Monday, July 14, 2008

July 14, 2008

a month or so ago, in bob hope airport, on a plane trip from la to oakland, i lost a moleskin. as i remember it, it contained some of the best sketches to date. more likely it contained maybe 3 or 4 warbly attempts at neck napes and a couple thoughts on narcissism. the airport lost and found claimed they had it, and sent it to me. but what i got in the mail was not mine. it was a lined moleskin containing classroom notes on two things:
art history and sexual reproduction.
judging by the handwriting and equal focus on both topics, i am going to assume this moleskin was owned by a female.
if this is your moleskin, please let me know.
if you have my moleskin, please let me know.
we can trade back.
i promise, i only tore out the good parts.



nonies everywhere, and i suppose everyone has one:



the J:



kira on a plane from DC to NYC, reading, and silently judging the inadequacies of current air commuters:

Saturday, May 31, 2008

May 31, 2008






a map of privately maintained public space in downtown SF:



personal addendum:


Sunday, May 04, 2008

May 4, 2008

Dear Al,
Anticipation makes the heart grow fonder. (Thank you for your patience.)
All the below are in the mail.
Your friend,
w





Wednesday, March 12, 2008

March 12, 2008

Five from the commute, and one escaping it (revealing the inaccuracies of my depictions).






Wednesday, March 05, 2008

March 4, 2008

commuting to and from another laundromat, a brief lay-over in the bar.

Tuesday, March 04, 2008

A momentary departure from the commute: WASHATERIA, Guererro Street

Teresa Geary (who everyone should be lucky enough to know) asked me to be in a show she curated with Intersection for the Arts. Here are shots from the 3 hour long drawing marathon in which i drew, erased, drew, and erased portaits of people currently incarcerated on the window of the most famous laundomat in the Mission, Washateria. Thanks Mary and Katka for the photos.






Monday, February 11, 2008

February 11, 2008

the past couple weeks have involved more car transport than usual, inhibiting voyeuristic input, increasing financial output, and leaving me feeling distant from folk four feet in front of me.



with risk, a re-post: