wrongdesign

Progress

2011-12-20T02:36:00.002+08:00

This picture isn’t finished, but neither is the sitter, so I guess it is 100% done for today.

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Congratulations to all the people of North Korea. I know it hurts right now, but trust me, you’ll be feeling much better by next xmas.

Life is hell

2011-12-14T04:10:00.002+08:00

Every time I decide to get a haircut my hair looks great, then I change my mind and decide not to get a haircut.

Love and hate

2011-12-13T03:50:00.003+08:00

They say after you have a child your testosterone level goes down … I believe it. Fortunately, there’s still so much to build it back up … so many assholes … so many vaginas … so many stupid, stupid people … so many beautiful, gorgeous people.

Much ado about nothing

2010-07-05T02:12:00.004+08:00

I always desperately wanted to be gay. Freddie Mercury optimized glorious humanity to me. Then Prince and David Bowie abated my disappointment in my nature, and it was okay to be straight … with a little twist.

As I grow up, I feel a desperate need to remember what drove me to excess … what inspired me to greatness. As the birth of my daughter approaches, I feel the need to try harder … to be larger than life … to be majestic.

Bring it on

2010-07-02T01:29:00.003+08:00

So, the woman formerly known as baby (TWFKAB) is heavily pregnant … it’s a girl. As anyone knows, the best thing about having a child is naming it. So far, my suggestions have all been rejected … Jezebel, Rosie, Nene, Queen Mary, Fabulous. I had ideas of having a boy (names lined up are: Elvis, Jesus, Johnny) … teaching him how to fish, how to throw a baseball, how to treat girls … truth is … I have no idea … I have 3 months left to become financially secure, responsible, caring, capable, somewhat slightly less self-absorbed.

Where to begin

2010-06-28T23:00:00.008+08:00

My hands … waking up, I can’t feel my hands when I wake up … new york … Baby, or, the woman formally known as baby (TWFKAB) … heavily impregnated … robbed … I’ll never forget, TWFKAB saying “My computer is gone” … it was like death … absolute loss … everything stolen … even the phones … but my hands … I can’t feel them when I awaken … I hate everyone … I want to make love to everyone … I don’t understand.

Black Sunday

2010-05-19T15:06:00.002+08:00

This is out 1^st floor bathroom … it doesn’t have a floor at the moment.

One of the first albums I bought was “The Last In Line” by Dio. It’s not really something I would normally play out loud these days, but because he just died I downloaded a copy to listen by myself. It’s been about 23 years since I heard it last, but I still remember every little nuance. I loved those days when you cherished every record you owned … back when music wasn’t disposable.

Life in Brooklyn

2010-05-18T14:31:00.001+08:00

Living large

2010-05-14T13:23:00.008+08:00

We now have ceilings on the 2nd floor ... and roses in the front yard!

Get it together

2010-04-23T13:52:00.002+08:00

I overcame my fear of heights about 10 years ago by climbing the exterior of the elevator shaft on the roof of the building I was working at. I thought I was cured … till I decided to waterproof the garden side of our new house. I’m scared as hell up there … just 2 floors up.

Perks

2010-04-20T11:38:00.001+08:00

House is gradually moving from deconstruction towards construction. One good thing, we are a fifteen minute walk to Prospect Park.

distractions

2010-04-17T11:24:00.004+08:00

I wanted a break from breaking open walls and started reading about the Collatz conjecture on Wikipedia, which led me to the Primitive Root modulo n.
I don't get it, but it kind of excites me ...
"In modular arithmetic, a branch of number theory, a primitive root modulo n is any number g with the property that any number coprime to n is congruent to a power of g (mod n). That is, if g is a primitive root (mod n), then for every integer a that has gcd(a, n) = 1, there is an integer k such that gk ≡ a (mod n). k is called the index of a. That is, g is a generator of the multiplicative group of integers modulo n."

Don't look back

2010-04-15T11:06:00.001+08:00

I just can’t seem to drink this off my mind.

The house stripped bare

2010-04-13T11:32:00.002+08:00

Today I felt something close to despair … all the ceiling on the 2nd floor were torn down … we took refuge in the garden to eat bread and cheese. No electric, no heat, no internet and no more cash after this next set of renovations. I ended the day chipping plaster … uncovering a fireplace and listening to Ryan Bingham and the Dead Horses … everything felt great again.

Out damned spot

2010-04-05T07:05:00.003+08:00

Baby arrives tomorrow. I’ve bleached down the bathroom and kitchen … sterilized them. I haven’t fixed much yet … just breaking things down … opening walls. My crown achievement has been replacing the front door handle. I feel like I’m in a race somehow to take over this house … and if I’m too slow the previous tenants will overtake the house again. It doesn’t make sense, but that’s how it feels. There is a refrigerator downstairs that is still full of food … its amazing … I want to take a photo of it but it’s too dark. There are glass containers where the metal top has disintegrated. You can’t smell it unless you open the door, and when you do its pretty rank. I emptied a closet yesterday … an old trunk full of belts, blankets, Pepto-Bismol and things. I started putting my foot out the door just in case some ghost force shut the door on me and trapped me in the closet.

Verdantless

2010-04-04T09:52:00.003+08:00

I met our neighbor today. I’d been a little concerned by him … the last time I saw him … and I’m sure about this … he was wearing some kind of kitchen pot on his head like a hat. He’s either a brilliant eccentric, or he’s been on the wrong medication so long the damage is irreversible. While we chatted he was perfectly lucid and personable … a creative genius perhaps … he just might be my kind of guy. He mentioned I have to do something about the yard … he’s right.

No rest for the wretched

2010-04-03T12:22:00.004+08:00

I had an idea to record the progress of our work here, but I’d forgotten how tiring physical work is. Baby arrives in 4 days … I’m trying to prepare her … telling her to imagine the worst case scenario. This is addictive … a project … a long-term project. My body feels great though … I walk down the street, all dusty and taught, like I could kill anyone. What hurts most, interestingly, are my forearms and hands.

To Winthrop Street

2010-03-30T10:22:00.008+08:00

Baby and I have bought our second house (ahem). This one is in Brooklyn – not a beautiful brownstone, but a fine old brick building more suitable to our budget, South-East of Prospect Park. Tonight is my 3rd night there as I busily try to make it livable before Baby arrives next week.
It’s kind of a mess. I arrived in NY a few days ago thinking I needed to do some painting and maybe strip a little paint and do the floors. Since then I’ve discovered we need to replace all the plumbing, tear out the 2nd floor ceiling, buy a new boiler, put in 3 new bathrooms and 3 new kitchens and replace all the windows plus the various small pieces like fix the skylight, dig out the garden, etc. I knew some of this was coming, but I’m a little overwhelmed as we can’t afford all of this and we need to rent the place out immediately to pay back our loan.
To be honest, I am enjoying the panic, and will try to make the most of it.

