B a N sH Ee b OY

Curate

2012-01-24T13:33:00.004Z

I want to create an exhibition of painting, photography and video (things that are flat, that go on a screen or wall). I don't have the copyright or originals. But I have the internet. Everytime i see the original of a flat work these days, i feel no different about it than when i see a version of it on the internet:

Here's an example of something i Love:

Robert Levin: Andy Warhol Getting Facial, 1982. Photograph taken at the Janet Sartin Salon.

Benji X

2012-01-08T14:40:00.001Z

"A murderer's bloody fingerprint
on a page says more than
the book's text"
(Benjamin, 1969, 229)

Count-down

2012-01-06T18:27:00.000Z

Jeff Buckey and Bagdad Cafe

2011-12-07T13:36:00.002Z

Total crush on Jeff here... and remembering the exquisite delights of hearing this for the first time in Bagdad Cafe...one of my favourite films of all time.
It needs a night, an event, something to commemorate its influence on everything beautiful, yearning, lonesome, cowboy-ish. I mean, who else is writing songs and making films about coffee machines today?
BB x

Amanda Lear - Alphabet

2011-11-30T11:56:00.002Z

"here is a new alphabet for the children of my generation...of course all these words have a meaning to me, but other generations may find a different mood to their world. A- stands for anything...B- for bionic and bach. c- for claustrophobia and d- for dirty old man. e- is for everyone. f -full frontal. d - getting divorce. h now stands for hijacking. i for a king size eagle i. (instrumental) J- now stands for jukebox and jacquis. k-for those who kiss and tell... (l is missing) me me is for me of course. n- is for never again. o- is of that famous story. and p- for pain and poverty. q-for quality better than quantity. r-for rock n roll. s-sexy n sad, t=totllay mad, and u, u mean everything to me. v-for little voodoo. and u... x seem so extremely mysterious. y-the question i keep asking. and z- for the zero you will get if you don't learn my alphabet.

(Note to self: make your own alphabet)

Warriors of Goja - India's got talent

2011-11-21T12:39:00.004Z

thinking about the relationship between live art, talent TV and entertainment. thinking about the notion of risk in terms of the body in art and risk on the stages of mainstream and popular entertainment. Thinking that risk in art needs to reconsider its context in order for it to work - it needs to get out of art. If it must stay in the realm of art, then let it not be about risk, let it be about entertainment - about showing off - which is the only way it can trully bring risk back into the realm of art (the risk of value).

I, An Actress (1977) GEORGE KUCHAR RIP

2011-11-02T09:31:00.000Z

Feelings with Vag (Nina Simone Monetreal Jazz, 1976)

2011-11-02T09:29:00.003Z

One of the most incredible moments of musical history... all because of feelings.

What do the Viennese Action Movement, The Disco Movement and Viennetta have in common?

2011-10-17T11:33:00.003+01:00

Play all Three at the same time: Some finding

logbook 2009/10

2011-09-15T17:31:00.000+01:00

Thigh High Boots, Penis prints, Mexican Pointers!

2011-09-15T10:35:00.004+01:00

Walter Van Beirendonck - Dream The World Awake

Nowhere else to put it

2011-09-15T10:00:00.000+01:00

Cold Star

2011-08-19T15:38:00.000+01:00

My chocolate starfish hurts today.

string

2011-08-14T23:57:00.002+01:00

I Love the Night Life: Action!

2011-08-06T16:34:00.003+01:00

Merging the histories of Action art, particulalry that fo the Vienese pursuasion, with the histories of Disco – I attempt to locate myself dancing-expressing, and doing absurd rituals with things like milk, nails, glitter, honey and cheese on stages in Opera Houses from Lands End to Shanghai, in nightclubs from Minskies to Anfora, in Galleries from New York to Venice, in living rooms and basement flats in Camden and Bristol and sometimes even on public transport.

How to merge these desperate practices? One that takes itself seriously; one that escapes itself through oblong rythmns and fancy dress. What do they have in common as ritualistic practices? and who likes them?

Alicia Bridges and the Vienese Actionistas! ACTION!

Milk (always, never)

2011-07-25T21:16:00.002+01:00

Anality, Glitter and Milk. He said.
Furry Muff, Net Scrubber, Cotton Bud, Lighter (with a horse on it), Revolver (notepad), Paracetamols, Random Glass of Wine and Microphone. I did.

Circle Jerks-Clip From The Decline Of Western Civilization

2011-07-01T14:15:00.002+01:00

You can cuss...spit...throw bottles...broken glass. But it ends with a swift kick to your ass.
BB. x

Sissy boy - Slap Party

2011-06-15T15:30:00.001+01:00

a short film by Guy Maddin

Bollywood Christmas Trees

2011-06-09T19:49:00.001+01:00

Idhi Oka Nanadanavanamu Whoop Dee Doo from leone anne reeves on Vimeo.

