March 6, 2025 · Finca Fiasco
Well, as you can plainly see, the possibilities are endless like meandering paths in a great big beautiful garden. William S. Burroughs, Naked Lunch I’ve been places. I’ve seen things. I’ve eaten meals that cost more than my first car and stood in front of art that makes you question everything you thought you knew […]
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February 14, 2025 · Wanderlust
Look at this. Just look at it. The land splitting open like a wound that never wants to heal, and right there in the gash… calla lilies. White as surrender flags in a war none of us are winning. That’s the whole damn joke, isn’t it? You go looking for the void, you walk down […]
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January 22, 2025 · FalseArt
This photography and performance bibliography isn’t a reading list, it’s a goddamn intervention into how we fool ourselves about what it means to witness anything at all. Call it a photography theory bibliography if you need the institutional fig leaf, but this documenting performance bibliography is here to gut the lie of neutral observation. Azoulay […]
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January 10, 2025 · Collusion
I left a six month old baby at home to chase this thing. Let that sit in your chest for a minute. I walked away from someone who doesn’t understand time yet, who won’t remember my absence but felt it in their bones anyway, to go stand on a volcano half a world away with […]
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December 3, 2024 · FalseArt
Francis Bacon painted the shit we’re all too chickenshit to admit we feel at 3 AM when the numbness wears off. Those screaming popes aren’t about religion or some art history circle jerk, they’re about power eating itself alive, about the cage we’re all trapped in whether we’re wearing purple vestments or a stained t-shirt. […]
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November 21, 2024 · Adventure
Charlie’s first time on a sailboat. Monterey Bay at sunset. Three years old and already braver than his old man. Here’s something to know when you take your kid out on the water for the first time: you’re terrified. Not of the ocean, I know the ocean, respect it, understand that it doesn’t give a […]
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November 19, 2024 · FalseArt
Ruth Escobar looked at a perfectly good theater in São Paulo in 1969 and said, essentially, “fuck this”, then proceeded to destroy it. Not metaphorically. Literally excavated the stage five meters down, erected a cylinder clear up to the fly loft, 20 meters of vertical madness, 86 tons of iron, elevators, cranes, suspended cages, gynecological […]
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