The house has been empty a while. I’m not sure how long. Even though it was supposed to be delivered empty, there are still loads of items scattered around to give clues to the last inhabitants. I am assuming the last owner died, as we bought it as an ‘estate’. Evidence is also clear from the cupboards, which indicate the person here didn’t plan to leave, most noticeably the 2 unopened bottled of mustard in the downstairs cupboard (and an amazing supply of Tic-Tacs).
I have found 3 pornographic magazines – 2 Playboys from 1981, and one Hustler from 1976. I can’t stop musing on these. As the piles of garbage get thrown out, some key items remain – heavy things, very dirty things, hard to remove things, useful/interesting things. A 34 year-old pornographic magazine must be worth something on eBay. It’s very charming and nostalgic with its cigarette ads and very hairy private parts.

So far we only have electricity in a few rooms on the 2nd floor. I worried I may find it creepy living alone in the entire building with almost no electricity where, presumably, somebody died; but fortunately I am too distracted by the unceasing cold to spare time to flights of fancy. As daylight is king I wake up at dawn, finish house-work around 5pm and do job-work till around 10pm, then sleep. On the first night I slept in the room on the 2nd floor near the street lights as it was the least scary room, but now I have moved to a more central room with no electricity because it’s warmer. All the physical work, the cold, and the hunger have made me more aggressive than normal, so I haven’t really been bothered by the spooky things yet.

I thought a decent sleeping bag would be good enough, but the problem is the cold floor, it seeps through and drains your heat. I solved this by laying garbage bags on the floor, covered with newspaper, then a yoga mat and a down comforter. Wearing lots of clothes, a thermal hat and covering the sleeping bag with my down jacket helps.

writeplaywrite

2010-03-22T01:30:00.003+08:00

The play has started well … I’d forgotten writing … how satisfying it is … it’s up there with painting and orgasms and loud guitars and fast motorcycles and violence. The play has a gimmick … something so brilliant I don’t dare disclose it … not even a hint.

.................

This is a drawing from 17 years ago.

Just when you thought it was safe to go to church again …

2010-03-20T02:50:00.003+08:00

When I was young I had a list of goals which I thought would enable me to gain unassailable power. These included taking over a bank by force, building a solid gold statue of myself, and writing a new testament to the bible. Though I’ve never been sexually abused as a child (as far as I can remember) there was always an innate understanding that those who held a high position in the religious ranks were more powerful than even celebrities and politicians. I never imagined the desire to hold on to power could drive men to muffle so much suffering, to such an extensive rate, for such a long time, so successfully.
As usual, by the time I figure it out it’s too late. I could have joined the club and enslaved half of Eastern Europe by now with complete anonymity. I could have amassed a whole army, developed weapons of mass destruction, built a whole empire, and the worst that would have happened would be that the pope would tell me I couldn’t attend confession anymore.
I should maybe go to Italy and make friends with the pope … I’d be able to get away with murder then. But surely by now it’s too late and the church can’t be allowed so much authority … that’s obvious, right?

Weak in the presence of beauty

2010-03-18T02:49:00.006+08:00

Twins have announced a concert for April 16th and 17th in Hong Kong … I’m scheduled to be in New York … the concert is sponsored by Nokia … I just got a new HTC Hero … everything’s going horribly wrong. They’ve given Ah Giu a very safe, pedestrian pop song, http://nowplaying.nokia.com/hk/2010/03/gillian-chung-3/ to advertise their phones. I really love Nokia, and this is my favorite song of all time.

Whatever happened to giving it your all?

2010-03-15T02:44:00.002+08:00

Burma is making me so angry … why doesn’t anyone do anything … why don’t I do anything?

All action, no talk

2010-03-08T02:52:00.001+08:00

Whilst painting, after exercising, after cooking dinner, after eating, after watching the first 15 minutes of “Flesh for Frankenstein”, after drinking violently, habitual weeping, thrusting violently, making money, self destructing … after tasting, seeing, being touched, listening and smelling … I decided to write a play.

Yin-yang

2010-03-04T01:44:00.003+08:00

My heart jumped with joy … when I heard … Cheney had his fifth heart attack.

You want art? We got art (motherfucker).

2010-02-27T05:13:00.002+08:00

Baby and I went to the Whitney biennial preview show a couple of days ago. In summary: imagine every two years I compiled a massive pile of dogshit … imagine I invited a group of people to view this pile of dogshit … imagine 98% of the people just saw a pile of dogshit but were too shy to acknowledge it … imagine 2% were in a deeply introspective mood and took the time looking at dogshit to evaluate existence and accomplished something from it.
Personally, all I remember is a pile of dogshit, apart from one piece that maybe I will never forget by Dawn Clements. There were one or two other okay pieces, but I can’t remember them and I won’t expend the energy to drag them out of the memory I have of that miserable experience I had walking around the show.
In summary, it was like wandering through a used CD store … 50 minutes of complete rubbish … with one moment of extreme joy … which encourages you to search through the rest of the trash on offer, only to leave in utter disappointment, but with one gem in your pocket, which made the trip worthwhile.
I don’t blame the second-hand CD stores, they’re just trying to make a buck, but you’d think the Whitney could at least put a little effort into it.

Fevered pitch

2010-02-01T03:05:00.001+08:00

In states of excitement various concepts of morality become somewhat less prevalent … in this state we feel … ourselves.

Half man, half hedgehog

2009-12-23T03:34:00.002+08:00

Some call it wrong ... I call it progress.

What I do for fun

2009-08-02T05:26:00.003+08:00

While song is most charming, theatre is the soul at its most intriguing guise.

Just Like Heaven

2009-07-31T01:43:00.003+08:00

I wish I could stay up all night … drawing, spilling semen, listening to music … tumblers of whisky, pastels, wife … art, romance, indulgence … goddamnit it if I don’t hate bedtime.

Boys will be boys

2009-07-28T01:01:00.005+08:00

The second last episode of “Paris Hilton’s My New BFF” has been unavailable for the past couple of weeks for some unexplained reason, so between pornography I’ve been watching my 25 DVD box set on WWII instead. My favorite quote so far: “Do you know what it’s like to squeeze a tomato till the juice oozes out of the broken skin? That is what it’s like when you bayonet a German soldier.” Another good one was: “I watched a man next to me take out a photo of his wife and two children and look at it, then he tore it into pieces and shot himself. Then I felt a pistol against my chest, and after a short time passed they still had not shot me … I knew I was not going to be killed, then I felt my new life begin.”
It’s intoxicating … the carnage and the kill or be killed stories. The big strategies and leaders are interesting, but I love the little people, the little people thrust into the lap of the gods … the common man who finds himself in a foreign field, face-to-face with an enemy after months, years, even a lifetime of propaganda training him to believe this enemy is less-than-human. Literally face-to-face, with nothing but a shovel in your hand and a realization that you will die, your family could die, your entire country could be ravaged, raped and enslaved if you capitulate. I love it. Man, Hemmingway was right. I gotta get me some war experience.

Stalin wouldn’t have done this (he never would have done this)

2009-07-27T01:38:00.002+08:00

I always thought I would be bigger than this … when I was a kid I thought I would take over the world … lately I just can’t wait till the weekend … I know rich people … people who can do things … billionaires … people who could make it happen … I thought they would have taken me under their wing by now … I should have sucked more dick, or, I should have been more discriminate.

