March 4, 2011 · Absolute Solipsism
Here I am, dissolving into your my fucking testimony. I’m not even trying to be present, am I? I hit the button, the doors slide shut, and instead of standing there like a regular citizen of the vertical transit system, I’m already half gone, vibrating at some frequency the fluorescent tubes can barely keep up […]
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February 16, 2011 · Individualism
Comfort is a fucking lie we tell ourselves. Pretty is a lie. You want pretty, go buy a goddamn Hallmark card or scroll through Instagram until your eyeballs bleed from all that curated, soft-focus horseshit. These portraits of Niki, this is what an artist actually looks like. Not the romantic bullshit version, not the tortured […]
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October 30, 2010 · Collusion
Just as one can compose colors, or forms, so one can compose motions. Alexander Calder So here I am, belly-down on the floor of a Dogpatch studio, camera in hand, staring into the wooden faces of two dead-eyed puppet boys who’ve seen things… Hansel and Hansel. Niki Ulehla makes marionettes. Not the kind you remember […]
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October 8, 2010 · Individualism
No one can give anyone else the gift of the idyll; only an animal can do so, because only animals were not expelled from Paradise. The love between dog and man is idyllic. It knows no conflicts, no hair-raising scenes; it knows no development. Milan Kundera, The Unbearable Lightness of Being I can count on one […]
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September 7, 2010 · Collusion
Speculation: Friends around a table, wine flowing, talking about impossible things like how the fuck we’re going to mount a puppet show in a living room. This is Niki’s vision we’re serving here. And when I say serving, I mean it in the most primal sense. Everyone at this table, Nat included, is there to […]
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July 28, 2010 · Wanderlust
Here it is, mid fucking day in Avignon and the sun’s a blowtorch turned on this stone plaza, 100 plus degrees of Mediterranean fury, and there’s this ghost, this white painted wraith doing Butoh like he’s negotiating with death itself, and I’m the only sonofabitch here to see it. But here’s the thing that breaks […]
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September 7, 2009 · Wanderlust
I open my eyes and the first thing that hits me isn’t the Pacific light knifing through those salt-stained windows or the fact that you’re horizontal in a room where somebody once fucked their way through the Summer of Love, no, it’s the absolute silence. The kind of quiet that makes me understand why people […]
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