Krystian Lupa - draws

2011-05-22T19:39:00.008+01:00

Las Botas Puntadas de los Mexicanos

2011-05-22T19:20:00.002+01:00

mangera, pico chico, punta, mas grandes, mas chicas, mas de todo

sounds opening

2011-05-15T19:26:00.004+01:00

I'm really into the opening sequences (sound loops) of a few musical pieces at the moment: I can't wait to steal them, duplicate them, and leave them on repeat after I exit.

Friendly Fires: Live Those Days Tonight (0:00-00:18)

Gaga: Judas (1:10-1:25)

Siouxsie And The Banshees - Happy House">Siouxsie And The Banshees: Happy House (00:00-00.35)

Reclaim our desire | Reclaim our Power | ECCE HOMO (1989)

2011-05-15T10:23:00.003+01:00

By Jerry Taraglia

Judas

2011-05-10T10:34:00.002+01:00

2011-05-10T10:29:00.001+01:00

some randoms (gotta g spot)

2011-04-22T10:08:00.006+01:00

I Still love Louis Garrel (clearing up my desktop)

Still of Ivo Dimchev

Leon

From Alun Davies

Nina Hagen - Zarah (dressing room soundtrack)

2011-02-26T12:50:00.001Z

This really makes me feel pumped! J'adore orange beauty. x

Dear Perfect Stranger...

2011-02-23T17:56:00.003Z

I am Otto, a feral cat, born in a Brooklyn alley, two-years old, neutered, male, full of love with no place to put it.

Thank U ANGEL ROSE for pointing BB to this wonder! X

BAD PERFORMANCES - A COLLECTION

2011-02-20T14:06:00.002Z

Beginning to collate a series of what might be considered 'bad performance'. Thinking about ideas of creating crap performance as a resistance strategy to fame and fortune. Will post some that 'qualify' here - why are they so bad? How do we value a work? What is this work doing instead of what it should be doing? There is plenty of room to contest.

Alun sent us this today. He said it reminds him of us.

2011-02-09T23:19:00.001Z

Cueca boys dancing in our kitchen forever dancing always....xxxx BB

Ryan Trecartin Is now GOD

2011-02-06T16:49:00.000Z

Obvious things about slowness and fastness

2011-02-06T16:23:00.003Z

Slowness is remembering
fastness is forgetting
slowness is boring
fastness is exciting
slowness is clever
fastness is stupid
slowness is about knowledge
fastness is about not knowing
slowness is about intention
fastness is about spontaneity
slowness is quiet
fastness is loud
slowness is slow
fastness is slowness speeded up
slowness is fastness in disguise
fastness is slowness with high heels on
slowness is trying to be something its not
fastness is trying to be something/anything
slowness is pure
fastness is dirty
slowness is one way to look at it
fastness is one way to look at it
slowness is not the opposite to fastness in this instance
fastness is entertainment
slowness is ritual
fastness is out of this world experience
slowness is spiritual awakening
slowness thinks its real
fastness thinks its fake
slowness thinks its the best
fastness doesn't care what you think
slowness is privilege
fastness is capital
slowness is paranoid
fastness is extrovert
slowness is serious
fastness is transparent
slowness is hypothetical
fastness is pathetic
You don't miss slowness
you miss fastness
you can't miss slowness
you can miss fastness
slowness is therefore logical and rational
fastness is therefore poor

My blog characterizes itself as Fast and Lazy at the same time ( a la vez). Just sayin...

Markus Schinwald - Dictio Pii (2001)

2011-02-01T20:02:00.004Z

Remembering the monologue that accompanied such a fantastic montage of images and deranged and familiar characters.

We are the perfume of corridors

Unfamiliarised with isolated activity
Traitors of privacy.

We are Utopian craftsmen
Scope heeled diplomats, pretty beggars
Not the product of poverty
We don’t take from anyone.

We are pillared by mild sadness and polymorphic history
Eternally skeptical,

But We Believe.

We are immortal volunteers
Living in the sensation of being everything
And the certitude of being nothing.
We are just an outline.

We disband prompted paths of movement
Extend our bodies,
Become abysmal dancers.
We are illiterate of perfection, following the curves of belief.
Interested only in the gestures of bending.
Scaffold-ed postures,
obscene geometry.
Frozen irony.

We are derranged.

Dictio Pii (2001)

Is that a watermelon on your head?

2011-01-25T13:13:00.002Z

or are you just pleased to see me?

Knowledge

2011-01-25T12:51:00.004Z

More surfaces

2011-01-21T19:18:00.004Z

Ryan Robles

2011-01-18T15:55:00.003Z

A very poignant and valuable performance by Ryan Robles on a Phillipino TV show. I love everything about his performance and the TV show has some great sound and lighting effects. And the audience are such fun! I'm Truly moved.