It's okay to be red

2009-07-25T02:06:00.002+08:00

I have a friend in China who says there are 35,000 people employed just to scan the internet and block sites that have any content that shows China negatively. He says there are even people who are paid to say positive things.
Just for the record, if you’re out there scanning this, I’ll gladly say anything you like for cash.

The Prince of pop

2009-07-15T00:18:00.002+08:00

It’s hard to explain in this day and age … the first time I head “Lovesexy” … so foreign to me … so black … there was a great divide … not theoretically … culturally … your body wanted to dance, but all you had was the Footloose soundtrack at every high school dance. Then Prince came … we were never the same again.

Joke of the week

2009-07-13T23:43:00.004+08:00

Two muffins were sitting in an oven. The first muffin said, "It's getting hot in here." The second muffin said, "Holy shit! A talking muffin!"

Monday, 2:40am

2009-07-13T02:40:00.002+08:00

Is it the weekend yet?

Somewhat slightly unrestrained

2009-07-11T00:30:00.003+08:00

I’ve shifted from drawing to painting. It feels like moving from voyeurism to rape.

The early days

2009-07-10T00:24:00.002+08:00

Today’s drawing is too wet to scan.

We’ve been preparing the new official site for Wrong design … I’ve been scanning through old CDs for sample works for the portfolio … the old days … before I had staff … things were different then, in the early days of email … I have backup CDs of email attachments … funny photos … cute puppies, candid shots of local celebrities without their make-up on, suicides, naked women with penises … all sorts of junk that was revolutionary in the early days of email … amazing, I really kept this stuff? I still remember Kenneth … I was complaining the police were closing down illegal pornography shops … quite, unassuming Kenneth … he said “Why not make your own pornography?” … ah Kenneth … good idea … in the early days of affordable video equipment and digital cameras … I’ve been scanning through old CDs … all the fun I used to have … I’d completely forgotten.

A rough guide to New York City

2009-07-08T23:26:00.002+08:00

Back from 2 weeks in Old Lady Manhattan. For the uninitiated - New York City: smells of urine, everything is broken, its okay to be clinically insane, community motto: “fuck your neighbor before your neighbor fucks you” … I’m starting to like it there.

The greatest show on earth

2009-06-18T03:04:00.002+08:00

“Paris Hilton’s My New BFF” … when Shelly said “I’m crying now” … I cracked ... I broke down … she didn’t mean to look indifferent … she was just protecting herself … and then she finally broke down … but it was too late … oh Paris, you know I adore you … but that was a mistake.

Random Screen Shot - Ryan Adams

2009-06-15T02:46:00.004+08:00

My first memory of Ryan Adams … sitting on the top deck of the bus … the front seat … rain driving down against the glass, then a sudden tunnel … a long tunnel … I felt the peace you can only feel after laying a brand new lover … or after a car crash … the water droplets on the window distorting the lights and the motion … “Jesus (Don’t Touch My Baby)” was playing … I’ll never forget that moment.

Random screen shot – Ryan Adams

2009-06-14T04:21:00.002+08:00

This may not mean a lot to you, but I know exactly what I’m doing.

Random screen shot - Ryan Adams

2009-06-11T01:21:00.004+08:00

If there was a God, Ryan Adams would be gospel.

Random screen shot - Ryan Adams

2009-06-09T01:28:00.006+08:00

I'll continue it tomorrow if I have enough time to pick up another litre of whisky.

More important than truth

2009-06-08T03:04:00.003+08:00

Save your unhappiness till after midnight … bury the pain … nobody likes exposure in the daylight … too busy … I do like it though … when girls cry … it kind of turns me on … its not the pain … it’s the sincerity.

Caught up in myself

2009-06-07T03:37:00.007+08:00

I saw a client at the gym today … I tried to prove myself a little more … I always think everyone is watching me … then my penis got caught in my underwear … somehow … it stuck forward ... a little triangle … a difficult situation … then Ryan Adams' “Blue Sky Blues” came on my MP3 player … I got lost in it and started crying … just a little … nobody noticed … why doesn’t anybody ever notice me?

All together now

2009-06-06T04:42:00.003+08:00

I went to the vigil for the 20th anniversary of the Tiananmen massacre two days ago … I was surprised … in recent years it has been so quiet … but this time … even the subway had police … even 2 stops away, there were crowds unable to get on the trains … the first time I went … I’ve never been so frightened … the first time I went … 1997 … how many was it? … 150,000 people? … I lost count … I got there early … I was keen … I’d never seen so many people … all in unison … it frightened me … all together … usually the scary things happen too fast … but that day … it was hours … all those people … I was terrified … if I screamed, they all would have turned … so I held my breath … I forgot why I was there … all I could think was … all those people, how frightened I felt … if they turned, I wouldn’t stand a chance.

Unbelievable

2009-06-04T01:49:00.004+08:00

I wake up … in a stupor … every day … like it is the first day of my life … no identity … a stupor … with the radio news, and the boring sports … it confuses … who was that? … they did what? … half dreaming, half grasping consciousness … Red Bull … cocaine … Martin Lee ... assasination plot ... it confuses me … once I was convinced Baby was a Tamil Tiger Rebel … I'm sure, but I can't believe it ... Red Bull … cocaine ... unbelievable …

No more Mr Nice Guy

2009-06-02T01:24:00.004+08:00

Baby has left for Old Lady Manhattan … leaving me to my own devices … 2 weeks … imagine the police on holiday … consider it the violence of an imperfect soul … like an orgasm born out of rage … its going to get ugly.

Small in Japan

2009-05-25T01:43:00.002+08:00

Baby and I just spent the week in Tokyo … in what remains of the Edo Period’s red light district … namely Yoshiwara … the true gutter of Tokyo … bums and madmen … rows of vending machines with men obsessively checking each returned-change pocket just in case … just in case … scavengers … all men … the only women there are beautiful … beautiful because they’re paid to be, or beautiful because they’ve survived … sitting at the end of the bar, the oldest one there, history stamped on her countenance. At night the men line the arcade, some drinking, some too drunk to keep drinking, some in eye glasses, moustaches, reading, like they just left a lecture hall, all lined up together with their cardboard and their blankets and awnings … they sleep early … why is that?
One night we went to the seediest bar we could find … it was just like my teens when I’d seek the lowest, most profound amongst us … it was just the same, but in Japanese … the emotion, the wild mood swings, the love and the violence … and the stink and the alcohol and the crescendo of insistence … in something … I couldn’t understand, but I knew the routine … we left as a fight was starting … same old story.
I loved that place, I’d like to stay a while ... all those humans.

Everything

2009-05-19T02:32:00.004+08:00

I finished … the end … 3 times tonight … but I kept going … fool I am … a sketch …. done …. goddamn I’d love to draw with you … bravado aside, I’m shy as a motherfucker … hiding, behind make-up and a lack thereof … I know the rules … how to rule the masses, the world, my oyster; a piece of cake, let them eat, but goodgoddamn … nothing, yes, nothing. I’d love to be me … infront of you.

