs i bought yesterday. i fell asleep before i could.  
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October 24, 2006 9:29 PM / Basically, a way to render the dollarsign holy |
October 24, 2006 9:24 PM / your basic 'boyfriend as equal-opportunity angel'
 
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October 24, 2006 9:21 PM / i always forget which is positive and negative spaceand, obviously, i prefer art that fusses the divide between positive and negative space. but whichever is which, whewee! look i used one more than usual!
 
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October 24, 2006 9:18 PM / But then
 
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October 24, 2006 9:13 PM / Even worse
 
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October 24, 2006 9:10 PM / Too bad for everybody
 
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October 24, 2006 9:08 PM / fantasy
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October 24, 2006 8:57 PM / Hell Yes
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October 24, 2006 8:46 PM / first attempt at 2-tone
but yeah basically i think i like writing and drafting pens the most, for use in drawing.  
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October 22, 2006 4:16 PM / __and |
October 22, 2006 4:14 PM / shit |
October 22, 2006 4:11 PM / i bought this really awkward translation of Count D'Orgel's Ball, sux |
October 22, 2006 4:07 PM / lots of work on +-type signs
 
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October 22, 2006 4:03 PM / right back atcha |
October 22, 2006 4:00 PM / can you tell i fixate on haircuts? |
October 22, 2006 3:58 PM / bubble bubble |
October 22, 2006 3:53 PM / Steven: 'ummm well i guess can see how you might think that looked cool if you were fucked up?' |
October 22, 2006 3:50 PM / A type
 
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October 22, 2006 3:46 PM / i don't know why i like this one so much |
October 22, 2006 3:36 PM / A city I've never visited
-- shopping list: finer pens. so far in the sketchbook i have been drawing only with 'pilot precise zing' pens, which are for writing and keep getting clogged by the heavy paper.  
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October 22, 2006 11:31 AM / Warhol was rightHardly news right? But every time I open a can of soda, I too hear the entire 20th century in America.  
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October 22, 2006 6:59 AM / oh blah blah blah'Well. Excuse me. I'm crunching a cookie. Anyway, Dante's Divine Comedy could not have been written without what I call scriptural astronomy.' -William T Vollmann seriously kids, avoid using the phrase 'what i call' with reference to any famous artwork's prerequisites for existence. what you call. pfffff.  
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October 22, 2006 6:18 AM / 'kill lies all'
 
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October 22, 2006 12:36 AM / Says nothing to me about my lifeBertolucci  
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October 21, 2006 7:50 AM / the antithesis of timeless beautywell obviously the moment was captured, so in that sense, yeah, his beauty is eternal. but i look at Bjørn Andresen aged 15 and i just feel time passing so rapidly, with the intensity of a physical sensation. was he 15? i think he may have actually been 14 in these stills. Death in Venice [hail Visconti] is one of my all-time favorite movies and all-time favorite pieces of art in any media. it's better, even, than the Mann book. shit you not.
 
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October 20, 2006 4:49 AM / titlistso as many of you know, i had the fortune of hitting up the Drawing Restraint retrospective at its only U.S. location, SFMOMA [twice!]. anyone who also owns the DR9 sketchbook either got it at SFMOMA or in Japan. or through eBay etc. this photograph was at the entry to the floor with most of the Drawing Restraint stuff, framed and poster-size, maybe about 30" tall?
 
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October 20, 2006 2:14 AM / Sexy Keith HaringHa, finding shit like this makes me want to manifesto, 'every [populist?] artist of any note, who has ever lived, has made use of the red + at some point.' Warhol's red-painted cross silk screening: easy for_instance. Maybe there are better red +'s in Warhol to discover. Anyway, Keith Haring's art was always a lot sexier than him as a person [although he was incredibly photogenic]. I hadn't really thought about him or his art for a really long time when I most recently started using the +; it wasn't a conscious reference to anything, though I have drawn the + in margins and shit since I was a very little kid. But Haring's art has been in my life an incredibly long time, as it's basically modern art training wheels. The cartoon version. I bought Keith Haring Editions on Paper 1982-1990 [the Katz book] for an incredibly low price, like $25 maybe, in Boston, over ten years ago. It's an outsize book so it's followed me anyplace I've had large bookshelf space, including to Brooklyn. Until I picked up that Mao Mag thing I mentioned, I hadn't thought about Keith Haring or his art for years. In my recent reappraisal of his stuff, I've been pleased to discover [1] dude was a genius
'Untitled', 1985. Yeah, basically all his works were untitled, and their number is staggering. It makes me want to sit down with all his work and title it. I mean, not like I feel my connection to the work is _that_ special or anything, but I'm competent at writing titles. Who does not love to title their artwork? That's fucking daft. It's totally the best part. This 1985 one, I think I call it Red Plus.  
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October 19, 2006 7:47 PM / Sexy Michael Stipe
outfit 1: 2005, 'i raided Conor Oberst's closet, blow me' outfit 2 photo by Todd Oldham; don't know who shot the first one.  
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October 19, 2006 8:46 AM / self portrait |
October 19, 2006 8:31 AM / unfinished
 