Jun Miyake - MY NEW FAVOURITE STUCK IN MY HEAD

2010-12-31T10:54:00.000Z

Ice cream boys of 2010 (Frida Khalo)

2010-12-31T10:51:00.005Z

VAS

2010-12-31T10:49:00.001Z

Rampage (Make "Kettle" the new BDSM)

2010-12-23T10:57:00.004Z

The only thing left is pleasure.

I’m ‘Owenly’ here for the Orgy

On 9 December 2010, I was “kettled” or detained, for over eight hours against my will at Parliament Square in London for exercising my right to protest against the forbidding funding cuts to English Universities by the coalition government. Like thousands of others who turned up that day to be counted, I was forced to endure the duration of the protest against my will, to experience the spectacularly oppressive maneuvers of the police, and to be subjected to their intimidating exercises of control and power.

Fancy police maneuvers including human turn-styles, human blockades and barricades, a human “corridor of shame”, cornering, penning and charging on horseback were just a few swish choreographies performed by the police that day. Detained and subjected to the spectacular strategies of militant control and technique, I became aware, more than ever, of the oppressive powers of coherent police strategies – visible in the linear choreographic lineups, and also in their employment of disorientating ‘queer’ strategies – such as diverting detainees like myself on a wild goose chase back and forth across parliament square to non-existent exits. Disorientations and broken promises of exits were set against a backdrop of broken promises by the Con-Dem coalition. At 5pm the votes were passed inside Parliament to increase fees and cut education funding, as those of us outside in the cold continued our detention.

Besides the much talked about scenes of violence and police brutality that unfolded, there were some at the manifestation who demonstrated their right to protest in other more pleasurable ways. I am not talking about those who attempted ironic tricks like reading poetry to police officers, or by holding handmade imitation books up, but to those who sought pleasure elsewhere that day. I am talking about those young people dancing on the street to dubstep, those who gathered around fires and sang and to those who pursued other micro-collective activities.

Amidst the scenes of violence, certain pleasure seekers ignored their battling peers and the oppressive police, cranked up the volume on their portable amps, mounted walls and monuments and danced to the sounds of dubstep. Similarly on other parts of the square, groups of people turned their faces away from the police, sang songs around fires, and engaged in discussions and chitchat. What was made brilliantly clear whilst firecrackers went off, students got hit across the head by police battens and charged at by police horses, was the way that demonstrations of communal pleasure in the form of dancing and singing for example, failed to cooperate with the policing strategies. Perhaps the only way to reclaim agency when “kettled” as we were, is to reclaim the violence enforced as pleasurable - to make a carnival out of oppression and to reclaim the “kettle” as a new and perverse form of pleasure practice. I recall one sexy loved-up couple, hugging and kissing on the pavement amid the carnage and walls of police and wonder what would have happened if they were to extend their canoodling with other detainees? What about reclaiming agency in this instance through the power of collective orgiastic pleasure?

On the number of occasions I have attended public manifestations in my life, I have often felt my efforts illegitimate or timid; like I haven’t done enough, or I haven’t done it right. A sense of feeling inadequately knowledgeable about the subject at hand, about how to protest, about how to be political, about the political terminology and name dropping that I don’t get, but indeed ensues the scenes of professional activism. But what if I don’t know the names of all the MPs? And what if I am protesting outside number ten Downing Street and no one is at home? So what if I get carried away by the marching Samba band? Or if my attention is diverted to the boy dancing on top of the bus stop with his shirt off? Or if I end up carrying a banner or holding a placard I didn’t make myself or don’t necessarily agree with? Might we search beyond imitative strategies of ‘violence’ or acting ‘peaceful’ and reconcile with the perverse powers of pleasure instead?

“When they say cut back!” We dance dubstep, we sing, we kiss, we fuck, we love. Reclaiming pleasure in the face of violent strategies of police control and intimidation might indeed be one way of throwing them off, one way of combating their oppressive strategies, one way of uncovering the creative and political potential of pleasure seeking. I am not proposing that we give up on political action, but that we might permit space for pleasure within it in order to move us beyond hackneyed binary strategies of active violence or passive negligence.

I decided to put this up today - 23 May 2011- because i am still angry. (OGP)

Vito Aconcci - TRADEMARK (slagtag)

2010-12-16T16:44:00.004Z

When he had nobody to bite him, he bit himself.

