I knew this kid Mikey - I dont know, from around - actually, through a Basquiat lookalike named Devin who had squatted on his floor. Mikey is a real original, covered in amazing poke and stick tattoos. A tall queen who acted like a warm punk. We got thrown together on a bus (and spooned in a tent), when we both agreed to jump around naked on a trampoline in the woods for a photographer a couple months ago, and he finally told me that he was, in fact, a writer, and that he was working on a book entitled 'From the silence of Duchamp, to the noise of Boys".
A few weeks ago he debuted some of his work, doused in face paint, accompanied by an electric guitar and a drum kit in the filthy basement of the yippie cafe on Bleecker street. With kids strewn across the floor and steps, he presented his first masterpiece. I was too entertained to think about taking serious photos, but I like these, and then there are two videos he made of his poems, which are pretty sick. Keep an eye peeled for this wild noisy boy.
12 hours ago