Recently in Palmed Category

The main event was probably as big and as intense as expected. Maybe about as much. What turned out to be truly exhausting were the other, additional events surrounding art basel miami beach. scope was a bit of an art pushing location. some of the visitors were somehow driven by factors not even good for the artists represented here. some of the gallerists were a bit near a fine line one would not like to cross when dealing with art. Some of the art finally was also in the proximity of some lines... (And I will explain later) AQUA, a show just a few blocks away and across collins avenue turned out to be a really excellent place to discover some quite good new work and some quite good new artists, as well some freshly created work by some o the old favorites. If one arrived in Miami Beach tomorrow and wanted to see something good, I would definitely recommend a look at the Aqua Hotel and the nice selection of galleries there. It was the greatest pleasant surprise of the ABMB2005 festivities... Oh, and what was that idea with the containers? (Too tired to write anything more now. )

Maybe it would be a good challenge to write about a giant event without the mentioning of any names. I could maybe not even saywha the event was about or where it was? This could perhaps be a good challenge. It is very easy to describe an event that so heavily depends on personal brands by just dropping names. One could just drop names and then the names attached to the names and then the names of tose attached to these. This would create a nice list, one could fill the name buckets with the right knowledge about the names, one could use a search engine to look for pictures, stories, all that.
Imagine a large iterior, the ceiling painted in a dark bueish grey, the floor covered with a relatively shiny concrete floor. Pour in the idea of carboard walls. Some of them arranged in open, some arranged in closed shapes. The light has a buzzing quality to it. There are objects everywhere. They are various objects. They are very admired objects. They are objects that are admired because they are told to have experienced love. Some of them might have experienced love. Some experienced more love than others. The love some of them experienced seems to have been some better kind of love than the one experienced by others. I
f the amount of attention stored in the objects distributed in the large room were able to create differences in air pressure, there would certainly be a windy corner here and there. Some of the objects were here for the first time. Some of the objects have been around the block many times. Some of the objects were large and heavy. Some were so light and fragile, one had to ask how these things could have possibly have made it here. And what would happen to them afterwards? H
mm, now imagine that the large room would not only contain this strange light, the odd walls and the very various kind of curious objects. T
here would also be a very large group of people in the same room. And they would look at the light and the walls and the objects and they would have different thoughts and the th

One of the things one should not write about is about the tools one uses to write. Is this one of the golden rules of blogging? B
ut the tools are fascinating sometimes. I am writing this on a very small device, and the keyboard I am using is not attached to anything. The small device has no hard drive, it has no real spell checker (at least not in this blogging software) and the keyboard decides to capitalize certain letters now and then, just for fun. M
Y screen is to tiny, I can pretty much see only one sentence at a time, and so the experience is a rather intimate one. ANd the writing is probably very odd. I will laugh about all this here, once I return to the larger tools. RIght now the feeling is of a secret transmission to a very close friend, someone trapped inside of a tiny box, somewhere on a very far away island. M
Aybe I will take a picture of the setup later. MAybe not. (That random capitalization is getting on my nerves.)... I
t is getting a little late. I ThInK It Is TiMe To JuSt TuRn ThIs LiTtLe BuDdY OfF. : )

noticed today that MoMA is only about seven minutes from where i work. This means that i can spend 45 minutes of an hour with some potentially good art. it was great today and it will be great when i get to go back... and i will go back often now. it is really exciting. seriously.

So I started writing these little entries on the Palm Pilot recently. I got this palm for free just a few weeks ago and I really tried to embrace it. I really tried to "make it mine". It is barely working. My sense of organization works on a very odd meta level and time is really a bit of a squishy and soft kind of thing around me. I do not have a cell phone. And so I do not have a cell phone with bluetooth... which would have been really great in combination with the new Palm Pilot. (it is a Tungsten T3... it expands when things get really exciting, yes, it is this kind of strange mini computer...) I got myself a keyboard though. And a tiny version of word was on the little computer, and so I can write my little entries with a hightened level of intimacy, basically anywhere. (That last park entry was written on the Palm.) Stuff got tiny. The letters I am looking at now are maybe two millimeters high... I have no idea what this could be in inches. 12 perhaps? Oh, and I also got myself this GPS navigation system, which works with the little palmpilot, and so I never get lost. Actually went to Cape Cod this weekend (a five hour drive in each direction... I will be riding a bicycle uphill in hell for that.) because I knew that I would not get lost. The GPS thing brought the (borrowed) car all the way to the front door of the hotel, and then it broke down. Hope the manufacturer will be able to fix it, or I will have to give out some names... ; ) Somebody is probably trying to tell me that it is time for me to prmanently move away from the big city, to move into a place where dogs roam free and people have the courage to live in their mobile homes. Some of my more interesting projects recently were handled via email anyway, and it really does not matter if the checks would be sent to manahatta or to my hutta. Hmm... The first animal seen in Cape Cod was a little fox. It behaved like a giant mix between a cat and a squirrel. Is this how foxes happened? Maybe a dog watched. Foxes are very odd animals. This one just stretched out on the dunes, wiped his behind on the path to the beach and took a foxy dump in the sea grass. The other animals seen soon after were little rabbits. Crazy little guys. They were such clear fox fodder, it was somehow not even funny. No wonder the fox looked so well fed and happy. Oh, and the rabbits fought. They fought little territorial battles. As if the grass really were greener on the other side (of the rose-bushes)... The view from the room was directly onto Pleasant Bay. Such simply still water. I wanted to be a boat and just hang out. Throw my anchor. It was a bit disturbing to find these floating dead fish here and there. They seemed to be all of the same kind. They looked like some sort of shark. Could it be? Is there research on the Cape Cod sharks? They had the eyes, they did not really have the teeth. Maybe this also was some sort of sign. (The Rabbits were.) I will not be moving to Cape Cod anytime soon. It must be the water of the ocean that can make strange people even more strange. Most of those whom I had the chance to meet... I am not sure if I would love to live with any one of them. Oh, and the delicious food I had this morning, nearly killed me throughout the day. It was not a good feeling, as I was driving, somehow blindly, for more than five hours, towards home. Where a pink bottle waited for me... It was great to be able to listen to about ten hours of radio. Yes, radio is the interestingly uncontrollable device with a built in windstorm, and hidden, magical voices. I like the voices that whisper, not shout. Some of the singing voices are okay as well, but the spoken word is the really good stuff. At times. No, this note does not seem to be more personal than anything I would have written on the now seemingly huge PowerBook. I like writing on the tiny screen, on a keyboard that I can easily fit into my pant pocket. I like how simple this software here appears to be. This is word, but it does not involve some hyperactive paper clip, or those nasty underlines, red for wurdz written da rong way... or grammar, when wrong or somehting. then green. Typing on this little device feels so intimate and hidden. It feels as if I could write anything into here and nobody would ever even find out.

Another Subway Palm drawing. I blurred it here, and liked the way it looks blurred... I also made a little color version of it, but it looks a bit too wild almost... if there is such a thing... oh yes, there is. Here is the original palm drawing:>> (it looks so tiny, i know...)

Another mystery meeting note.