EM O EM

2010-12-16T16:35:00.000Z

I'll be bad if you ask me

2010-12-16T16:19:00.007Z

Eleanor invited me to do this thing, which is thin and quick and long, so i did it in the corner, with a chair, a cone, a chalk board, a piece of chalk, a banana and that slime, oh that slime, i'd been looking for a reason to use it for ages>>> o> :)

Sometimes you end up looking like a Viennese Actionist when you're trying to be the most stupid you can be today. I Just found this image below. It's Gunter Brus (b.1938)

here is a link to Parataxis II event organised by my friend I love so much Eleanor Webber and her Raddest Right Now

I'm 'Owenly' here for the Orgy

2010-12-03T14:15:00.003Z

I'm 'Owenly' here for the Orgy: Archives, Dressing Rooms and Other Peoples Beds

Some images return

2010-11-26T13:08:00.006Z

Sometimes the image returns as gloss and sick. I am returning to my old work now, to 1990/2003/ really i mean 2008, and my images of old where the symbol, the representation, the significance is meaningless. Is without saying or doing, is without reference, (or is reference and meaning as well, but for this i do not care) i am all about attitude this week. About forces, and attitudes and posture. About remembering (feeling) those forces that drive, the ones i imitate (not the work -who cares, i'm over it) but the forces, the pushing and pulling, the restraint, the lure, the naughtiness in the face of an absent loved one, that keeps me coming back, that returns me, that is the very impulse of doing, the 'feeling' of strangeness, of gloss, of dark light, of cold, of boy, of doing it anyway.

Mae gives pleasure

2010-10-29T12:29:00.003+01:00

"An ounce of performance is worth pounds of promises"
Mae West

Dawn's questions are research questions

2010-10-25T17:30:00.002+01:00

Dawn French interviews Russell Brand. BBC 4

milk

2010-10-13T12:06:00.000+01:00

A home for a chocolate Starfish

2010-10-13T11:13:00.003+01:00

Sylvester Stallone - Italian Pony (boys dancing)

2010-10-06T11:09:00.001+01:00

and from Justin: http://everybodyelsesqueen.tumblr.com

Wallpaper

2010-09-18T13:20:00.003+01:00

You weren’t actually in the show though. But you were there somehow. Under the rubble. Under the floorboards. Under the patio. Under the coffee table. That’s where I saw you. You were in the Sunday magazine. You were all glossy and shiny, and I cut you out because I didn’t want to loose you. Because if I didn’t cut you out, I might forget all about you, and because I’d seen you before. I’d seen you before In another show. i was sure I’d seen you in another show. in another show about bee farming and the manufacturing process of honey. Im sure you had something to do with bees and behives, definitely, I remember that wallpaper.

Dressing up with no timer

2010-09-08T18:13:00.004+01:00

Black Velvet Magic Trick

2010-09-02T16:43:00.005+01:00

1

2

3

Anna gave BB JCDC HAT! - CREAM!!

2010-07-29T13:19:00.006+01:00

Limited edition by JCDC

BB always needed a Hat to look like a ME, NOW. I am so happy and BB uses Hotmail, Not shame because Jean Charles de Castelbajac is hotmail too and i am flowers, with yellow shark and fishes sticker. Poking me. LO)VE UUU
BB xx

Brother Bramm

2010-07-24T12:15:00.002+01:00

Oh Brother, i care not for cuddly toy, not plastic flower, or boring model laid out on fake lackered table. I am gorgeous for this rainbow (and this is so typical) because i have seen it before, and this wallpaper in which it sets. Before, Imagine: It starts and the lights are on and the wallpaper is just wallpaper and there is no rainbow until something happens (magic), after the lights go off and come back again, and i have taken a illuminous felt tip pen and drawn the most beautiful rainbow with my teeth and i am arco. Arco of halfness, and i am never full up.

Trash Humpers - Harmony Korine 2009

2010-07-15T14:50:00.004+01:00

WE ARE THE TRASH HUMPERS

I decided to go to see Harmony Korine’s new film “Trash Humpers” not on my own exactly, but with a hangover.

I am sat here on my own with all you strangers and it’s nice because it’s so hot outside, and this is a Sunday afternoon, and I am seriously hungover and I just ate a Burger king breakfast in Leister Square all by myself (next to a table of hot-looking French students), and then I had an hour to kill so I hit St James’ park with a takeaway cappuccino and laid there on the grassy verge absorbing my oblong sun and watching hot boys with their tops off, and now on arriving the film has already started and I recognize it from the trailer I saw last week.

Three people, two men and one woman, with masks, Fredy Krugaresque masks, old, disheveled and fully clad in market place leisure gear and velcro pumps are smashing tv’s up in what seems and abandoned house. Already the screen seems to be so full of plastic, bits of crap, fancy dress and ridiculous voluptuous televisual shapes. Smash. Kick it in. you can do it. All said in a Southern drool and high pitched screech. Use that hose. Use it and obuse it. Use it and obuse it. And then repeat this three times. The oozing water forces the wheelchair to move around the back yard as the Krugars squirt it and laugh.

