Reality

Okay, so I was just reading that Richard Tuttle interview on Artinfo via Ed's blog. What a load of shit. That interview itself is a whole load of 'appearances' - talk about nothing that vaguely appears to be about something. His meaning is completely unclear, muddled, egotistical. The thing is I can sort of guess what he means to say - that art is more'real' when it is direct, less-mediated and can communicate in a way that takes the viewer to a state of elevated experience - truth is involved. but all these words and descriptions end up sounding not only pretentious but sort of bogus too. UGH. i have been trying to unravel what this real and not-real stuff is and honestly you could flip the definitions. Real is getting the coffee made in the morning and picking up your dirty clothes, unreal is sewing 100 tiny red beads into the giant flower on a hot air balloon. Who is to judge other people's experiences of the world? How is one thing more truthful or real than the other? And in the end I tend to side with the idea that our lifetimes here on this world, while important, are illusion. We create our own reality every single moment by way of senses and thoughts. It is our responsibility to meditate our own experience the best we can - take responsibility for it - perhaps artists just want to share their personal realities (the good parts). OK. I am talking in circles a bit but that article pissed me off. If RT is really serious about reality he should look into the study of consciousness because it's a little more complex than "i feel like i am getting at the truth" bs.

Sigh.

Arthur and I met up with EP to see the Hold Steady last night at the Prospect Park Bandshell. I was thinking about this reality bs stuff while I watched the show - which was so great. I love that band. It made me think that just sharing what it is you love is enough. Doing the best you can is all you can do. Oh, I am being so weird this morning. Anyway, the night got weirder. We left and took the train(s) home rather than pay 20$ for a cab that we probably wouldn't be able to find.I was wth Arthur, no biggie. We got off the J at Myrtle, a route I take all the time (albeit not so late) and a bunch of punkass cunts (4 16 yr old boys) totally followed us home. They circled on bikes, then disappeared, then came back. I started to notice it when we were on a desolate stretch. Strangely I wasn't afraid, just kind of confused, partially aware. So as we get closer to our house we could feel them closing in. We opened the gate to the house and one guy is just standing there right at the gate. I turned and said "what do you fucking want?" - and arthur, more loudly, "Easy there, guy, easy" the kid says "what did you say to me? - but in a somewhat meek voice to which arthur repeats the easy there. Then we unlock the door and go inside, slamming door. That was it. They took off. BIZARRE. Are they just getting the nerve up to actually rob someone? It wasn't that scary - just odd. I am chalking it up to kids being bored and having bad role models. They didn't really do anything, but it sucks to think about that happening again and me being on my own. I was mostly worried that they would come back and mess with my flower boxes (they are ok this morning though). Last note - arthur went out to move the car after the punk ass 50cent gang intimidation thingy and had to drive around a bit to find a spot. While in the car at a light some other kids asked for a smoke but arthur repeated the story in a way that he read the way they asked him, etc, was completely polite and normal and he said the flipside of the other. So not to get all hating.

Oh, reality. Special times.