Lesser Alvarez Gonzalez - Renaissance Chic

Amazing how the weather is a complete schizophrenic mess. I appreciate spring and the fact that I can wear a dress with no layering in December but I am much more focused and ready to work at home in my room as long as the weather remains Frightful. Regardless, I will venture out later and bike to the river, drink some wine and bite on some cheese.

and then...........................

Lesser Gonzalez Alvarez

This morning I clicked on my friend's link to Lesser Gonzalez Alvarez, a musician he was distracting himself with during dreaded finals week.  The music I heard was intriguing and soundied much like a medieval troubadour lost in the streets of Barcelona. Lesser is a renaissance hobo who plays with childlike lyrical combinations and Beatles' styled harmonies adding wonderful touches of flamenco rasqueados and good old folk melodies. The man is plain out interesting and got me really going with a link to a collaborative drawing project he posted on his myspace blog. Down the rabbit hole and what I found was a beautiful maze of wonder, jam packed with all sorts of poems, interactive videos, photographs, drawings, and music. I have added some smatterings of the fun here. But really, visit the site and enjoy the artistic schmorgasboard for yourself. www.lessergonzalezalvarez.com

Interactive Monster Face Video

LGA poem:

Dufus

As an adult, sometimes I think

my cellphone rings and I almost

picking it up everytime

Feel like real Dufus

I once found a pair

of Silver Oakleys at Disney World

Orlando -sometime before teens

& stuck them to my face

to feel America's little hands

clasp my hot and fresh eyeballs

I drew O's on them

Then I think went on a ride

or can't remember like 19th century headache

but I saw a family talk to another family

away by several meters

on a Television screen in booth like

a future bean dildo diving bell

I could have snorted

all that freedom.

Birthday wishes and something along the lines of X-mess madness

Today I spent most of the day making digital gifts for a couple of cool folks...birthday wishes mostly and decompressing from the holiday crunch in the warmth of my treehouse. I almost always prefer birthdays over all out holidays (the exception being Halloween). It just seems to me that my life is always in carnival mode, each day yet another reason to celebrate new friends, new art, new sensations and joys. I'm Colombian and I suppose I fit the firecracker stereotype. Party hard, make art and then, MuErToAD.......

First on the birthday list was  JUGGERNUT
who is one of my favorite performers, an experienced drinker and comic book artist. His music is a mash of industrial beats and horror pop theatrics. One of his most infamous performances is for his sometimes banned song STUN GUN (police confiscating stun guns), where he threatens audience members with a live wired stun gun yelling the lyrics...stun gun stun gun!! As far as I know two people have actually gotten stunned - both of whom are good friends of Mr. Juggernut. On calmer days you might just find him roaming the lower east side or the deep innards of Bushwick drawing some nut sack inspired comics or on his way to the ever so lovely dive Mars bar where he will be performing on January 11.

The second artist on the birthday list was Christina Schmid from Germany, whom I met during her vacation to New York this past spring. Christina is a graphic designer, lover of fine German breads and sometimes wallet maker.
She recently sent me an invitation to contribute work to a yearly  Advent Calendar
she designs. It is composed of work from friends and artists she has met around the world and is simply a wonderful collaborative way to countdown those hectic holy days while exploring some new art. The calendar is an eclectic mix of video, photographs, hand drawings, songs, animations and even "how to" picture instructions on building your own designer Xmas tree.

If you are interested in Christina's wallet just shoot her an email and she will be glad to fashion one together in any of the above candy coated colors. Candy Coated Wallets mmmm!

Bacano, Padre, Chevere, the tits.

The mornings always start with coffee no matter what, there are seriously no exceptions to this rule. Thinking of the past morning I contemplated fasting and having meditative moments where I could reach into some transcendental brain clouds. My body can wait but it soon hits a shutdown point where food becomes an insatiable need, a function that I can't ignore. Right now I am ignoring sleep because I want to finish my drawings and books and possibly write some handwritten letters/postcards to people I truly care about. However, if you clone me will I still be able to laugh at the same jokes? Or enjoy the same books? Or taste my favorite food the same way? SLEEP?