So the filming I gather is perfectly (intentionally) shit. Wobbly, and in focucs, shot on auto? And scraggy vhs quality, edited by pressing forward, rewind, rec, in order to edit the material which is formed as a collage of sorts, like when I used to tape songs from the radio onto my cassette player. But this is not a non-narrative completely as some critics have suggested. It is actually woven together by several reoccurring and common threads. Some of these are three old people (characters). They take it in juvenile tries and turns to film and we can hear them breathing and screeching. The woman. A reddish bob and grayish purple southern bitch slap face is singing this song about the devil. She repeats this when she rocks the baby in a plastic bag. When she takes the baby for a stroll (right at the end –she sings the original version, when we realise that the devil song is her own twisted version of some lullaby) and when she is driving around on her bicycle pulling a doll on a leash behind her. Dragging it through the baron wasteland.

I cannot help but laugh because I am on my own and it allows me to feel like I’m there with someone other than myself. If I could fast forward to the end of the film here, I would know that on entering the dark auditorium, I did in fact know someone sat in the audience, although this is totally irrelevant and I didn’t know it during the film. Similarly chilling and comforting I begin finding comfort in the cinema, it’s air conditioning and sharing laughs with the boys sat behind me now and I’ve still got some of my cappuccino left too. The devil song starts with something like, “two little devils sitting on a wall…”

I am thinking about the casting of this film and how great this fat little chubby kid is as a performer as he takes a hammer to the dolls head and repeats as he screams and hits it’s plastic head. “Im gonna kill you..” and he laughs and I laugh with him, because it is plastic, and we cannot be obsessed with a Freudian symbiotica, instead scrap the question “oh what does this mean?” and just imagine it. It is plastic shit you mother fucking whore, so just “own it….don’t adone it” or something that sounds like that (another repeated American phrase), “un dicho”, that is repeated throughout the film.

The madness and firecracking mayhem of hanging out on the streets at night in suburbia causing old people havoc is eerily, and I wonder why, never witnessed by any of the “normals”. The public space of the motorway lay by, the industrial estate, the multistory car park, the house back yard and drive ways of suburbia are all empty of people. Empty of those who would conventionally look down on the activities that unfold. We know that these pasty normalites are around, because we see their big fuck off Cheverle’s in the drives, and we see their house lights on, and we watch them whiz past on the motorway. But these people never interact or come up against the normals. It’s as if this film had to be filmed at night when nobody was looking. Or is it that nobody is left? The normals have all gone and these are the final few remaining people on this planet, the final self destructive disgusting gross indecent machines?

I am not shocked by this film, and nobody is shocked,. But we are not supposed to feel shocked. So if you think that this isn’t shocking (critics), then I think that Harmony’s dis-harmony is something else. What happens besides shock value, accrued through the immoral act? What else occurs? This is not a-political art either, because we know in its self consciousness that it is avoiding to talk directly about its politics, but it is incoherently instead forcing us to confront our own politics, tastes and moral. Harmony is moving in a different direction. It is towards a Lacanian embrace of the death drive and jouissance, for each hump of a trash can, each molestering of an innocent plastic rubbish bag is a home grown (groan) petit-mort of masturbatory self mortification and degradation. When I say this is different, I don’t mean that it’s unique, hell no, it is more infantile than this. It is ignorant or performs ignorance at least as a means of presenting the libido in all its aesthetical superfluous ways. Harmony is knowing the potentials of ignorance, and that’s why the head feature’s so much in all it’s forms an guises, ugly, big, masked, made-up.

I love this word “degrede”, which sounds so affluent. How do you want your haircut Mrs? Degrede? Oh just slice off my head. That’s what they talk about doing in the attic of some unknown house during their gathering of inspirers. The question comes about –what do we need our heads for? Chop them bitch heads off he says, because he thinks about how much better we would be as little old stumps. Humpy stumpy? The old guy takes it in his stride to promote this unlawful act of chopping off each other’s heads. Cut it off! Think how much money you’d save on the hairdressers. We wouldn’t need to think. We wouldn’t need to see, to hear and to use these organs at all. We would be emotionless. The film manages to locate in us different bodily parts as motivation for action, it’s instead libidinally driven - chasing a masturbating cock, a wanking tree branch , a dirty dumpster. We fuck it and see. We fuck it and see. Yeah, we fuck it.

[Parenthesis: What is the value accrued here? Is this another Bataillian pot-latch? Spending all your reserves in order to accrue a new kind of immaterial value. A social value instead, perhaps? Man you are so fucking hardcore!]

