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Aug 31, 2010

links for 2010-08-30

posted at 02:01 GMT by T.Whid in /news/twhid

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Aug 29, 2010

links for 2010-08-28

posted at 02:01 GMT by T.Whid in /news/twhid

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Aug 28, 2010

links for 2010-08-27

posted at 02:01 GMT by T.Whid in /news/twhid

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Aug 27, 2010

random friday post 08-27-10

posted at 12:59 GMT by M.River in /news/mriver

elevation (rear / side)
elevation (side / front)

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links for 2010-08-26

posted at 02:01 GMT by T.Whid in /news/twhid

  • A multifunction utility for Mac OS X which allows you to verify the Startup Disk and the structure of its System files, to run misc tasks of system maintenance, to configure some hidden parameters of the Finder, Dock, QuickTime, Safari, iTunes, Login window, Spotlight and many Apple’s applications, to delete caches, to remove a certain number of files and folders that may become cumbersome and more.
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Aug 21, 2010

random friday post 08-20-10 (day late edition 08-21-10)

posted at 19:42 GMT by M.River in /news/mriver

king of stain
setting up kiosks for ARTB (East)

Sorry for the late RFP, but I was upstate getting vote kiosks for All Raise This Barn (East) ready.

In other news…
McCoys move to Abu Dhabi and start a blog
Powhida explains that cable art talent contest.
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Aug 17, 2010

links for 2010-08-16

posted at 02:01 GMT by T.Whid in /news/twhid

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Aug 16, 2010

links for 2010-08-15

posted at 02:01 GMT by T.Whid in /news/twhid

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Aug 15, 2010

Summary Report on Story Time Again (Summer Animals)

posted at 20:45 GMT by M.River in /news/mriver

Story Time Again (Summer Animals)

Goal - Read with visitors at Wassiac Projects two texts (The House at Pooh Corner” (1928) Chapter 7 - In Which Tigger Is Unbounced and Quint’s U.S.S. Indianapolis monologue from the screen play “Stillness in The Water” AKA “JAWS”). Reading takes place outside exhibition space on blankets. Reading is hopefully interactive.

Result - No one came. I read the texts to empty blankets anyways.

story time again (summer animals)
story time again (summer animals)

My friend Charlie was the doorman at a nightclub in Columbus Ohio back in the 90’s. He always looked forward to nights when unknown local bands would play as only a handful of the band’s friends would show up. He could then spend a slow night reading at the door. One older local band was much loved and often booked by the owner. This band was loved by the owner but not so much by the college aged denizens of the club. Charlie also loved this band but for a different reason. He nicknamed them The Negative Guest Lists.

Live performance with an audience has some perils. If you fuck up, or if the audience is not into what’s going on, you know it immediately. Perhaps this is the reason visual artists tend to work with the safety and distance of video and editing. In a live moment, failure is seen and noted. Of the many things that can go wrong with live events, one of the hardest performance fails occurs when the curtain goes up and the theater is full of crickets. It’s a Michigan J. Frog moment and even a “free beer” sign outside the hall will not save you. At this point, you begin to question not only the quality of your work but your grasp of reality.

On the Internet nobody knows you’re a dog or, in my case, a frog. This is, of course, unless you tweet about your #negativeguestlist. Which in my over-share online world I immediately did. Luckily I have some good tweet folks around. A kind reply came back from bhoggard “@mriver It’s still art whether anyone is there to listen.” and amusing update followed from museumnerd “If a sculpture falls out your 19th floor window and no one’s there to hear it. Is it still art? ( @bhoggard @mriver )” permanent link to this post

links for 2010-08-14

posted at 02:01 GMT by T.Whid in /news/twhid

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Aug 13, 2010

Reminder - Storytime

posted at 13:11 GMT by M.River in /news/mriver


Stop by and say “Hi”. If you want a ride up for the afternoon, shoot me an email. I plan to be back in NYC by 6pm. permanent link to this post

random friday post 08-13-10

posted at 13:06 GMT by M.River in /news/mriver

crumhorn mountain

back from vacation. permanent link to this post

links for 2010-08-12

posted at 02:01 GMT by T.Whid in /news/twhid

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Aug 11, 2010

links for 2010-08-10

posted at 02:01 GMT by T.Whid in /news/twhid

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Aug 06, 2010

random friday post 08-06-10 (part 2)

posted at 13:09 GMT by M.River in /news/mriver

In honor of shark week, here is Quint’s U.S.S. Indianapolis monologue from “Stillness in The Water” AKA “JAWS.” I’m reading this text on a blanket in Wassiac, NY a week from Saturday at 1pm as part of Story Time Again (Summer Animals). Stop by. We’ll have snacks.

