I didn’t write my dreams in time to catch them. Fell for the classic trick: “that’s obvious, I’ll remember that.”

Yet another Italian bank holiday.

The good dog was on the stairs but not the nice man. I patted the good dog and went inside with my groceries.

Made Tom Ka Hed. Put together some ideas for my Ssssshut Up Series. Worked on some music.

Kamille messaged. I messaged back.

It started raining. I thought “This is not stereotypical gelato weather” Then thought “The sun will come out and the gelateria will be crowded”

The sun came out and the sky was perfect and I asked Jonas out for gelato.

Jonas was still in Sweden and we chatted for a while.

I made a facebook status about listening to jazz in the afternoon sun, in a clean house, reminding me of my mom. Alexi Mexi commented. 

I made a video of a bug crawling across the table. 

I made spaghetti, verdure mista, and pomodoro for Nicolas and me.

We went out for gelato.



It was some Italian bank holiday.

Worked on my grant proposal.

Wrote several postcards.

Ate lentils and toast, watched Better Call Saul, sent the proposal draft to David Dirks.

Messaged Christian about daily stuff and tru love.

Messaged Noah about fighting Fabrica’s social media team, then chatted about VR raves.

Messaged Fabrica about their errors.

(they posted my interview, omitted the part in “what I miss of home” where I mentioned there only being two genders in Italy, and mis-gendered me when I had clearly specified the language they should use – pretty ironic really, backs up my original point).

Messaged Kamille about not coming to Berlin this month.

Went to sleep. Had a little insomnia.


Showing mom my installation video. Autonomous vapour holograms of people moving around, sitting on stairs.

Waking up like “dang, my projects are better in my dreams.”

Messaged Kendra: “It’s time to go running!”

We did.

I didn’t come to the Damien Hirst exhibit (lol). I worked on my grant proposal. Amazing how long writing your plans/dreams can take. Gotta find all the right words.

Being in the house alone was a treat.

I added several grand to my grant proposal to accommodate me living alone.

Going to sleep I relaxed into the feeling of no one being around. Nothing like it. It felt like a little squiggly purple line unwinding in my upper back.


A website that kept live-data of when people were certain places? You had to login. And the places were ilegal?

Negative space streets of Venice.

I was a tall boy with blond hair.

Woke up at 3:30. Woke up at 6:30. Iphone note dreams, coffee, running by the river with 10m meditation. The rest of the dhal.

Bought the new-used red racing bike. Bike-dad was happy I was happy, I was happy bike-dad was happy I was happy.

Zoomed to fabrica like a hell-bat.

Went to Mensa with Matteo. Talked about music. Just now I put 99 Jakes new release (Stairs Descending Into Heaven) on Matteo’s wall and we are listening to it, loudly, in headphones across from each other, and both of us are laughing about it.


Woke up to a facebook notification of dad tagging me, Noah, and Andrew (cousin) in a comment on mom’s post about how the patriarchy is the root of all problems:

“I was talking this morning about my children’s rejection of binary gender, my model of drag performance and how it had nothing to do with my sexuality and everything to do with my desire to smash the patriarchy.”

Spent some time thinking about how lucky I am to have a hip and understanding family.

I was hungover. Had a wonderful and productive day in spite of this. In a meeting with Marta and Angelo about logistics of Athens we planned a timeline with a photoshoot for press, time for testing the finished piece, etc. Marta is giving us the remainder of the budget for food and transport “let’s make it cushy” she said. “Bring your bathing suit” she said “is that in the budget?” I asked. Marta winked.

At mensa there were crostini with bell peppers, without cheese. #MensaMiracle

Excerpts from ensuing swimwear conversation:

“…I am designing a swimsuit and the question is: turtleneck/long sleeves or topless? Either way it will be some severe-agender-beach-realness.”

C: long footie pants w skinny suspender overall straps.
M: Settled!
C: and maybe like a jodhpuri pant. and i would love to see an adustable epaulet attached to that strap ;)
M: “We’re going to the pool, which color epaulet should I bring?”
C: is this getting too equestrian? aquarian equestrian? SEAHORSE
M: ^Actually the perfect name for this new swimwear line.^
C: AQUAstrian 💀
Kate Bot: Just a body pouch. No discernable form, just limbs poking out.


The skeleton of the Sabatager is in the garage. Both wheels had been stolen by the time I retrieved it, after it broke on the way to my gig at Django. I walked the half hour home, promenading with the felled beast on my shoulder. I didn’t want to deal with explaining the carnage to the bike shop guy this morning – I’m waiting till payday to discuss trading in the frame for a discount on a new used-steed. So I walked to Fabrica, like I do.