Coming soon

2009-05-07T02:08:00.002+08:00

Just in case I die tomorrow … on the way to seeing you … just in case … my happiest moment … that room in Kyoto … waiting for our friends … our friends … that beautiful room … Richard Hawley played … “Danny” … while my heart was silently filling … and the room filled with that music, and it was you and me, waiting to start our life together … tears … at last, tears of happiness.

I’ve been nice

2009-05-05T01:54:00.002+08:00

I’ve been nice … all day … I got out of your way in the doorway … apologized in emails even though it was your fault … I lowered my eyes when I started mentally undressing you … I turned the music down, I smiled even though I knew one day we’ll all be dead … I’ve been nice … the patience of a saint … after midnight though … when the day is done … I’d like you to meet Mr Edward Hyde … to introduce you to Mr Johnnie Walker … Mr Thriller is just around the corner, it’s the man in me … I’ve been polite … now I’m full of want.

The youth preservation society

2009-05-02T07:07:00.004+08:00

To start with ... youth … Baby calls them vegetarians … that’s just right … vegetarians … youth … the trouble with youth … they don’t have any aggression … no balls … no insatiable urge to get into shit … they have an inherent urge to be okay … to be without the anger that destroyed my generation … to be without fire … to be above it all … to be what we should have been but couldn’t … they just don’t have the balls … the trouble with youth … no self-destruction.

I’ve been reading … Celine … he writes … he writes like this … with ellipses … fragments … like pieces that make a whole … analatycical cubism … it catches on quickly … fast … you read … then think … then blog that way.

The cereal box … yesterday … it was Kellogg’s … Kellogg’s Honey Crunch Corn Flakes … I had nothing to say … like when you’re in a rhythm … thrusting … eyes wide … caught … like a dog humping, ridiculous and urgent … wide eyed, transfixed idiothumping … notimegoodidiothumping

Profoundless

2009-05-01T04:30:00.003+08:00

$5000 to the first person who can guess what cereal package I drew this on the back of.

Live slow, die old

2009-04-20T03:18:00.000+08:00

I think I was about 20 when I quit drugs. I’d already had one overdose and was having trouble concentrating on drawing. Looking back, though, I wish I’d done more. There’s so very, very, very much to do before dying.

The man in me

2009-04-16T00:56:00.006+08:00

I was involved in a conflict the other day, and I liked it.
I was in the lobby of my building waiting for the elevator while a man was stuffing junk mail into the mailboxes. The security guard was standing next to him and asking him to stop. The man ignored him and kept stuffing the mailboxes with his advertising. The security guard didn’t back down, but also didn’t push harder; he kept his composure and repeatedly asked the guy to stop. My elevator was taking a long time and I watched this undramatic drama continue, waiting for a solution that didn’t involve me, but it didn’t stop. I became slowly resolved, and when enough time had passed I stepped in. I walked up and stood over the junk mail guy, put my hand out infront of him and said in Chinese “Really, you have to stop”.
I was scared, I had no idea what would happen next. I was all tensed up, ready for a physical fight, or worse. This moment was magical, a come-what-hither moment that perhaps only a man drunk on testosterone could appreciate.
The man pretty much immediately backed off and scurried away, but not before giving me a big grin, which I interpreted to mean he wanted to diffuse the situation with a bit of good-natured humour.
I shouted after him, “What, you don’t understand Chinese?” in my bad Chinese. It could have been comical, but when you’re the winner you’re allowed a little bravado.

Coming into myself

2009-04-10T05:10:00.002+08:00

Baby’s coming back tomorrow after a week in Japan. No more staying up till 5am, listening to Ryan Adams, crying into my whiskey with my make-up running down my face; but at least I can finally get a decent meal and maybe randy Mr Thriller will stop bothering me at last.

Superstardom (or, true love)

2009-04-09T03:03:00.008+08:00

Today was a remarkable day.
A lot of you (none) have been asking me about the status of my idol Ah Giu / Gillian Cheung - the star that was shot down last year due to the “sex photo scandal”. Well, the corporate machine has judged 12.3 months to be enough for the dumb-fuck masses to forget about the titillating pornographic images taken of her and re-educate them into believing that the boy was bad, and the girls were good.
Ah Giu has returned! It started a couple of months ago with interviews about contemplation of suicide that made the heart-strings weep; then a real life, full blown advertising campaign where Ah Giu is sponsoring the new jeans by Bauhaus / Be Tough. I bought my first pair, and I look shit-hot. You can see the new campaign here: http://www.toughjeans.com/

Okay, I admit it is all pretty lame, and they'll never come close to capturing her beauty; but hey, who am I to confront the corporate machine? Especially taking into account I rushed out to buy my new jeans and get my very own “Ah Giu” bag which I will treasure forever.
Anyway, true love is alive and well.

Oh, and by the way, my close friend went into a coma when I was 25 because she had epilepsy and had a fit while she was also having an asthma attack. They held her on life-support for a couple of days and then pulled the plug. I’ll never forget that exact second when she died. I was at work, and I tried to ignore it, but I was aware, all day, of every second leading up to the exact moment when they were scheduled to turn the power off.

Now my company does cheap ads for a local epilepsy charity, and today I received a signed birthday card from the celebrity sponsor Mok Man Wai.
It is not my birthday, but I adore Mok Man Wai. She has long legs and is way too cool.

I know the world is two-dimensional. I know the world is driven by celebrity and religion and a violent need to be larger than oneself. I know it all, but it’s okay. I know it’s nothing and meaningless and hopeless. I know it all, but I still love you beautiful people. In fact, I love you more.

tonight

2009-04-06T03:57:00.016+08:00

Oh man, don’t get me started Outlaw Josie Wales.
For the past couple of weeks I have been listening compulsively, obsessively, urgently to a playlist on my iTunes called “tonight”. I call it “tonight” because it’s what I like to listen to after work, during whiskey and drawing.

The songs in order are:
1. “Utru Horas” by Orchestra Baobab (from “Pirate’s Choice”),
2. “Spaceman” by The Killers (from “Day & Age”),
3. “The Only One” by The Cure (from “4:13 Dream”),
4. “Love Etc.” by the Pet Shop Boys (from “Yes”),
5. “Why Can’t I Be You?” by The Cure (from “Kiss Me, Kiss Me, Kiss Me”),
6. “Pandemonium” by the Pet Shop Boys (from “Yes”),
7. “The Way It Used To Be” by the Pet Shop Boys (from “Yes”),
8. “A Little Death Around The Eyes” by Peter Doherty (from “Grace/Wastelands”),
9. “Pearls On A String” by Ryan Adams (from “Easy Tiger”),
10. “Stop” by Ryan Adams & The Cardinals (from “Cardinology”).

You’ve unleashed something like a chapter from American Psycho in me, so I won’t stop, I WON’T STOP! I’ll keep going.

That Orchestra Baobab song is sublime. The guitarist has the violence of murder in him, but it comes out slow and smooth, like a gentle caress on skin that leads to the kind of orgasm that tears your soul right out from the Devil’s hands.

I have a weird relationship with The Killers. I know in my corrupted heart I should not like them, but they always push all the right buttons and get me all happy and fired up inside. By the time this song comes on I’m 150% alive and drawing like a fevered, rabid wolf.