Anyway, it’s manifesto time, another re-occurring feature. We saw them do it with the heads, in the attic, almost speaking in tongues (later they suffocate a man with a plastic bag and rope too, his head no longer needed). The film is intercepted with what seems to be some serious thinking on behalf of these characters, that they do in fact opt to be this way, that they are not unintelligent (perhaps not wholly driven by their libido and the human condition, as might be most easily recognized and dismissed) but they are also world makers, and they are holding comitee meetings (fascist ones) in order to recruit people to chop off heads, to recruit people to waste time, to smoke and lay down on a bed and play the trumpet at the same time and to kill people. They are perhaps more “new-world makers”, because they are not anti – they are not fighting against the pasty normatives. So a manifesto it is, besides humanity, besides life, besides boredom. These are not bereft people. They are not unhappy, dissatisfied or regretful people. Similarly they are not joyous. They do not condole such profane properties but instead embrace destruction and the death drive.

Note for me: Remember now Lee Edelman’s No Future. Remember Bataille’s Pot latch and economies of waste and excess. Remember what Sarah Thornton said about immaterial value as she draws on Bourdieu’s distinctions. Remember Munoz’ Queer Utopia and think about destruction as a form of hope. Or if you don’t feel like that, get a Southern Comfort down you and chop off your head or ask someone else to chop it off for you, like someone who reads this, or someone who watches the film, in other words, some other trash humper.

The Holy Mountain

2010-07-15T12:31:00.009+01:00

I'm so glad i went to the Elevator last night to see this film by Alejandro Jodorowsky. Viva forever the cult of the avant garde and all it's live art followers, wannabes, imitators and inspirers!

SLIME -BAG!

2010-06-18T14:49:00.006+01:00

I am so super excited about this slime i have found - I bought 10 boxes of it! Can't wait to cover my mantle piece in it, and all my photos, trophies, clocks, candlesticks, lamps, plants, mirrors and cactus. I will be SLIMEBAG FOREVER!!!

The Colour of Pomegranites by Sayat Nova (1968)

2010-05-19T18:21:00.010+01:00

i just want to remember this, before even seeing it. i just couldn't wait. i was too impatient. i was naughty because i looked. too soon. too soon now. o o o o o. I am making a small sequence out of stills from the film. I am making a small sequence. before seeing it. before seeing it i can construct it my way. i can construct my own story. Blood.

Writing as bondage

2010-05-07T20:06:00.002+01:00

For rachel.X

I am Ignorant

2010-04-23T13:13:00.011+01:00

Just because it's PORN doesn't mean it's not art.
I am ignorant.
"We are often unaware of the scope and structure of our ignorance. Ignorance is not just a blank space and person's mental map. it has contours and coherance, and for all i know rules of operation aswell. So as a corollary to writing about what we know, maybe we should add getting familiar wiht our ignorance, and the possibilities therin for ruining a good story."
Avital Ronell, "Stupidity", (University of Illinois Press: Urbana and Chicago, 2002) p. 28

Gaga body armor by Alun Davies

My body: your lanscape. (wishes)

2010-03-16T23:09:00.003Z

Justin's Box of Tissues

2010-03-02T23:02:00.002Z

Don't ask.

Love -Stainage

2010-02-16T16:10:00.010Z

Dancing like a plastic bag

2010-01-30T10:15:00.006Z

"Caught unawares, by the capacity of waste, to surprise"
(ed.) Guy Hawkins and Stephen Muecke," Intro: Cultural Economies of Waste", Culture and Waste: The creation and destruction of Value, (Rowman & Littlefield Publishers: New York, 2003)

I Need to Dance, I need to DANCE so much. I Need to DanCE so much like that plastic bag in American Beauty. For my next performance this is what i will do. I will channel the bag, i will channel the plastic transparent and spineless bag and suck up all its formless fissures, its dissolvable shapes, its awkward , frivolous pinapple and it will be the most beautiful thing you have ever experienced. I am bag for you BBX

I was dreaming of the FUTURE again

2010-01-17T12:20:00.007Z

I'm a hedonist. I don't care if it's revolutionary... that's society's business.
(Genesis P-Orridge)

Libidinal bodily matter; interior/ exterior matter that congers up misspelled libido of rotten juices and things that spoon beneath the skin, permitting essential flows of life outward, always simultaneously inwards to the point of zero, but never fully developed, or acknowledged, or misunderstood, due to the factor of it's persistence to just DO for the sake of DOING. To just LIVE in EXCESS of one's own moral judgments, to live a life of exteriority that repels any sign system, any code that any government or teacher, or lover, or friend, or anyone else (in excess of the self) understands. A miss- life is not a life of individuality - total individuality as Quentin Crisps once said, and we must see resemblences here between belonging and desiring unbelonging, to lean forward into the unknown, grapsing the skinny air with raw fists of iron - but not to prove your heroic phantasy - but to unjustify what must always BE justified. All wrapped up in cotten wool - must be burnt. NOT under the sign of ammunition or war, NOT under any heroic act - this is where we come to foresee a futuristic field of desire, and corpses (bodies) that occupy, empty like machines, or a world so beautiful and in love in the bushes and i can't remember...
From: Studio work M&P JAN/2010

Money Bags -Dream Euro

2009-12-29T17:17:00.004Z

Ice Dream -

2009-12-21T19:52:00.003Z

Home for Christmas.....