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October 19, 2006 8:15 AM / BotchedThis was a masterpiece until I started trying to draw +'s in the lower-left, heh. They ended up looking like crosses because I was using a totally fucked method to draw them. When I was doing this drawing I realized that in terms of my understanding of the +, I'm supposed to physically enact the lines crossing. For me to understand the sign I have to not only make the lines cross, but also, pay attention to especially that aspect. Try to draw around that and it starts looking like something else right away. So yeah. Now it looks like there's a graveyard in the lower left. How emo.
 
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October 19, 2006 8:13 AM / thought colonist
Matthew Barney field emblem fan art, my symbology mixed with his  
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October 19, 2006 8:09 AM / World Flag |
October 19, 2006 8:02 AM / EmbroiderySteven's recent sexy shit inspired me to scan a couple pages out of my sketchbook.
 
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October 19, 2006 7:55 AM / Apparently we've left it to Kasabian to mention Queen Bitch in a songNo matter. I have a Drawing Restraint sketchbook, do you?
 
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October 18, 2006 6:47 PM / Where I grew up
me in my favorite shirt, 2004  
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October 17, 2006 5:01 PM / middleA little under a year ago, Steven and I were driving all our belongings cross-country to Brooklyn in a Penske truck. It was expensive. I took this picture on a day when I was sick, to show that I had gotten a cherry limeade from Sonic that was as big as my head. It really was; it's not an illusion. I think it was 64 oz maybe?
I made it home to Brooklyn safe because I was wearing my lucky sneakers. I didn't know at the time that they were lucky.
 