The new Cure album is amazing. Robert Smith has so many qualities I desire. He has big hair, he can sing like nobody can sing, he can play guitar like nobody can play guitar, and he can write songs like nobody can write songs. He has a freedom in him that I can’t compete with. I bottle up so much, and he just let’s loose. I have no idea how this song could ever be made. It doesn’t make sense and it’s perfect. In my very fundamental understanding of music I really see Robert Smith as a guitarist and vocalist on par with Thelonious Monk.

Before the Pet Shop Boys new album was released I downloaded an EP of mixes of “Love Etc.” These mixes haunted me for weeks till they finally released the full album which this is on. I got it the day it came out and listened to it every day since then.

After The Cure’s “4:13 Dream” came out I started listening to everything by The Cure, and this one made it onto the coveted “tonight” playlist. Don’t think, just let it drill into you. By this far into the playlist you’ll be frenzied, dangerous, and frankly frightening.

The two stars of the playlist have to be “Pandemonium” followed by “The Way It Used To Be”. I could write novels about these 2 songs. The Pet Shop Boys have that perfect pop skill to be able to make songs that make you want to play them again even before you finish listening to them. These 2 songs together are pretty much the perfect experience in April, 2009. “Pandemonium” will get you physically all riled up, then when “The Way It Used To Be” launches you’ll accept death because your life has now become complete. I’ve listened to these 2 songs about 2 billion times since the album came out two weeks ago and, in the words of the Pet Shop Boys, “too much of anything is never enough”. When Neil gets angry during the verse about betrayed promises, and then launches into the 10th Avenue verse, and then it goes into the synth solo, it’s pretty much the perfect experience. No need to exist any more. Just hold on till the end of the song, then you can die.

For a while the playlist ended here, but I noticed I was also compulsively listening to the new Pete Doherty album “Grace / Wastelands”, and “A Little Death Around The Eyes” in particular was haunting me. Strange, the perfect playlist getting another song didn’t make sense, yet like all zen things it, at the same time, made perfect sense. Or, like Pete says, "it makes perfect nonsense". By the end of this song I am a changed man. I am more.

When I played Baby the song “Pearls On A String” she said it sounded like any typical song. I need to warn you right now, that this is exactly the reaction you will have when you hear Ryan Adams. It’s practically legend the confrontation I have with the DJ Chris Hawkins about Ryan Adams, and how he refuses to play him, even though Chris and I are best friends (not really). Even I, a seasoned Ryan Adams fan, feel bored whenever I listen to a new album by Him. It takes time for the songs to sink in. This whole album (“Easy Tiger”) was completely dull to me till I sat down one free evening and watched the accompanying DVD that came with the album. When I saw them play the song I finally got it. It was a lot like reading the Miles Davis autobiography. After I read that book, I understood so much about music.

The final song, and the undisputed final song for me at this moment, is “Stop” by Ryan Adams & The Cardinals. This is from their latest album “Cardinology”. As usual, I ran out and bought this album as soon as it was released and I was completely bored by it when I listened to it. Later I read that He wrote this song in rehab, and He wrote it about the process of disputing the need for drugs, and the desire for recovery. Last “night”, at 6am, I listened to this song, thinking about myself, and cried like a baby, while videoing myself trying to draw (hence the last entry titled "Stop"). It wasn’t just lucky timing; the man and His vocal chords are closer to His soul than anyone since Billie Holliday.

Okay, that’s almost it, but I will also say, knowing you, The Outlaw, as much as I sort of do, I will strongly encourage you to go out and find the album “Songs for Drella” by Lou Reed and John Cale. This has essentially been my Bible for the past 20 years. Everything you need to know is in this album.
For other matters, like pure sensual pleasure, I will strongly recommend Motley Crue’s latest album “Saints of Los Angeles” (plus their autobiography “The Dirt” at the same time, if you have time), anything by Richard Hawley, the last Radiohead album (“In Rainbows”) plus Thom Yorke’s solo album (“The Eraser”) if you have time to get into something deeply, anything by AC/DC, Rufus Wainwright if you are in the mood for beautiful singing and lyricism, Bright Eyes if you want poetry and like bursting into tears, Japanese band Perfume if you like artistic pop, Chinese singer Andy Hui if you want to listen to a real human being singing, and the White Stripes if you want to feel the gutter of your soul thrusting.

In short, though, you urgently need to rush out and buy “Songs for Drella” by Lou Reed and John Cale, and “Yes” by the Pet Shop Boys. Everything else is up to your mood and budget.

Start again

2009-04-06T02:35:00.002+08:00

Stop

2009-04-05T05:49:00.000+08:00

Pandemonium

2009-04-01T01:06:00.006+08:00

It used to be pandemonium. Tonight’s drawings are for the gallery owners I admire, for the passing strangers I admire; for the beautiful people who passed me by on the street today; for the beautiful people who passed me by on the street yesterday. For the musicians who I wish would show up unexpected on my doorstep to meet me while I’m covered in paint, covered in make-up, unawares, with little starlets in my bedroom, and a guitar on my shoulder, in an illegal hetro/homo/bi and sexual relationship, amid a night filled with spilled paint and emotion, and narcotic, narcissistic neophyte delusions of self-indulgent release. They are for the moment when someone bigger than myself draws me in to their circle, accepts me into their circus.

When I was a semi-child I used to have a routine. I would wake up and masturbate, then my mother would bring me tea, then I would prepare for school. One day the pursuit of orgasm was too great and I decided to masturbate 3 times, even though I knew it would cross over the tea delivery time. After many failed attempts my mother finally came in with the tea and asked “Are you done?”, and I replied “Done with what?” in a defiant manner, certain she was unable to answer this question. I pursued it relentlessly, and she was never able to say it out loud, and this somehow made me invulnerable to the shame I deserved. I never forgot this sickening episode.

Tonight’s drawings were brought to you in part by Bacardi “Oro Rum” and Gosling’s “Black Rum” and in full by Jameson’s “Irish Whiskey” and the Pet Shop Boys “Pandemonium” and “The Way It Used To Be”. Tonight’s art was brought to you in full by desire, by need, and by relentless, insatiable self-indulgence.

Look back composed

2009-03-27T01:02:00.002+08:00

Half out of anger tonight I said, “I don’t care if we lose our US$54,000 deposit, I’d rather sit here and draw.”

Later, I looked back and meant it.

The carnal carnival

2009-03-12T01:43:00.001+08:00

Tonight me and Pudding (aka “Baby”) went on HK Artwalk. This is an annual event when the local galleries stay open till midnight and offer food by local restaurants. It is traditionally held on March 7th (Wrong design’s birthday) and is traditionally full of art fags. This year they changed to March 11th and it was full of rich French. It is also the first time I have actually paid for a ticket. Me and Baby committed the cardinal sin – we paced ourselves. Stupid, stupid patrons. Free food and wine from 5pm-midnight should = sensual oblivion.
Whenever I get home from looking at “art” I am full of sperm and inspiration.

Boo-hoo

2009-03-03T01:31:00.003+08:00

I hate to sound like an 80’s over-size-print T-shirt, but any company that has US$62 billion to lose in one quarter, in a world where there are millions of people who will never spend one day with enough to eat in their lifetime, can go fuck themselves. I’m a selfish, self-absorbed, and fundamentally careless and reckless individual, but even to me this is indecent in the worse sense of the word.