I once had a cookie with Vietnamese coffee, chocolate chips and almonds. The gentleman selling them paid $6,000 for his booth at union square. I paid $2 for his delicious cookie.
  Barf 

Current Book list:

• Gilles Deleuze - Critical Essays
• Ken Kessey - Sometimes a Great Notion (schizophrenic portal into the old Pacific Northwest)
• Nicolas Slonimsky - Lexicon of Musical Invective (critical assaults on composers since Beethoven's time)

Musics:

• Ethiopiques: ANY volume
• Brain Eno - Music for Airports

SUNDAY night I stumbled in on the Oregon band LOVERS <3<3<3<3

Yesterday This past Sunday was a full platter kind of day. YBBS! continues to record in Harlem with Mr. Dave and I believe we have some wonderful tracks that are slowly forming into the future of future sounds. Mom, we are making babies that sound like other babies that maybe come from the sea floor or possibly the duodenum.

Beats is the word and rhythm is my muse...wandering we go, indio....


......and when we finally decided to venture into the night, Bushwick became Siberia. We were lost and grey for a brief moment until we rang the bell at Soul 2 Soul ~ a wonderful local bar near Goodbye blue Monday for Brer Brian's weekly Sunday open jams (starting up again on January 3). There we met up with some of my favorite musicians Brer Brian , Spencer , Christina B who were all jamming and meshing in musical harmony. The crew made some noise and we decided to only stick around for a tiny moment because the wind outside was fierce and my fingers were beyond icy.

....4 blocks later we were in front of the Market Hotel and of course we have this ritual my friend kidrainbow and I, that we must always peek inside the Market no matter what. It has almost never failed to surprise us and last night was no exception. We walked right in to witness the last four songs of the Oregon based band LOVERS . Three beautiful women playing pure electro pop love songs that made me want to cuddle/dance with small furry animals. Fragile but sweet harmonies, glitchy chirps and a tight drummer all made me love Lovers on this desperately cold winter's night.
Check them...... <3

OOOOoooo NEON INDIAN ooooOOOO @Market Hotel

December 18, 2009....me encontre en el Market Hotel (anteriormente un speakeasy dominicano) con el Neon Indian, el proyecto electro pop/rock de Alan Palomo (tambien conocido por su trabajo en el proyecto VEGA).

Not surprising.....simply exciting.

NEON INDIAN

Este chiquillo, de origen mejicano crecido en tejas le puso las pilas a la noche. Con la ayuda del baterista Jason Faries y un bajista (nombre no me recuerdo) Neon Indian se propuso a traer una energia unica, calurosa que le trajo vida a la presentacion electronica, que usualmente me deja fria. El resultado fueron sondios extraterestres mescaldos con elementos de funk. Sumamente bailable y lo que puedo describir al ver su presentacion fue semejante a lo que me imagino son los 'glitches y tweeks' de una colonia de microbios.

Microbial space funk.......Neon Indian is the junk.....crunk and dancing to their beats, this boy Palomo can play me his songs any day of the week.

Anti-rape with a lttle bit of unintentional arousal

arkitipintel.com/2008/01/14/rape-axe-the-anti-rape-condom

I feel slightly saddened by this image. My heart has called many lovers predators despite the fact that I have willingly invited them into my life. My friend explained this to me...it is all about penetration and how its physical manifestation explains the reasons why women acquire feelings even if they mentally prepare to give themselves casually to their lovers.

I personally, am trying to refine my standards and value my time. I put this personal bit of information out to the world because in my heart I truly believe there are people of quality and understanding. I am also at a point in my life where I need a lot of transparency with the people I choose to surround me.