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October 16, 2006 8:09 PM / Easy as nextIf pleasure is easy, right, then why aren't I handing out awards? Awards make everyone feel good. So: makin crownz. I only want to give very meaningful awards. Yeehaw: the first_ever pleasure is easy Award Made While Screaming [tm*]--> [infinite loop --> first mention]  
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October 16, 2006 1:57 PM / to make the next disclosure more meaningfuli worship the line, the field, and color, but above all the line. it's with the line that letters are formed. [infinite loop --> Easy as next]  
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October 15, 2006 9:44 PM / I couldn't be there |
October 15, 2006 7:46 PM / Half the story |
October 13, 2006 11:35 PM / Flipped At Auction |
October 12, 2006 12:08 PM / oh maybe maybeSexual restraint at the state of the art -- The highest, as the lowest, form of criticism is a mode of autobiography. Those who find ugly meanings in beautiful things are corrupt without being charming. This is a fault. Those who find beautiful meanings in beautiful things are the cultivated. For these there is hope. They are the elect to whom beautiful things mean only beauty. There is no such thing as a moral or an immoral book. Books are well written, or badly written. That is all. The nineteenth century dislike of realism is the rage of Caliban seeing his own face in the glass. The nineteenth century dislike of romanticism is the rage of Caliban not seeing his own face in the glass. The moral life of man forms part of the subject-matter of the artist, but the morality of art consists in the perfect use of an imperfect medium. No artist desires to prove anything. Even things that are true cannot be proved. No artist has ethical sympathies. An ethical sympathy in an artist is an unpardonable mannerism of style. No artist is ever morbid. The artist can express everything. Thought and language are to the artist instruments of an art. Vice and virtue are to the artist materials for an art. From the point of view of form, the type of all the arts is the art of the musician. From the point of view of feeling, the actor's craft is the type. All art is at once surface and symbol. Those who go beneath the surface, do so at their peril. Those who read the symbol, do so at their peril. It is the spectator, and not life, that art really mirrors. Diversity of opinion about a work of art shows that the work is new, complex, and vital. When critics disagree, the artist is in accord with himself. We can forgive a man for making a useful thing as long as he does not admire it. The only excuse for making a useless thing is that one admires it intensely. All art is quite useless. it was for me as it was for many: Oscar Wilde was the first sloganeerist to catch my attention and throat my heart. this is the introduction to The Picture of Dorian Gray, 1891, my favorite work of 'art criticism'. infinite loop --> oh baby baby  
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October 11, 2006 9:49 AM / The Returning AmericanCompelled To Revisit Disaster Sites I'm American But Not In That Way  
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October 7, 2006 11:09 PM / hot for Egyptian tuberculosis much?Me?
Me, I have long held that the best way to code yourself as physically available [which is to say sexually available, yeah, but also something much larger, 'in public' in a way that's morally correct]- the best way is to look a little bit preppy, a little bit young+masculine, and a little bit pink. If I want to look like a whore [a: servant of the city], I imagine a boy in a pink Lacoste shirt with chemically burnt hair, and I try to evoke him through similar gestures. Not the same gestures, precisely. I don't look very good in a Lacoste shirt myself.
Soooo, I wanted to like the new hot pink automat in the East Village a lot more than I do; St Marks Pl -->  
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October 7, 2006 5:14 PM / tbcSt Mark is the patron saint of [lots of things; among them] attorneys, barristers, captives, Egypt, glaziers, prisoners, the Philippines, the Ionian Islands, lawyers, lions, notaries, sufferers of 'scrofulous diseases' [like tuberculosis], stained glass workers, Venice. infinite loop --> hot for Egyptian tuberculosis much?  
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October 6, 2006 10:41 AM / Liar liarGod. Heroes you acquire at age twelve are easy to forget. Not true. That's bullshit. I don't know why I forgot about Keith Haring, the art darling who slips between Matthew Barney and Andy Warhol, a bigger and truer prophet than either. This past week, I reread his diaries and official biography for the first time since 1995. Why can't I be like that? Well of course I can. Why aren't I like that already? Girl? Gah. From Keith Haring's diaries: Ha. He wishes? But he doesn't wish that at all. What a queer thing to say. Something There, Something There, Something Here... And: Swoon. Smart: Killer K. Can you believe his best friend Kermit grew up to make _frames_? Jesus fucking christ.  
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October 3, 2006 2:03 PM / perfecterGeorge Condo on 'what is inside a Keith Haring painting':
i'd like to turn it upside-down and call it 'Suspense, 2006'. ok?  
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October 3, 2006 12:58 AM / Attention Britainman, you've got some mad daft shit masquerading as the vanguard of modern music. i mean, nevermind about Arctic Monkeys, but Bloc Party? Kaiser Chiefs? that shit is abyssmal. Franz Ferdinand, all eyes are on you: will you make a listenable 3rd album? Dirty Pretty Things are already sorted. the New Order of current times, if you will. perfect music dwarfed by the story of The Other Band They Were At One Point.  
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October 2, 2006 2:49 PM / I said yum SALTYeah, I'm still reading Love Is Colder Than Death. I'm a very slow reader actually. pp. 119-120: So now I'm your private secretary. And if there's nothing to do, you'll think of something to keep me busy. The telephone rings. You don't answer anymore. That's beneath you. Mostly, you lie in bed, getting up only when it's dark.... I'm left to invent the excuses and the lies. I'm also your nurse. Not only do I have to cook, and serve you in bed, I must also look after you like a child, to make sure nothing bad happens to you. All night long you've taken cocaine and now it's four o'clock in the morning and you want to sleep. But you're too stimulated, so you have to take three Mandrax pills to calm you down. Then you remember you have to call Ingrid in Paris, to argue with her, so you take two more lines of coke and you're more awake than ever. More Mandrax. Suddenly the telephone receiver falls out of your hand and you collapse to the floor. My God, I think, now it's over. He's had a heart attack. I bend over you and listen to your chest. You're still breathing. You start to snore, so I drag you to bed and try to go to sleep myself. A little later, I find you in the bathroom sleeping very peacefully beside the toilet. I bring you back to bed again. You keep me going day and night. Rainer's relationship with Armin was rapidly deteriorating, too, and both Kurt and Armin were finding themselves more and more frequently locked out of the apartment and searching for places to sleep, sometimes for a week at a time. In March, Rainer shot his version of Clare Boothe's 1973 play The Women, which he called Women in New York. It was filmed in seven days just as he had staged it in Hamburg some months back, his final work in the theater. There were forty actresses and no men in the piece, and when released it was hailed as brilliant by some of his critics and as antiwomen by others. During the staging of Women in New York in Hamburg, Irm had gotten pregnant. As she's said, she always used contraceptives with Rainer, and whether he knew it or not, whenever her period was late, he would fill up with childlike delight, says Irm, "thinking at last it's happened." Their sexual relationship, however, left much to be desired, at least as far as Irm was concerned, and copulation between them was sometimes unnatural, if Rainer's indiscreet confidences are to be believed: there had been vegetable and mineral phallic substitutes. So it was not surprising that when conception finally took place, Rainer was somewhere else. I mean huh? It's one of the only places the book declines to give details. 'Vegetable and mineral substitutes'? I can't tell whether the author is trying to render, like, basically dildos extremely exotic, or whether he's being vague about something actually really bizarre, out of some impulse towards politeness that doesn't seem to exist elsewhere in the book.  
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October 2, 2006 8:50 AM / Robert and Patti in a kitchen
Robert Mapplethorpe and Patti Smith  
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