Jack of all petty distractions

2009-02-14T04:26:00.001+08:00

I haven’t drawn in a long time. I’ve been concentrating on my drinking and studying AC/DC on the guitar in the feverish way I like to do things. I’ve kind of missed that moment in front of the mirror though, drinking and looking at myself in the feverish way I like to do things.

Go with the flow

2009-01-14T01:34:00.006+08:00

This morning I woke up so poisoned I swore if I could make it through the day I would sleep at least 7 hours and be clean tomorrow. By midnight I was spilling wine and learning the intro to “Back in Black” on guitar.
I’m seriously considering buying a cheap drum set for sale on a local website.

I’ve always wanted a drum set.

Thunderstruck

2009-01-12T03:39:00.004+08:00

I had an explosive workout at the gym today while listening to AC/DC. I imagined I was Bon Scott, Brian Johnson and Angus Young all rolled into one. It got me all fired up and I started to realize the importance of drugs in the creation of rock’n’roll.
I feel a little self-conscious enjoying something that used to fuel my 14-year-old temperament, but hey, it’s like that moment when you’re thrusting into your girl savagely. You can suddenly get self-conscious and mutter an apologetic sigh, or you can swell up like an animal and roll with it.

Remembering things past

2009-01-07T02:22:00.005+08:00

I’ve spent the past week in Japan, mostly praying and recovering from sobriety. I feel I'm back to myself again.
I like the act of prayer. The process of asking yourself what you really want to ask for, and the empowerment that comes from making deals with forces greater than yourself.

November sucked

2008-11-30T06:22:00.002+08:00

But at least it was memorable. I don’t remember pleasant August at all.

--------------------------

On the bus today I observed what seemed to be a family opposite me. Two of them had little flowers drawn on their sneakers in ball-point. I was so curious about this familial graffiti all day. How charming it was.

Cool, collected desire

2008-11-27T05:05:00.001+08:00

Hello

Somebody shoot me

2008-11-25T04:12:00.003+08:00

I am 37 … The Rolling Stones were right.

Hail to the chef

2008-11-11T05:20:00.003+08:00

Last Tuesday was one of the most exciting days of my life. This was partly due, of course, to that magical moment when I knew Barack Obama had been elected and the weird kind of intimate frenzy that grew within me watching his speech. Less monumental, but more exciting, was my setting the kitchen on fire, which led to an explosion. This was my first uncontrolled explosion and it was scary as a motherfucker. Nobody got hurt, but it took me 2 days to clean and repaint the kitchen. Afterwards I felt fully awake, tingly, like nothing physical existed anymore.

Freedom is …

2008-10-30T03:21:00.001+08:00

... being inspired and being surrounded by idiots.

Damned if you don't

2008-10-29T01:14:00.003+08:00

I’m going back to Old Lady Manhattan on Friday. If Obama doesn’t win on November 4th I’m taking over.

Boyzone

2008-10-28T00:25:00.004+08:00

I was browsing “Gay Attitude” the other day and happened to come across a photo of myself. Well, actually I was Googling myself as I regularly do and found the cowboy photo Baby took of me in New Mexico. It is at the bottom of the page here: http://blog.gayattitude.com/2008/06/10/. I can’t speak French. I like to think some beautiful man out there is having explosive orgasms while fantasizing about me, but it’s probably just a lucky coincidence.

Dedicated follower of fashion

2008-10-27T03:13:00.002+08:00

I want to say thank you to whoever initiated the trend this autumn in Hong Kong of girls wearing short shorts and cowboy boots.

One man’s pain

2008-10-22T21:56:00.001+08:00

I enjoy watching markets crashing.

The summing up

2008-10-22T03:04:00.001+08:00

Hours of idleness

2008-10-09T03:52:00.001+08:00

I have been 3 weeks in Hong Kong by myself. I have been drunk for 3 solid weeks, indulgent, caught up in work all day, up all night in a time-lagged endomorphine emergency all night, saturated in whisky, pornography, TV drama, and a million miles away from the beautiful filth of the gutter of my soul.
What a happy waste of time.

I’ve got the power

2008-10-07T02:36:00.003+08:00

My best friend Splotchy (never met him) asked me (asked any of his readers) to draw up a list of 8 power pop tunes, and now we are asked to write why we picked them.
Here is my list:

“Ca Plane Pour Moi” – Plastic Bertrand
Anyone who knows me knows I rate this as one of the best audio experiences on earth. Anyone who knows me well knows, when I get really excited, I like to play this on loop via 3 or more players at the same time, and all beginning at different times. The effect, if you’re really excited, is like taking every drug at the same time and somehow staying conscious.

“The Don” - The View
Like any good pop record, this song can be played incessantly when you first hear it, and even when you’re sick of it you still have the impulse to play it again. I don’t really get the lyrics, but it does transport me to being young and bored on the streets of Scotland (which I never was).

“Crazy Taxi” – Andy Hui
I wanted to put something from ‘home’, but it was a little tricky, as pretty much all popular Asian music could be loosely referred to as power-pop. Andy Hui is a personal hero of mine. When I first came to Hong Kong I fell in love with his then-girlfriend Sammi Cheng (again, never met her), and I hated him because I thought he wasn’t good enough for her. Later I saw him in concert though and saw what an amazing voice he had. It was clear that most HK singers relied on studio effects and costumes to make their music, but Andy Hui had a reputation for giving a shit and working hard. Now I’ll buy anything he puts out, and sit in the dark with my headphones and listen to every little nuance of his voice like a quivering, star-struck schoolgirl.
I don’t know what the song is about; I assume it’s about the video game of the same name.
I once assigned my first assistant the task of learning this song in karaoke, and he did it. Work can sometimes be much too fun.

“Mr Brightside” – The Killers
I was kind of unsure about adding a song that I assumed everyone knows, but the test was to come up with the songs that fit the subject the best, and this ticks all the right boxes. This one almost got replaced by “Cookie Day” by Shonen Knife, but in the end I kind of started getting annoyed with them, and The Killers still excited me, so they won this prestigious placement. I always remember being in the gym and listening to these lyrics for the first time. I don’t know why that moment will always stand out in my mind.

“Get Over You” – The Undertones
The Undertones always struck me as one of the first power pop bands. They had the edge of punk and the confidence to make commercial music. The first mixed tape I ever received had Fergal Sharkey on it. It was almost 10 years later that I found out Fergal Sharkey was actually much more famous for his original band the Undertones. I think they are also famous for being the only band John Peel played twice in a row (with “Teenage Kicks”, which he said was the perfect pop record).

“Baby Talk” – Generation X/Billy Idol
I had a huge Billy Idol resurgence about a year ago after I discovered his recent album “Devil’s Playground”. I always felt he became just too commercially popular to keep his credentials. Having said that, though, “Whiplash Smile” is still one of the best albums ever recorded.