Here is the link to Santiago Sierra's Art/porn film shown at Art Basel....if you've evern been curious about the mind of a sex addict, her it is.

http://www.santiago-sierra.com/200807_1024.php

Life after life after life...Basel, penetraitors, and inanimate boyfriends

There are too many songs, too many words and too many lost loves. For breakfast my grandmother made me wonderfully simple eggs with a fluffy arepa filled with love. On the beach I transformed myself into a golden nano particle and rode a large and slow bus from the mall to the beach finally walking to the enourmous warehouse filled with art.

Yes,there was a lot of art but the energy seemed predictable, too late to fit in my timeline. Note: My thoughts on Miami are filled with 18 years of jaded bias but I do appreciate the glimpses into Dubai's and Mumbai's gallery scene. I did have a brief connection with the spanish artist Santiago Sierra's porn/art film, which described his perspective on race relations and the conquest of the new world. For a brief moment the film allowed me to relive a cold unemotional feeling I wanted to push out of my being. A love addict's pain is a sex addicts venom.

Los Penetrados

I feel that I will be a ghost for the next week - completely off the grid. No phone and no computer (at least until i get a new adaptor). I am available to document in house calls involving strong telepathic connections directly into to my neural pathways. If you are interested please send me a smoke signal.

....and here begins my retreat
revealing oxygen through rough air
a silent sun song reveals dusty remnants.
Those clouds emerge like artic tundras
but I won't wait for peak moments
because if rare is hope then I have gone missing.
where is my time if not in pieces?
where are those growing roses destined
to fight the rough mass of death
I suppose I will hold it in for just a moment,
for just one more moment I will despair and cry and shout and mourn the death of a lost moment for which there was no time long enough to find my way to her.

Music for 16 Futurists: The Future Sounds Like an Electric toothbrush

As a performer my agenda is to transform "play" and childhood wonder into an equal opportunity art form. This year's visual arts performance festival PERFORMA 09 legitimizes this play and packages it into bite size morsels.

The 2009 commission: Music for 16 Futurists - Noise Intoners (intonarumori)asked modern composers and performers; including Elliot Sharp, Ulrich Krieger, Mike Patton and Tony Conrad to create new pieces based off the compositions of Italian futurist painter Luigi Russolo. The compositions featured a range of structured and improvised sonic playgrounds in which the sound of revving engines, mechanical toothbrushes, bees buzzing, tension cranks, and hums melded to create a landscape of mechanical chanting. Russolo's quote, "There is no such thing as silence," proved especially true as I continuously felt the need to add my own chair squeaks, sighs and occasional cellphone vibrations to the pieces. My fidgeting and scratching added texture while the constant whispers in between pieces extended each performance.

My favorite portion of the evening included Ulrich Krieger's Back to the Future, California or what I like to call "Nervous Breakdown w Pocket Trumpet." The piece was silly and manic, engaging the audience to participate in what seemed like an argument we could never win. The audience felt helpless as Krieger hurled insults and irrational logic. After the fact I realized that yelling back would have been completely acceptable and probably written into the actual score.

The audience was also composed of Bushwick performers I recognized but don't actually know ie. "The Boy With the Wedding Dress and the Tiara" whose performances I have randomly sabotaged (in a good way). I was hoping he would have feigned some exasperation at some point in the night and demanded his place on stage.

Overall, the performances were pretty conservative if not a bit boring for my taste. As a re-creationist recital it was a success and I appreciate the opportunity to hear Russolo's instruments as they were originally meant to be experienced.

However, my recommendations for a more forward thinking performance would have been to ritualistically burn the instruments; branding them as the underlying framework of our mechano/industrial past. We should learn the techniques in order to forget them and become more intuitive as performers.

a little bit of doggy love

koocmmcook

In consideration to myself. A year has passed and all I ever see are tomato plants growing here and there and in my hair and in my pizza and in my pasta. I think of the sauce they could potentially make, then I think of the salad I already ate that had the cute plum ones. Tomato skin peels off easily when left to stew in their own juices for hours, but you must be patient. Grape, plum, beefsteak, vine ripe; the tomato is a veggie and can also be seen as a fruity delight. i particularly enjoy the sundried variety which substitutes for meat any day.