Dream - Silky silky

2009-12-19T18:56:00.003Z

Silky silky dreamy silver.
I am laying with my arm across his lap again and i am counting the blood pumps that open up new vainy avenues across my breadth to his new beginnings and it's Christmas and i can't remember...

You should also check out this hot Lez who takes photos of German boys with no sexual attraction. They wrestle and she wrestles them down with the camera and i can't remember who...

Dream - to sing

2009-12-09T13:41:00.005Z

I turn over, and i wake myself up singing outloud - and David asks me "are you ok Owen, are you Ok?" and i laugh back to disguise my fear. i laugh in the face of my own fear and fall back into one, deep, so deep and blue that i don't hear it wake me up at 8.55am and i can't remember.
BBx

My dream is to one day, is to one day, is to sing, is to one day, is to sing so loud, is to sing so one day i can sing, so that one day, i sing to dream.

Dream III - Salmon

2009-12-03T09:26:00.002Z

A mounting of silvery fish - inside their scicillian scaly silvery m0on there is pink meat - illuminous almost against this backdrop of mountain silvery grey which i am treading through. there is again - no purpose, but i am not feeling in danger, i am feeling protected by the omega juices that seem to spread my body and turn me into a marinated body, ready for consumption, or, ready to penetrate another body? i am 1 in a sea of 900 million thousand silver salmon fish
BB.x

Dream sequence - Dreaming Green jeans

2009-12-02T11:08:00.004Z

Afetar, afetar, afetar

I am looking down at these legs, funny camera angle, not intentionally - it just is. I am wearing green jeans. Not my green jeans. skinny tight ones. I am in some dispute over whose razor i am using to shave my green jean legs. Someone else has used this razor before. But i am foaming up the green jeans - i think it was my right leg - it looked like it was crossed over the other - but didnt feel like it. I am aware that i might scuff the jeans - and that i am doing this for the sake of it - not becasue it has a purpose. my hairy legs are never seen in the image. but the colour green is all we see, in a frame of black and white.

Milk Dream

2009-12-01T23:24:00.002Z

It's funny. 'Cause i dreamt about it last night. I dreamt about him laying down, underneath me and my mouth was so full of milk, so full of milk it was dribbling slowly from mine to his. it was a continuation of our spit piece, but somehow we had developed a bland coreographic skill of moving very slowely across the room, passing the milk from mouth to mouth, being so careful not to spill it, but of course it did spill. sometimes it dribbled down our cheeks, like lovers first cum. the milk was such a basic element and i was confused about whether we should be naked or wearing trousers? i am imagining grey trousers now, but slightley different ones, and no tops, and shoes - incase people though we were trying to be contemporary dancers - but we were'nt.

On how to sign - Jizz. In sign language.

2009-11-22T12:59:00.003Z

Thank god Adam had some Trophey's to lend us!

2009-11-16T21:39:00.001Z

with our beautiful kitchen backdrop and Katy cooking in the reflex!
Chooxx
BB

Trophey sequence II

2009-11-09T15:00:00.003Z

Sunday -with Kenneth Anger and the clocks gone back

2009-10-25T18:59:00.003Z

and i can't remember
xx BBoy

Trophey sequence

2009-10-24T10:39:00.002+01:00

Loving, so much
BB x.

BACK WTH A NEW FORMAT - HOLD ON, WATCH OUT

2009-10-22T21:49:00.004+01:00

http://www.asianpunkboy.com and banshee-boy.blogspot.com took a holiday together
We shared the same gap and took our summers into the
fall where only time became important to keep us away
from uploading dirty pictures of us from the beach to
my desk to the Sea of Galilee to new beginnings to the
winter and its best friend to falling over in the snow
and discovering greener pastures beneath the salted
grit that burns your lips and i can't remember...

I'm back and that's so nice
BB.xx

Now, I let the Summer In me

2009-08-25T21:51:00.001+01:00

See u/ Couple/ a / week/ s

20 August 2009

2009-08-20T23:25:00.005+01:00

The Land

The most beautiful things can happen, only when you plan them twice.

Today, Yesterday, the day before
I am grandiose grappling with gorilla tactics on gorgeous suns
Block out the window - Quick. The sun, so shine on my back neck and
I give you a love bite
Now i am undone in sugar, so sharp it slits, like cut
like cut, like cut, like cut

BB.

