if i could travelback in timeand goto 1 concertit would be:portisheadlive at roselandnyc 1997i would alsolike to interviewbeth gibbonsfully knowingthat she doesn’tgive interviews
hellz daze: peace & love
power, corruption, lies….
the weight anddarkness of flowers.
we’re always at a loss forwords when trying to recalla sunset or that feelingbefore a big stormand after…when theclouds liftand the lightbecomes moremagnificent thanon a clear day.even though wethink we have control,we spend every moment of ourwaking lives trying to express,understand and articulate whatwe’re feeling or experiencingon this foreign planetandin our ownmindsto confront that chaoswe use whatever we canget our hands on tomake sense of itand people still ask“why does art matter”?ps:“I couldn’tpossibly tell you.It’s here.Can’t you feel it?everything isin color and I canfeel the air”
lately,i’ve had theurge to stick avintage floweron everythingi make.especiallyon somethingthat is very pureand minimalto makeit explode andbloom like a flower…like the virginde guadalupe!it makes methink of my youthand going to the stickerstore on pine streetI remember having anincredible collectionof flower stickers.i refused to use them.i would just browse throughthem daily and fight the constanturge in my body to rip off theback and stick it!i was quitea restrained child.i still am.once and a whileI have to tell myself to let goof something preciousorput it to usesomethingthat I guard and suffocatewith the routine glance of the eye;the brush of a fingerthere’s nothingworse than curatingobjects like they’rein a museum.I’m guiltyas charged