Acidic yet sweet, tomatoes fit right into your life as raw as grass or cooked to the last pulpy bit.

Go have one. caress it and let it know how much you appreciate the fact that it has most definitely altered the course of human evolution.

 
 
 
 

 
 
 
 

A second wife, protection when you need it

close
not really
just in time
but briefly, please
because in time
we may have a brief
moment
to dance slowly

like a million pieces

I have to prepare your bed
for your late arrival
in a thousand years I will feel your light
will let it pass my way
not stopping to chat
just walking away
towards the sun to say goodbye
and the air inside is chilly
so clap your hands silly till they fall off
like ships off cliffs and and noisy crick-ets with paper rimmed glasses
and ants crawl on molasses
safely tickle my back and you can't take it back
an apology makes no thing right
justify your fears in the face of my almighty being

I feel like I'm talking to myself
with a bowl of Chinese
and a head like balloons
a couple of squares on my pants
like peanut, jelly, there goes France
go play some tag or capture Flags
stomp the shores and tell me jokes
some boys like girls
some girls like honey
rivers, steam and lots of money
I losing sleep
embedded teeth
lots of lollis make me weepy

tin hats love to melt on the surface of the sun

I'd never experienced rejection like this. For years I had simply loved the person I was with to the fullest extent of my capabilities, years of fidelity and rejection of my ego, my desires. Where childhood daydreams kept me locked away day after day, isolated, rejecting those around me for lacking everything I needed. As an adult it is painfully clear that my love will never be equally exchanged and loneliness seems to be the one constant. However, I still wake up with an intense need to give; time, care, food, warmth, touch, conversation.

So yes I love all the people that love me. But most of all I love all the people and things that hurt me and make me question and change me and shake me out of my occasional stupors.

Rejection, not a reverse ejection, a non-erection, going in the wrong direction, with perfect diction I was told that there was no love for me inside of him for him to share meant to use up the last drops of emotion at the bottom of his heart's well. He could possibly die if he loved me. He could wither away into dust from past sorrows and hate that had dried up all of his tears.

perfection like a soft palm on my face and a walk through the land that cradles me.
time spent together laughing and holding your hand baking you a pie. caressing my hair and the natural stares in my direction.

Yes, its deep out there, deep enough to get us through, to satisfy our thirst and cleanse our souls and wash away our fears. But you quenched me when I cried out, the only way you could. Selfishly though, for both of us our meeting hearts don't beat like they used to anymore.

a trip of peanut brit

Mr. wonder make me drowsy enough to sleep and dance, then walk away so fancy pants
heard that eye full of glass and voices like light beam tractor seams
retractable seats stacked high in mass with lonely hearts and lungs
Mr. Non-baby you wonder to seem lonely
wandering through those steamy scenes behind fake trees
you start to feel creamy and sometimes deliriously cry
out for the horses, cows, mask avenger knights. fairly fairy furry worms
yet again its non of my concern to fight
to like flutes on stereo
or fools who ask for special plain jane anything
and nothing somewhere now is leading to almost a quarter mile out to anywhere, then
my half
my whole
my taste, a waste full of teardrops
full of joy
full of lightning bugs
in case you hear my voice let it land next to you
let it stand beside you
and let it find its way back slowly
towards equal steps away from you, let it walk back into me.

Sunny breeze dun took me away.

Landing back in Brooklyn feels lonely and very much like a family reunion smooshed all in one. I hugged my bike, breathed in the air, saw the sunrise from my apt and don't want to ever neglect my home as much as I have done so far this summer. However, I did get to see some amazing music much of which i would not have done had I not taken this crazy tour/job. Google the concert lists for ALLGOOD and ROTHBURY FESTS after you finish reading.

Back to what I want and need to say about all my life scenarios. I can make around 400 plans that might or might not become actual events in the course of the day.

1. New Band = [Carl Sagan and the Spacehsip of the Imagination] this is happening as we speak. As research I have spent the last week listening to Coast to Coast radio, where people dial in to explain their supernatural and extra terrestrial encounters over the radio. The mind is swirling and I think I have to re-read my golden ratio book, the bible, book of the dead, tarot, and watch some Jodorowsky. I will attempt to add up years of sponging and drip it all over a couple of music and visual canvases. Sooner than soon.