update - just to remind, today 08-06-10 is the 65th anniversary of the bombing of Hiroshima which destroyed Approximately 69% of the city’s buildings and killed, by the end of the year, from injury and radiation 90,000-140,000 people.


Yeah. The U.S.S. Indianapolis. June 29th, 1945, three and a half minutes past midnight, two torpedoes from a Japanese submarine slammed into our side. Two or three. We was still under sealed orders after deliverin’ the bomb…the Hiroshima bomb…we was goin’ back across the Pacific from Tinian to Leyte. Damn near eleven hundred men went over the side. The life boats was lashed down so tight to make the bomb run we couldn’t cut a single one adrift. Not one. And there was no rafts. None. That vessel sank in twelve minutes. Yes, that’s all she took. We didn’t see the first shark till we’d been in the water about an hour. A thirteen-footer near enough. A blue. You measure that by judgin’ the dorsal to the tail. What we didn’t know… of course the Captain knew…I guess some officers knew… was the bomb mission had been so secret, no distress signals was sent. What the men didn’t know was that they wouldn’t even list us as overdue for a week. Well, I didn’t know that — I wasn’t an officer — just as well perhaps. So some of us were dead already — in the water — just hangin’ limp in our lifejackets. And several already bleedin’. And the three hundred or so laying on the bottom of the ocean. As the light went, the sharks came crusin’. We formed tight groups — somewhat like squares in an old battle — You know what I mean — so that when one come close, the man nearest would yell and shout and pound the water and sometimes it worked and the fish turned away, but other times that shark would seem to look right at a man — right into his eyes — and in spite of all shoutin’ and poundin’ you’d hear that terrible high screamin’ and the ocean would go red, then churn up as they ripped him. Then we’d reform our little squares. By the first dawn the sharks had taken more than a hundred. Hard for me to count but more than a hundred. I don’t know how many sharks. Maybe a thousand. I do know they averaged six men an hour. All kinds — blues, makos, tigers. All kinds.


In the middle of the second day, some of us started to go crazy from the thirst. One fella cried out he saw a river, another claimed he saw a waterfall, some started to drink the ocean and choked on it, and some left our little groups — our little squares — and swam off alone lookin’ for islands and the sharks always took them right away. It was mainly the young fellas that did that — the older ones stayed where they was. That second day — my life jacket rubbed me raw and that was more blood in the water. Oh my. On Thursday morning I bumped up against a friend of mine — Herbie Robinson from Cleveland — a bosun’s mate — it seemed he was asleep but when I reached over to waken him, he bobbed in the water and I saw his body upend because he’d been bitten in half beneath the waist. Well Chief, so it went on — bombers high overhead but nobody noticin’ us. Yes — suicides, sharks, and all this goin’ crazy and dyin’ of thirst. Noon the fifth day, Mr. Hooper, a Lockheed Ventura swung around and came in low. Yes. He did that. Yes, that pilot saw us. And early evenin’, a big fat PBY come down out of the sky and began the pickup. That was when I was most frightened of all — while I was waitin’ for my turn. Just two and a half hours short of five days and five nights when they got to me and took me up. Eleven hundred of us went into that ocean — three hundred and sixteen got out. Yeah. Nineteen hundred and forty five. June the 29th.


Anyway, we delivered the bomb. permanent link to this post

random friday post 08-06-10

posted at 12:34 GMT by M.River in /news/mriver

durango drawing
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Aug 04, 2010

links for 2010-08-03

posted at 02:01 GMT by T.Whid in /news/twhid

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Aug 02, 2010

links for 2010-08-01

posted at 02:01 GMT by T.Whid in /news/twhid

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Aug 01, 2010

links for 2010-07-31

posted at 02:02 GMT by T.Whid in /news/twhid

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