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Monday, January 12, 2009

what the fuck is tagging?

It's like some form of blogger tag?? In any case, I just got it done to me, so here it is:

1.go to your documents

2. go to your 6th file.

3.go to your 6th picture.

4. blog about it.

5. tag 6 friends to do the same.

This is what I got:

Here's the story with that flick:
On a super last minute whim, I booked a ticket to New Orleans because I read about the opening of the largest biennial on US soil, ever, in the NY Times. (Literally, it was Wednesday's paper the week of Halloween, and I flew out on Friday morning.) My Godfather, Diego, is a pretty important guy in the art world. He's a curator and a private dealer, and has a long history with New Orleans, where he is the photography curator of the NOMA. Diego invited me to stay with him while I was there, and cart me around.
D is famous for the dinners and shindigs he frequently drags his friends too that are likely to blow the mind. My flight was on Halloween - JetBlue JFK to NoLA. When we landed I walked past Uma Thurman sitting on the floor of the airport with the contents of her suitcase splayed out in front of her. That first night I went along to a costume party where I saw, what I'm pretty sure was, one of the directors of the Whitney Museum in a homemade cow suit with a tail and black and white splotches. Oh man. The mysterious southern cocktails made me feel like I was on mystical gumbo acid.
On night two of our summery art excursion D invited me to join him at an invitation only, sit-down 'feast'. His friend Kirscha runs a gallery organization that spans 6 houses on a run down block in the 8th ward that falls between Music and Arts streets. She bought these dilapidated houses, renovated and lives in one, and does full scale installations in all of them, trucking in the art world elite to mingle with the ghetto rugrats that she doesnt bar from her block parties.
When I arrived I found a table made of what looked like beautiful drift wood, that literally spanned the entire block. No joke, THE ENTIRE BLOCK, straight down the middle of the street. Bedecked with candles, places set with names, hand potted mugs, chopsticks made of feathers, the table burned down the tarmac, lined with covered fire pits on either side, sporadically placed to warm the guests. On the porch of an abandoned house in the middle of the block, Diego had set up a local gypsy band, and a DJ, that he had hired as 'musical curator' for the evening to pluck on violins and banjos, etc.
I had brought my camera to shoot what I could, but it quickly became too dark to see anything, since it was all lit by nothing but the fire pits and street lights.

Uma, it turns out, is an old friend of D's, and she was to be in attendance. Apparently, she had been texting him all day and the night before, and had finally decided that yes, she was indeed going to show up to this dinner. Somewhere in my two hours of swigging more mystery drinks at the pre-game on the street, (this time it was called Mystery Something-or-other, and it was a jet black vodka based time bomb) I saw her swirling around the party in a floor length gown, and sneakers.
By the time the chefs, who were parked in a truck at the end of the block, were ready to serve the first course (which was laboriously distributed on thick, wooden frisbees by costumed servers), I was legitimately drunk.
The designer of the table had neglected to design a break in it at any point for easy access to the other side, so for those of us seated at the middle of the banquet, the options were to walk all the way to the end of the block and around, or crawl under or over the table. D and I went under.
The places were marked with these beautiful, hand calligraphied black envelopes with people's names on them, and there were four with 'Diego' on them. This picture was the one in front of me.

So there's the basic story. It goes on with how Uma was seated next to us and I bummed cigarettes from her all night and we played with the local children, with whom she became obsessed with mothering, and later slipped an older girl a hundred bucks to take two of the younger boys home to sleep, and I finally revealed to her that we shared a film debut before she swept off with her posse of seven straphangers, just before the waiters started distributing absinthe shots and we disbanded to 'the brickyards' to an outdoor concert and danced behind a factory in the moonlight,... But you're not interested in all that, right?

So, I have to tag some people now? I don't really have any friends that blog!

1. Georgey! I can't say more because his blog is supposed to be anonymous.

2. Texas.

3. Anthony Lister. He blogs shit occasionally.

4. Kofie. It's usually news with this guy, but he's got some gorgeous polaroids that are personal that could rap about if he wanted to..

5. Charlie Isoe,, since he is reluctantly returning to the world..

6. Ale Zuek! That's sure to produce a doozy.