2. Shows and writing sessions with Teta before she leaves for Italy :-( She has been an amazing friend in only a short span of time. thank god for psychic Pisces in my life. Her and I will soon be ruling a world near you.

3. Bard sneak peek this Sunday. I am very excited to check out my friend's hard work and really check out what all the fuss is about AND yes, I will possibly commit myself to applying there for the MFA program next summer. Me gets tingly feeling in my feet.

4. August looks promising for the music recording. I am rounding up the troops and will fling myself into some serious work hours and churn out something artistically cohesive.

5. John cage recordings also happening in august.

6. Finish my t-shirt line for YBBS!

7. Frame my small drawings, which will go on sale shortly.

8. Eat brightly colored cereal with The Wild Yaks a homoerotosapien testosteroni mash of brilliance http://www.myspace.com/boyhoodforever

brooklyn against human Sex.......

Hi everyone. Today has been a perfectly beautiful day that started yesterday afternoon with a relaxing stroll to the river with a newly acquired friend. Random whiffs of cabbage filled the air, sauerkraut slipping through the cracks of hipsterville. Complete unoriginal idea to walk out into the sunset drenched air.

Lovely how fate brought me into a whole new space of art and wonderful new creators and future collaborators. Amp gurus, singers, electro-visutastic freak outs and parties, till the morning light lulls us all to sleep. when i met fritz and christina (of hichristina fame) I knew we were kindred spirits from another planet. we feel alien, yet revel in our super ability to connect and laugh and sing and dance naked.

My new friend zeljko is similar, with art that reminds me of my dreams. Chocolate covered doggies and beautiful boys who love to make sounds. This summer is a wonder so far and i've only been in this mode for a week.

I am looking to make no living but instead live to make. With every bit of me expressing itself simultaneously. I am a fire dancer with lighting on my fingertips, wailing voices in my throat and eyes that recognize all as beauty.

i can't hate YOU. I can only fill myself with joy that will slip through the pores in my skin and heal YOU.

Remember to ride your bike ALoT! and eat plenty of yummy food, dance with regularity and love yourself.

MOlto Amore,

K

Wicker glow

 

New Hairlocks!

 
 
 
 

Always an Alien

 

Wow, I think i'm falling in love with myself

I am totally content and giddy about hanging out with just me and while stress and external issues have kept me from really asking the dark and lonely questions, I have found that through this mucky time I should be naked more often, laugh constantly, eat sensibly and love my friends.

For example, I just found out that I like cuddling. I mean I like it ALOT. Probably more than you know, that other icky stuff people do with their, "thingies."

I prefer androgyny, balanced asexuality, ambiguity, and complete focus on the passions that keep us alive.

my bicycle is my friend, hair always grows back, and falling in love is for unicorns and narwhals.

I also like swimming in rivers, naked fire dancing, fireside cuddling, pterodactyl fights, bright colors, and not showering.

lets be friends and love ourselves.

-K

Imaginary Friend

I acknowledge and hold in high regard
this aborted friendship
whose affections meant no harm
but punctured my air supply leaving my body
unconsciously floating in the middle of the sea
walking slowly back to the shore
a clear division appears
I am now and forever carefully protecting my path
happy to have no hands to guide me
happy to feel as alien
as the rest of my fellow breathing works of art
with no physical need to overcome
for lack of sleep I conjure up my own dreams
for lack of food I cultivate my spirit
for no touch I can imagine is therefore too strong to hold us back

New Song idea: "Viral Coitus"

Addicted to your false affections,
a sign of how much dissapears
of myself into the atmosphere
I inherit past pains, laying
claims that you won't answer,
that drop into the ocean
rejected and unknowingly selected
to expose your calcified memories,
Invade me
I'll surgically remove your claws.
Infect me
my body rejects your life blood
I'll Drink some magic wishes to erase you
and then you'll long for visions of me
gone, gone, gone
-----------------------------------------------------------------
I am thoroughly inspired by the trance performances of "Lucky Dragons" as well as the guerrilla pop of Nic Xedro, and the amazingly honest and comically tragic lyrics of "House of Ladosha"

Lucky Dragons:www.myspace.com/luckydragons

Nic Xedro: www.myspace.com/nicxedro

House of Ladosha: www.myspace.com/houseofladosha

beauteeeeeful

oui monsieur je suis un femme fatale

Where is my......

