Conceptual Kisses

I would hug a tree made out of newspaper. I ended up with tenfold hugs from the artist of said newspaper-ceiba, post beer/champagne/trampoline/fire/dance-party.

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Bea, John, and I have formed a triad of giggly pretense. John house-sat for Lucy Lippard and drove her car, taking on the ideals of her bumper stickers:  “Keep your theology off my biology” “Save the Galisteo Basin”  “Women make great leaders – you’re following one.”

Unsettled Landscapes is good. Everyone likes it. For the member’s opening Ric Lum made hors d’ oeuvres with foods gathered around the rio grande. Site Guides missed out on snacks and after the show we were to help clean up the event section. Bea and I collected all the decorative legumes/corn/quinoa that were to be wasted in Slatko jars leftover from the last exhibit.

At the Public opening Bea and I came up with pick-up lines related to the show: “Let me settle the landscape of your body”- “I’m interested in the post-industrial colonization of pheromones” – We can get transcendental with non-figurate maps if you know what I mean.”

The Radical Abacus threw a party after the opening. Miller brought beer. Everyone else also brought beer. Merril (king-boss of exhibitions) brought an ax for the “hot wood” John bought at Smith’s. I made chile with a fraction of the aforementioned decorative legumes.  Gianfranco Focshino DJ’d. SITE staff/artists danced – more than I would have expected.

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Blue Curry has a piece connected to a live-stream of the sculptures created when ships come into harbor in the Bahamas. Corresponding to their arrival are beach towels hung on a flag pole outside the museum. Tourists claim beach space with towels: they are flags. At the after party we were going to play dice. We needed floorspace on which to roll so I laid out a towel. I mentioned this to Blue and he said he knew people would make fun of his piece. Little does he know Bea and I want to (do a project where we) kiss conceptual artists on the cheek.

As we were informing guests the museum was closing, I told Miller, who was near his sculpture: “don’t touch the art.” He looked startled and I felt bad for the joke. By 4am at the party we had reconciled any miscommunication. There were endless cheek-kisses before he caught a taxi to a hotel to an airport to Columbia.

I was trapped in fun and left after 5AM. At work the next day Bill had made apple crisp, which he assured me was vegan. “What a beautiful day” I said, to quote an earlier post-party-work-self.

That day two guests commented that I had changed the show for them. I should get a bonus for every time I am working while sleep deprived.

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