“Go Square Go!” – Glasvegas
Another example of a song that pushes so many of the right buttons you almost start to resent it. Everything I heard from Glasvegas is as exciting as this, and I’m a real sucker for a Scottish accent. I’d love to take Baby up there and get her to pick up some of those tones. Man, I’m dripping all over the floor just thinking about it.

“We’re All Going To Die” – Malcolm Middleton
This was a last minute entry, and I was very excited when I thought of it. It also made me realize 3 of the 8 entries are from Scotland (and only one from America). This song was being pushed by a few indie radio stations to become the English Christmas number one last year, but it didn’t make it unfortunately. Malcolm Middleton was also in the punk band Arab Strap, which I’m frantically trying to illegally download now.

“Jet Boy Jet Girl” – Elton Mortello (*extra special bonus track)
I was torn between this and the Plastic Bertrand version. I didn’t want to include them both as that would really eat away at my precious 8 slots. In the end I chose Plastic Bertrand as it’s the one I listen to more. I’ve tried to figure out which one was recorded first, but the more I read about these two songs, the more I start to believe that we, the public, are not supposed to ever know the truth. Essentially they are the same backing tracks, but the Belgian version has silly bubble-gum lyrics, and the English version is about a 15 year old boy who is introduced to sex with another guy, then gets his heart broken when he sees him playing around with girls. I’m pretty sure Plastic Bertrand was the drummer for Elton Mortello, and I also heard they used the same session musicians in two separate recordings, one after the other, to avoid any copyright infringement of the recordings.

Us and them

2008-09-29T00:37:00.000+08:00

Looking through old photos today I said “It’s amazing how many of us are dead”, then I quickly checked myself “It’s amazing how many of THEM are dead”. A quick and shameful disassociation.

We like opiate!

2008-09-06T14:06:00.002+08:00

Guys, guys! Baby and I have discovered something amazing! Television! That machine you use to watch DVDs and play Playstation, it can also show some kind of non-stop addictive visual entertainment called television. I’ve seen it before in hotel rooms and it’s amazing. Baby rented the first 3 episodes of “Lost” from Netflix, thinking it was a reality TV show. She’s dumb, I heard about it on the radio ages ago. Anyway, she rented it and it is really good. We rushed to rent the next episodes but couldn’t stand the excitement, so I Googled it and found all the episodes on the ABC website, so we’ve been watching them like we were Charlie and they were heroin.
We’ve just started Season II. It is like a kooky morality play, where every player has a clearly defined character, and we learn a little about ourselves and our place in mankind in every episode. Anyway, it seems it’s been on for ages on this television system. I HAVE to get one of these, and figure out how to access the television phenomenon.

Fine tuning

2008-09-01T14:22:00.003+08:00

My parents’ conversation overheard while watching the US Open:
Mum: “Why doesn’t he wipe the sweat off?”
Dad: “How should I know?”
Mum: “You know everything.”
Dad: “I’m not telling you.”

What struck me was that this was pretty much a carbon copy of many petty arguments I have with my wife – she asks a stupid question, I reply in a dismissive manner, she retorts with a response that, though clever, indicates that she never really took the question seriously in the first place, I reply with a tender yet defiant remark.

I am 37 and I have definitely become my parents. I see it as a kind of step in evolution, where one repeats the past, in the hope that one day they can finally perfect it and move forward.

Sexy books

2008-08-27T13:27:00.004+08:00

After a brief and torrid sojourn with the Motley Crue autobiography I have gone back to my true love, the Yukio Mishima Sea of Fertility tetralogy. This is the 2nd book, “Runaway Horses”. The way he writes about boys sets the heart racing. I can’t imagine how great it would be if he liked girls.

-----------------------------------------

This is part of a larger plate lithograph I drew from a photo of a gypsy and a dancing bear. I always loved this photo. Years later my friend showed me exactly the same photo, but I haven’t seen it since. After I finished the lithograph I decided to splash some random ink across a new plate a-la Toulouse Lautrec. It ruined it; the same way I ruined the silkscreen cat T-shirt by adding a purple box at the end, and the Danse Arts poster by deciding in the last minute to make a random pattern on each one.

Interlude

2008-08-17T01:29:00.003+08:00

I saw a man on the street today playing electric guitar. He was wasted away, all muscle and bone, almost elderly, with a rock’n’roll hairstyle, singing Cantonese pop from the 60’s. His speakers were rigged to his bicycle, and he had a kind of shrine surrounding him of news articles and photos and a fluffy white pet resting on a stool with a sign in English and Chinese warning you not to touch the dog or it’ll bite.
Turns out it was Danny Hui, old rising star who was torn from fame by heroin abuse, now alive again and performing on a Mong Kok street, half circus act, half giant.
I gave him $10 then the rest of the crowd started dropping money into the various hats and buckets around him. It’s crowd mentality – very hard to be the first one when everyone is watching.
I can’t imagine the balls this man must have. It sounded great, amid all the empty noise and clutter on the street. Imagine, amid all those people … a human.

Selling death

2008-08-14T00:35:00.003+08:00

Whenever it crosses my mind I might die, I try to evaluate how many cute girls may die too, and this is how I gauge how big a tragedy it will be.
When groups of people die though, the news always says something like: “Twelve people died, including 4 children”. What does that mean? Children are more valuable than adults?
I think it’s not fair; the papers should get some perspective.

Thoughts (part 2)

2008-08-12T02:33:00.002+08:00

What if I was the last man on Earth? How would it work? Would different countries take turns sending their best women? Would they get one shot, or would it be like a set of 10 opportunities? Would I get to name all the offspring? Would I get holidays? Would the younger girls have to go to the back of the line because they still had a chance with the second generation?

Boy power

2008-08-10T07:56:00.003+08:00

I still have the eye-liner I borrowed from my mother 20 years ago. I’ve been using it a lot recently … it’s my new look. I’m thinking of starting a whole product line – make-up for men. The theme will be part “I want to be beautiful” and part “I don’t give the slightest, tiny fuck”. I want to call it “Fuck you, fuck me.”

A successful descent

2008-08-06T20:39:00.001+08:00

My plane landed in torrential rain, and for a moment while we were descending I let my imagination wander and felt the possibility of disaster. It seemed an okay time to die – I had just used one of my free passes into the “Prestige Lounge”, the next issue of the magazine was mostly laid out, I’d read most of the Motley Crue autobiography, I had recently procured a satisfying orgasm. I had called my parents a couple of days ago and my last blog entry mentioned crashing and going to heaven. It seemed an okay time to go, and as fear started to creep in I remembered Tommy Lee and Nikki Sixx standing up during turbulence and yelling “Fuck God, let’s crash!” and then I felt strong again.

Fun in Seoul

2008-08-06T06:23:00.004+08:00

I’m en route from Old Lady Manhattan to Hong Kong, now in the Korean Air “Prestige Lounge” in Seoul. I must have crashed and gone to heaven. First a beautiful girl gave me a towel and took me to my own private shower room. After trying all the free hair products they had and taking “look-I’m-Tommy-Lee” naked photos of myself in the mirror with my phone I realised I was missing out on the free bar, so I dressed and hit the bottle, and the cappuccino machine, and the pastry counter. I finished the bottle of Jack, then when I went back to start on the Scotch there was a brand new bottle of Jack waiting for me. Man, I’m inspired. I gotta make money. This is how I want to live.