...night, which lonely slumbers turn me inside
and out of this world I search no other
except in ways which make within me wonder
What is it that keeps the veil on so tight, noosed and drowsy
lazy light-ed heart
The only one I've met
a mirror imagined first with a faint but living pulse
almost fading to exist
and most expressions announce themselves
when pangs are put to rest, relief is free
unearthed
inside the lover's chest, a clouded pile of loneliness

When a single cell divides in two, the chances are great for a set of twins (cells, babies, amoebas...etc). I am experiencing a cell division right now but believe it has more to do with my issues with morality vs. motive vs. nurturer vs. the entire world.

Actually I must continue to cobble my own wallets, print some stickers and hop skip zoom........




Today's Breakfast: Vanilla Almond Crisp cereal, 1% organic milk, and Ginko IQ tea.

LISTEN....LISTEN

Listen to this. A lot of my favorite folks are playing and swinging the shit out of some notes. Catch them at the cozy and scrumptious Cafe Moto on Thursday evenings

remember when you colored me

My Dreams.....are private

But all in the name of art.

...and even though at times my methods and ideas seem scatterbrain, they have all evolved from years of painful admissions, calculations, extractions, and distillations.

renaissance alchemist


I love to create in all forms, I love to love all things. I am zen, I am all inclusive, all encompassing. Stop by and let me draw your aura.

-K

A girls night in.....so not me but totally who I be.

Tonight I learned to appreciate the value of digestion. My system is so fragile that it almost shutdown completely on me. I was feverish and delusion last night, tossing and turning with each piercing abdominal pain. Sympathetically, my guy friend was suffering his own stomach insomnia, proving yet again that water signs have an extremely over active telepathic imagination.

Anyway, let's begin with breakfast this past Wednesday. First off I ate not one, but two bowls of malt-o-meal honey nut clusters knowing full well that my duty after eating those two bowls was to down at least two gallons of H2O as quickly as possible. What ended up happening was that I probably only drank about 16 oz. of water that entire day and went straight for the strenuous physical activity: biking, then swimming, then worked out for and hour.

Hooray for exercise but that's where things started going a little wacky. On my way home that night I bought a fruit salad and ate about half of its contents. Upon resting my head on the pillow later in the evening I started to experience nausea, horrible shooting pains in my lower abdomen, a sever headache and extreme fatigue.

I am still right now at 1:13 a.m. on Saturday morning (!) feeling the after effects of the dehydration.

If your mother were to give you one genetic disorder it should be fructose/lactose/fiber intolerance....and yes I lump them together because they are all what we lovingly call "the ethnic tummy disorders."

So much for ranting. Today was extremely productive - shirts, rehearsals, scheduling busking meetups with the girls, and wallets - shiny highlighter colored wallets.

---------------------I am sleep now, go night night.---------------------------------


**A note on robots:

My love for robots has everything to do with my lack of boundaries. I find comfort in straight lines, angles and mathematical reasonings for why the shore is the beginning of land and end of the water. I am a perpetual BABY....all things are new, shiny and exciting. I love to the extreme and hurt just as badly.

UMPH is the sound of snow falling on my spring morning

Tired, tired, tired. Not really. Gonna paint, gonna write, gonna sing songs tonight.

We're falling in-to inside the trees, falling into waters, falling into the sky, red number 9

leave it all to you to make it out.

What a lovely day
for growing
our flowers, its snowing outside its raining all over.

New photography series