15 August

2009-08-15T17:57:00.003+01:00

Poison - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

THe JOineRs ArmS HaCkey ROad

13 August 2009

2009-08-14T01:31:00.002+01:00

Fotolia toolia, poolia, Mc Donalds and all the names for you tonight, to soak up, or just leave or just remember and i can't...xx

12 August 2009

2009-08-12T19:53:00.003+01:00

Queer Orientations:
Wiggling a pencil in between my thumb and first finger
Walking through Hamstead Heath at any time of day
Winking
Walking the wrong way up the escalator at Chancery Lane
Wedging myself in between my mother and father as they sleep
Wanting with my whole body
Waiting for the green man to cross the road
Walking the long way home
Wiping down the scurtin boards with a damp flannel
Wanking in the mirror and on the internet and in someone elses shorts

10 August 2009

2009-08-11T00:00:00.002+01:00

I had to move the desk, and to move the desk i had to move the bed, and to move the bed i had to move the big suitcase, and the dust, and my films, and a bag with London in it, and i had to just do that today because i was almost definitely avoiding the thing i should do today. My new position will bring me new and juicier fruit, as old moon shines on my naked sleep, and my head, this head full of moon juice. nightx

9 August 2009

2009-08-09T17:48:00.005+01:00

Soles on Fire: Not a Long Time ago

dip dip dip on ur mobile phone
dip dip dip on ur mobile phone
u fuck my man and break my home
i'll get my man to rob ur phone

8 August 2009

2009-08-08T18:33:00.002+01:00

I love so much the Chocolate *fish.
I ate one last night and it was all over my face, so beautiful and intentional.
I today, i had to, today, because the sun was shining so powerful on my solar panel
I had to draw it, to curve its outline and to enjoy it once again.
I was all over it, all over it like a rasberry and so unconventional, so unconventional
I did it, I did it because they told me i should forget about the things i can't see
and i can't remember...
Love
lovex

6 August 2009

2009-08-06T21:42:00.003+01:00

Bon Jovi, Dylan Thomas (cariad) on Jello. so much tie going on down their beneath the waters, holes, poking fingers through slippery knives. Watch it! Yes, Yes, your eyes ( so they move around the frame) don't ask me if there is something on my mind. I am fucking jello to meet you. snitch of an arm, its like a pit down there. dont hold your breath while you eat, it all rhymes and i can't remember.
Love
BB-da'poeta
x

5 August 2009

2009-08-05T21:37:00.003+01:00

Some rich kid's been drawing cocks on the roof of his parent's mansion while they were out for crocket...

3 August 2009

2009-08-03T23:39:00.003+01:00

there's just loads of old Ritas working there. oh you are such a ...mmm eeeer what does that mean? oh..you are such a.....

2 August 2009

2009-08-02T15:40:00.002+01:00

i am not religious....By my beautiful friend Eleanor: http://raddestrightnow.blogspot.com/

30 July 2009

2009-07-30T22:19:00.002+01:00

SOUTHERN
COMFORT

Take it with lemonade and a dash of lime:
Southern humpy, down heaps of hotel muddling, intercepts of provocateer, for want of lesser things to do, make mine a large one:
i am willing
Bbx

29 July 2009

2009-07-29T22:02:00.002+01:00

I would be so happy here: because i like having people around. because i like my own space and i like to wank flowers heads off roses and throw them from the trees. because i could always leave. because of primary colours. because i would feel like im always flying. because i will never have to keep my feet on the ground. because it doesn't look too far away from home, and i cant remember. the one downstairs is where its at. it always is...
love bbx

28 July 2009

2009-07-28T23:10:00.002+01:00

Head work

27 July 2009 - RIP Merce Cunningham

2009-07-27T20:42:00.006+01:00

" I cook, and Merce does the dishes"

Beloved words of John Cage

25 July 2009

2009-07-25T14:22:00.002+01:00

Check them out! www.luigiyluca.com
i) Take a stance; you don't have to make it happen, but you could, just for one night -garment grovler, you have come a long way since september, and i can't remember...
ii)Pieta
iii) if you sneeze you will drop him. don't let him go this way

23 July 2009

2009-07-23T23:39:00.002+01:00

Oh my F G! I am so excited by this hole. i want my book to look like this too. always jabbic!\xx

22 July 2009

2009-07-22T23:52:00.002+01:00

Duchamp and the boys - Screen grab

21 July 2009

2009-07-21T22:33:00.003+01:00

dOn't lEt thE MoON geT yOu DoWN

embrace it's minimal qualities and use it to organise your life, and clean your bedroom.

oh, look at the poor olive tree, so skinny. big moon of light, shine up my arse and come forth lileth.

someone built a stupid wall. take note of the architecture before you use concrete mix

biro blood. writ wit love
xbb