just in case you aren’t already in the know, the wonderfully wonderful Handmade Detroit kids have a sweet ass blog that continues to provide some of the most interesting info on, well, handmade tidbits …
and in the name of (more) shameless self-promotion, i thought i’d point out that they have posted a submission of mine for their recent Mitten Maker Monday segment.
its part of a series of little dealies i had up at wlt’s event at the 555 Gallery last summer … and if anyone saw our table at the previous Dally in the Alley i had them displayed there as well.
(i hadn’t originally thought of them as being ‘sale items’
but i sold one for $5 and another for a hug;
everyone has their price, you know)
…
and if i had a match to light,
i’d burn chicago down tonight.
by chris on March 28th, 2006 @ 9:13 am
not much in particular | 1 comment
the wind of a windy so called city
not so much
[ endless] unlike the
rain of a so called forever rainingyetrainless coast
i know an ennn ntire
gen era tion
fil l ll l ed with the
desire to start over in these never forgotten towns
Ss SSs
butwhatdoesitall matter tothis
lost losten lostingness and longing
for endless fortune and time timetime
this time is a tossed thought
colliding into kisses near doorways
and andand \
pressed tight against midriffs and holding onto pasts
aa(hh)and futures
never momentous like we mentioned
im like superman but without the superman part.
by chris on March 24th, 2006 @ 12:30 am
too often, poor grammar | No comments
by chris on March 22nd, 2006 @ 9:59 am
scraps from the archives | No comments
threaded mishandled yearnings and a striving towards unforgivneness
i like to wring my neck and let the years fall out only to be left soaked on the floor this basement wishes for friends and fortune it thinks only one of two cats really loves it for who it is not for the flood washing all things clean.
did we drink ourselves into this filth did we leave the truth buried in carpets and in all the upstairs like hallway closets long forgotten remember that time he got stuck in the walls and only the sound of his crying could forgive the calls to mom feeling helpless and solitary like so many nights to come? remember oh so many nights and so many mornings and so many beds sleeping away and driving away and wishing away the night and wishing the day would just never ever return?
we’d rather crawl into a bed never to leave never to believe this path in front we’ve set only to crumble is filled with all we’ve mumbled into shoulders and handfulls of hair and tears like the nights faded never persuaded so we fill the glass again and know tonight is for nothing if not for forgetting
by chris on March 19th, 2006 @ 10:24 pm
too often, poor grammar | No comments
On Friday, March 31, i will have some photos up at an event curated by .waitinglinetheory.’s own Allison Glenn. The show is at Detroit By Design downtown and features ten or eleven other photographers (should that have quotes around it?) as well.
This should be a pretty fun evening, if yr into that kind of thing … i’m a bit nervous abt getting to show some of my new work; so come on out and give me a hard time abt being all fidgety and appropriately over-sensitive
the secret insider info is that you can expect my photos to be usually very big (like my pick-up truck), and always also very cheap – so come out and buy them up, not bc i need the money, but bc i need the love.
Canapes and Drinks available!
opens at 9 o’clock
Detroit By Design
2944 Woodward Ave.
Detroit
734.658.9248
…
now for this morning’s appropriate stolen quote:
- it’s only the future.
- what if it’s bad?
- i’ll pretend not to see it.
by chris on March 16th, 2006 @ 10:59 am
not much in particular | 2 comments
i believe in nouns or pronouns depending on the day or was it morning by then she said i feel like i might throw up & i thought i know what you mean not now yet not far off & isnt it funny how time jumps or always scrambles & we think we’re so universal but the earths just this bent in every city & every park bench thats no longer there
and yes i say we’re so universal but really its more alarming we’re reassembling nearly everything until our nothingness bleeds out like half-ruined bed sheets to the sound of karma versus a broken record or a lost & found windowless room in the basement of this glass house we think nothings left to belong to driving towards another sunset like we just dont get it this time either
. . .
he said if i taught you anything its to get out gethefuckoutandhow
then i think he said but yr not listening
softly & walking away
-> the scribbling
by chris on March 15th, 2006 @ 9:21 am
too often, poor grammar | No comments
we’re all our time withnowhereto go ;
the rain gentle taps on
bedroom w i n d o w s ,
by chris on March 13th, 2006 @ 12:38 pm
too often, poor grammar |
itsfreeze-tag and naptime-esque
(
likethatauthor i i i i keepstealingfrom,youknow?yet youdon[omitted:apostrophe]t.)
an echo chamber now scrawled in 1s&0s
(whathavewebecome?)stillthat god
ofours keeps screaming abt motives and foreshadowing
isnt that whatimadesitcomsfor,youfuckers
yetarent we all just so wicked never valued as invaluable
we are the night we lost the war
andshe(orallofus) said like a
nostradamusoftheyouthfulness
that keeps slipping in
andout of reach (likeoh,somuchelse)
: : :
id delete itofcoursebut i want ohhowiwant
them all to knowhow much fun im havingand
ofcourse
to seehowhotilooknow
andonceagainyou(notyou)
keep itall hidden like nothingbutthe
Distan c e
wasever between us(notus)
and withasnapofthefingers
must findhowitfeels to [be a] grow[n] up (again)
fillingour selves with the distances (again)
we must keeplearningwhatwedo
bcwekeepforgettingeverytime
and maybe thats the pointYoudidntgetwethought wehad the puzzle solveD
thenlearnedtherestillmorelearninglefttodo
lookingback i (yes,i) knowjustwhen i turned that voodoo on.
[replacewith:capital 'i' throughout]
so many momentspredictingmoments . . . that infinite loop
keeps crashing my
machine. a rebo(0110010)ot ’tilwe stoptherepeat
by chris on March 10th, 2006 @ 10:32 am
too often, poor grammar |
by chris on March 10th, 2006 @ 1:59 am
too often, poor grammar |
lets tell ourselves abt ourselves
everyotherday
(or so )
and wonder abt all the time in between.
lets stare at self-portraits and (silly)know every thought buried inside.
lets sitinwaitingroomsand
drinkthenothingdrink
andremind
newfriends
ofanothingpainfulpast.
let’s live forever this time.
lets fall asleep in windowsills and be the be that never was.
lets forget the hurtforgetthe hurt forgetthehurt
and drown in drowning
drowned in how it just always in all ways feels like
dying.
. all the time.
let’s live forever this time.
by chris on March 9th, 2006 @ 12:08 am
too often, poor grammar |
whowearewherewegowhatwedo
(a big fat puzzled look like historyrepeated
in free-standingfaithless mirrors
)
this is the time for all thingsandwhatifsmaybes and
whyohlordfuckingwhy
ive heard of question marks ringing into the golden nights
and
garbled up into misrepresentations of four-letter words ive seen
you sneaking peeks at traffic patterns and
that one(theresalwaysONE!)
petname rising out of nothing or
chicagogoodlordwhymustyoumakeanotherchicagothistime
zoos and fireworks on the lake andinthedark
abigemptyspace (kindalikeyrpillow s anda whitecat )
like my lack of punctuation could ever truly hide itself insideitself
by chris on March 8th, 2006 @ 2:08 am
too often, poor grammar |
burymyheadinthedirt
iam
destroyer
ofworlds
by chris on March 6th, 2006 @ 8:12 am
too often, poor grammar |
this was found at the office on the back of a page someone printed and then apparently discarded because it’d be bad form to use it as an official memo …
so i stole it.
by chris on March 1st, 2006 @ 9:46 pm
i spy w/ my little eye | 1 comment