---------------------------------

I haven’t drawn for 2 weeks. This is a scan of an old plate lithograph from “Elfonzo’s Lost Cat”, a story I wrote about a man who lost his cat, then hatched a plan to find it by circling his house, gradually expanding the diameter of his search so as not to miss any spot. He grew obsessed, insane, looking for his cat. It ended with him taking a dump on the sidewalk and looking up and seeing his cat, but being too absorbed in his manic search to recognise the animal anymore.

Role-play

2008-07-24T04:56:00.003+08:00

I’m flying back to Old Lady Manhattan this morning. It generally takes me 24 hours door-to-door as I fly through South Korea. This 24 hours is fun, fun, fun. I like airplanes. No phone calls - you’re forced to do nothing but doze off and watch movies while beautiful girls serve you and you play “If I had to choose just one” and read the Financial Times. I pay tones of money for each flight, but it still thrills me to get a free newspaper on the plane.

When I used to live in Bermuda I had to write my occupation on the arrival card, so I used to write whatever I wanted to be, like opera singer, conductor or matador. Travelling is just a form of pseudo-suicide.

I think the people in the Cartier shops in HK, S Korea and NY probably know me by now, but apart from that I could be anybody. I’m very tempted to act like an asshole for the whole trip, to play that role, just to see.

Thoughts (part 1)

2008-07-23T03:05:00.003+08:00

I’ve been thinking about Tommy Lee from Motley Crue recently, and imagining we are friends. I think we’d make good friends, but he comes across as much more outgoing than me, so I wonder what we’d actually do together.

Nothing can stop me now

2008-07-22T03:06:00.001+08:00

Today I hired a 2nd assistant, bought a new laptop for over US$2000, and purchased a 2nd-hand accordion.

That’s right, an accordion.

Diagnosis, murder

2008-07-19T07:11:00.008+08:00

It’s Saturday morning, or more accurately, the end of Friday night. I’ve been with people. Generally I don’t spend a lot of time with people, I’m quite busy. This is the 2nd weekend in a row I’ve associated with people.
When you hang out with people you need to interact with them. This sometimes means putting up with their asininities, and sometimes, if they’re quite clever, means you get to intellectually pare with them. Tonight was a bit of both, but ended up, as any good human event should, with intoxication and dancing.
I like people, I really do. I just wish so many of them weren’t so hung up on themselves. Really, we’re here to fuck and have a good time. You can diagnose it as much as you like, but you’re going to come to the same conclusion: fuck … good time. Art … girls and boys. It’s really not that complicated.

________________

I believe my grandfather coined the title "Diagnosis, Murder" in his novel of the same name, under the pen name of "Sutherland Scott". A fine writer in my somewhat biased opinion.

Move on

2008-07-18T02:48:00.003+08:00

So Israel just swapped Samir Kuntar, plus 4 other Lebanese prisoners, plus the remains of 199 Lebanese fighters for … the bodies of 2 dead Israeli soldiers.
I would usually laugh at the “persecute-them-before-they-persecute-us” circus that is the Middle East, but this whole thing is just a case of humanity gone straight out the window.
Sometimes I just wish everyone would kill each other and get it over with, I’m sick to death of all this petty god, possession, hatred idiocy.
I’ve seen a little of the Middle East, and I can tell you friends, they’re all just a bunch of people, just like me. Just as useless and pointless and beautiful as everyone else.
I know what it’s like to be pissed off and get in a fight, but I get over it.

The slow train to Tahiti

2008-07-16T02:34:00.003+08:00

Can’t sleep. It’s been another productive, perfectly coordinated day (the worst kind). Had to get up and draw … spend a little time with myself. I’m seven small inches away from doing a Gauguin – quitting the bank and going to a small tropical island to unearth my soul in purely sensual pursuits. I think I’d take Baby with me though. And I don’t work at a bank.

I used to amuse myself and exasperate my history of art teacher by saying “I could do that” every time he showed us Gauguin. One day he handed me a sketchbook and some colours and said “Okay, so go and do it.”

That was the 2nd best lesson I ever received.

Nothing's wrong

2008-07-14T02:19:00.004+08:00

I’ve spent the past 3 weeks stone cold sober, and the last 2 weeks in complete control of myself, dealing with mortgage brokers, insurance brokers, printers, deliveries, premeditated ejaculations, hair care, ironing etc. Adult things. Everything is running smoothly. I feel great. It’s so nice. Everything’s nice. Nice, nice, nice. How pleasant to see things running smoothly. How nice. How tediously nice. How comfortable and predictable everything has become. How stable I feel. How clean. Like I’ve been disinfected. Like I’ve been wiped down with bleach. Sterilized. Sterile. Squeaky clean. Like a soldier’s button. Like a happy, shiny soldier’s button. Happy, clean and nice.

Tomorrow I will do something stupid. Tomorrow I will make a mistake on purpose. Tomorrow I will feel my pulse again.

Vanity fair

2008-07-06T01:52:00.002+08:00

Baby has a high school reunion next January so we are in training for the event. To start out with I’ve become a recovering alcoholic again – this is a sure-fire way to get rid of that unsightly ‘spare tire’ flesh that is becoming a constant pest. I thought maybe it had been a month or two since I stopped being a filthy drunk, but actually it’s been only 2 weeks. I remember last time it was 40 days and 40 nights and by the end I felt like some kind of lean, sexual python, slithering down Hubba Hubba Street. This task is, frankly, tedious, but it’ll be worth it in 6 months’ time. I won’t let anyone accuse me of not knowing the sweet poison of conceit.

I decided to draw with my left hand today even though my right is functioning pretty much as normal. I was a little disappointed to discover it seems to be exactly the same as drawing with my right, just slower. Perhaps I’m ambidextrous. Or perhaps I’m just not very good. Or perhaps my old suspicion is true after all, and god himself is moving through me.

Son of a bitch

2008-07-03T23:18:00.002+08:00

I have recreated here the painful last moment I could feel my right hand. I have drawn it with my left hand because my right hand has been chewed to pieces by a vicious dog. This is the 2nd time I’ve been attacked by a dog – it happens very suddenly, and all in the same moment you hear that horrifying snarling sound they make through the saliva of their flapping lips, you feel the tugging against your limbs and you feel the sharp pain of the teeth breaking through the skin, pushing into the muscles. Almost immediately they let go and then go in again for a better grip, and at that moment, because you have already analyzed and understood the situation, you try to outmaneuver the animal, which is virtually impossible, but you can at least give it a less important section of your hand/arm to tear up. At this point, you’re in a bit of a conundrum. Do you attack the dog back? It’s hard to kick a dog when it’s locked on to you, and if you hit it with your hand you stand the chance of it shifting its teeth over to your one good hand. This is a good time to find a suitable piece of furniture to beat the dog off with.
Actually, after 4 days I do have the feeling back in all my digits but one, but I thought it would be more dramatic if I pretended I had to draw with my left hand. I almost enjoyed it - makes me feel like a tough guy, especially with the wounds.