Saturday, March 26, 2005

daft punk is playing at my house

At my house! I saw the video for this on one of those many cool public NY stations, and I have since downloaded this rocking LCD Soundsytem song and I am playing it right now and am rocking away here on my computer. Dusk is setting in outside the window next to my desk. The sky looks gorgeous. This stuff vibrating through my ears makes me so happy, and why? Why do certain sounds make us happy? Isn't that awesome? Something so simple, sounds?

I sometimes reach to adjust my glasses out of habit, to push them back up the bridge of my nose. I have not had glasses for about a month since I lost them but my hands are still used to this habit, longing for an object no longer here. I could make an analogy of some sorts here, but you know what that analogy is, you know what I did.

I went and checked out a few galleries this afternoon. Damien Hirst has nothing to say and so he says things really loud. The opposite to his show was Robert Gober's show at Matthew Marks. Gober dealt with 9/11 but in the most muted and elegant way. Well maybe not the most muted, that crucifix fountain was a little much, but the symmetry of the show's drawings was so elegant and I really loved this show. Emily Jacir's show also showed some restraint in dealing with political matter. I went to Hirst's last and was like, "So loud, so loud, Damien, you don't have to shout!" I am over him. When did I start saying "I am so over..." or even dismissing things as "over" or "passe"? I am finding myself doing this more and more often. The snob I sometimes keep in check is breaking loose, throwing off the chains and calling your painting derivative.

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