The irony is that, at the moment I decided to start blogging more thoroughly for you, I got glomped with such a hellwave of work that I never leave the house. Still I’m going to try. Not least so I remember what I’ve done, and not just a tangle of ink lines.
Came home to Romney stickers. Demographic targeting money well spent!
Made a poster for Russian art punk heroines Pussy Riot. Received the silkscreens of another poster job for Seekrit Fancy Client
Read biographies of Gainsbourg and Tsvetayeva.
Started Syntagma Athena, my sixth Shell Game painting, on Greece. Finished Discordia, my art/journalism project on Greece with Laurie Penny. I can’t show you yet
Painted, never enough, on the fifth Shell Game painting, Our Lady of Liberty Park, which is about OWS. The lady wears a ruff made of kettle netting.
Sketched out a contorting Stoya for a private mural commission
Now my hand hurts wickedly, and I have to punch it to keep going, but I’m enjoying the calm isolation of work. I read about Diego Rivera and imagine him doing his frescos at The National Palace. Sixteen hours a day on the scaffolding, shooting at conservatives coming to deface his murals, racing against the drying plaster. For years. Monstrous prolificness. I imagine him racing across the walls like John Henry racing the steam drill through the mountain. Then I make my little efforts.