When it started hailing I held my shirt over my headphones. It trailed behind in the wind, I was singing along to “Top of the Hill” and feeling epic. A nice Italian woman picked me up. I told her she was a saint and gave her directions to Fabrica. We sang along to “You make me feel like dancing” confirming my ever-growing suspicion that Italians love disco.

My feet remained wet until it was time to walk home. It was a beautiful storm-sky golden-hour. I Wondered if I should get walking potion at Ins, felt I shouldn’t, then did. Nicolas laughed at me. Alexis and Nick came home. Gianni came by to borrow my ipad, give me a chocolate egg, and ask me out for a drink.

We shut Trevisi down, mostly talking about crushes and stuff. He told me an elaborate and illuminating story of how he cast a girl in a movie, the actor dropped out and Gianni stepped in (kiss scene), then the girl reversed the script, did the same moves he had written, to him, and then they dated for a year. Other than that I explained the word “cisgender” and the concept “nonbinary.” Was a good night!


Displaced “resident DJs” in line for housing/foodstuffs.

Definitely something with elephants! Like hanging out with them and hugging their trunks and thinking about what they symbolize in dreams, halfway lucid-dreaming.

I think I could be happy in a lot of places. And I am happy here. I have felt nostalgic about Fabrica since before I got in, basically.

There are some things about where we were raised that are fundamental to our reactions to the world. Like today, at Panorama, out the window I saw the golden hour illuminating storm clouds and intermittent rain. I sighed audibly, like someone in love.

This is my absolute favorite weather, and it is probably because I’m New Mexican. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to see rain as something other than a treat, regardless of how frequent it is wherever I’m living.

Xtian messaged. I had seen the pictures of him, Sarah, and Angelo at White Sands. My favorite people in my favorite place. “I’m at the point here where I feel like I have close friends, and that people love/accept me, but I miss you all! I can only dream of how fun it will be next time we’re all in close proximity.”


If I could just work as hard, or as reasonably, as I possibly could, to make my dreams come true, that is what I would do. Okay, good thinking. Will do ;)

The frontier.

How do you make the most kick ass tracks? I guess you just gotta sit down at the kitchen table and do it. Or wherever “the studio” is. I guess I just gotta spill out the hit records that are waiting in me like a dance move. Waiting in me like a dance move. Find the small movement and make it big.

Before sleep: I can’t believe that I have feet and that sometime my flesh will be gone and my bones will be gone

Sidenote: My feet are smaller than they are. They are so tiny. They defy physics.


Antti, Akanksha, and I stood under the archways in the center of town, admiring sunlight filtered through rain, sharing a beer. We decided to go to my place before the show so I could make everyone dhal, rice, and salad, rather than just have alcohol for dinner like all of us had been secretly planning.

Leo joined us. Antti sharpened my knives, then laughed the hardest I’ve ever seen him laugh as he altered the toy from a kinder surprise that has been sneaking into all of our beds.

Carlo came, I played Los Saicos. Nicolas complained we were being noisy and we left. I wrote Nicolas a quick fb message apology, saying I’d buy him a gelato.

Carlo gave us a ride to the party, where they had a terrible sound system and hadn’t positioned the speakers properly. I still danced extravagantly. People came up to me like I was famous, mentioning my set from a few weeks ago. “You’re a legend in Treviso now” said Leo. I giggled.


Xtian is going through his yellow phase, and wants a big yellow hat.

Me: Noah and I were talking about our next DJ sets. Noah was like “dark and angular and blue” and I was like “that’s so funny, I am going warm and fuzzy and yellow.” (The playlist where I am collecting tracks is titled “gold dots.”)

Then I was thinking about how Noah and I both get ocular migraines and both think about music in terms of shape/texture/color and am like “yeah, through lines” and also “how do you study this like a science-boy?”


Also been thinking about the next life step

what’s next who is Filardo

Me: Yellow set is def black and yellow and dots, but some silver blips are sneaking in so it’s maybe just rich-minimal-dark.
I have an afternoon-sun playlist that’s fierce-yellow though.

“Golden hour on the beach”


Found myself looking into another blind spot at my desk.

Went to get a coffee.

Met Leo’s cool friends, who Ainhoa was showing around because Leo was home sick. I described the interesting color palette going on in my field of vision, which was probably actually not at all interesting to anyone else.

Sound had an extra layer of reverb and everything smelled kind of “sunlight.” Everything felt very bright. I had a confusing time sorting through the echo in my voice to tell Angelo what was going on.

He took me to Monica’s office, who said I shouldn’t see a specialist because that’s expensive, but that I should go home and rest. “She is a doctor” said Angelo. We rode the bus together. The aura dissipated and the headache kicked in. He asked how I was doing. “I can see!” I said “I still feel confused but it’s kind of fun.” He said he liked the “glass half full” perspective.