This is what happened.

-Parched

-Thirsty

-Hungry

-Famished

-Peckish

-Starved

-Starving

-Craving
-Running on empty

-Dying

To Get:

With it

To Bring:

Everything

To Do:

As much as possible

SATURDAY, NOVEMBER 7, 2009

Quote of the day: “I hate the color blue. I hate it so much!” –Some guy on the street while walking to Cold Water exhibition

Performance 1 (Workshop)

Artist: Project Projects

Title: Actions Propaganda

Date: Saturday, November 7, 2009

Time: 11:00AM

Venue: The Performa Hub

Geographic Location: Cooper Union

REALNESS Present (in all caps):

-DEFNE AYAS REALNESS

-PLYWOOD REALNESS (repeat)

-SLIDESHOW REALNESS

-POSTER REALNESS

-MOLLY REALNESS

-POSTER MAKING REALNESS

-ACTIONS REALNESS

-ETHICAL ISSUES REALNESS

-FALLEN FRUIT REALNESS

-DEAD BATTERY REALNESS

-WALK IT TO K-MART REALNESS

-GINA PERFORMA INTERRUPTING PHOTO SHOOT REALNESS

-CHECK-OUT REALNESS

-COLLAGE REALNESS

-FELLOW WRITING FELLOW REALNESS (repeat)

-ROSELEE GOLDBERG REALNESS (five-peat)

-PHOTOCOPY REALNESS

-PROPAGANDA REALNESS

-GLUE STICK REALNESS

-SHARPIE REALNESS

- PERFORMA HUB REALNESS

Performance 2 (Exhibition)

Part of the Lust Weekend

Artist: Various (curated by Justin Bond and Hilton Als)

Title: Cold Water

Date: Saturday, November 7, 2009

Time: 6:30PM

Venue: La MaMa Galleria

Geographic Location: The East Village

REALNESS present (in the dark; in all caps):

-GLITTER REALNESS

-DIPTYCH REALNESS

-JUSTIN BOND REALNESS

-TENDRILS REALNESS

-ANAL REALNESS

-PUCKER REALNESS

-PHALLIC FORMS REALNESS

-POLAROID REALNESS

-ERECTION REALNESS

-NO NAME PLATES REALNESS

-GOLDEN SHOWERS REALNESS

-TV ON THE FLOOR REALNESS (x2)

-MANNISH FACE REALNESS

-ETHEREAL REALNESS

-ANGRY BUNNIES REALNESS

-theo REALNESS

-BLEEDING VAGINA REALNESS

-BABY FACE REALNESS

-HIGH ANXIETY REALNESS

-SEWN @ THE HEAD REALNESS

-QUEER REALNESS

-CONFETTI REALNESS

-THE GLAMOROUS MASK REALNESS

ARCHITECTURE, LUST AND ICE: A MANIFESTO WITHOUT A CALL TO ACTION

You don’t walk through the city

The city walks through you

Behind each step is a blueprint

designed by some man

“Who says I like right angles?

These are not my laws,

These are not my rules…” ^◊

Men’s designs

Designing the way your body moves

It is no coincidence that a woman is credited

with inventing the external fire escape;

her most significant contribution to the complexion of the cityscape–

an emergency exit

Woman’s answer to a life lived within

the burning paths and platforms

dictated by the cult of men

We don’t have to leap to our deaths from the windows anymore

We can climb down

Like ladies

I mean, really-

Isn’t there just a little rape

in every print your foot leaves

along the callous corridors, the corners

of this sluggish,

stubborn,

impossibly phallic

nineteenth-century city?

“Too cold,

and old,

and settled in its ways…”  ^{◊ ◊}

I can still smell the cigars

No?

Isn’t the shape your feet assume–

as you t’sk from task to task

throughout your day (like a good little girl?)–

designed by men?

Molded by high heels

Warped

As if squeezed out of shape

by the jealous,

knotted hand of man?

While the flat foot of woman,

blunt,

strong,

level,

through which she would draw her natural power out of Mother earth,

is contracted,

skewed,

and swung into a soft, harmless…

tilde

~

by the erotic imagination of men:

By design,

woman’s position of power has been

literally and figuratively

abbreviated

Even her footprint is bisected,

shrunk,

a point and a triangle,

a strange, abstract geometric proposition

We are meant to teeter

over cobbled stones

To stumble

over subway gratings

To tumble over

turnstiles

We are,

designed by men,

to be mysterious

and unstable

~

But I love men

Or,

rather,

I love to love men

“Lust is a force…

Art and war are the great manifestations of sensuality; lust is their flower,”

so said Valentine de Saint-Point

Lust has driven me to wage war with men,

and to make art of them;

has served as a source for creation

from the very destruction lust catalyzes

These words are a propaganda

for that war,

for that creation–

to both of which I am inexorably bound

I have wandered the city streets looking for men

Finding them

Watching them

Haunting them

Dealing with them

and their

PATRIARCHITECTURE

their fortresses

their erections

Excavating their

quiet faults and secret vulnerabilities;

the soft places you can

touch and smell

only if you get past the security guard:

the powerful warmth

coming off the naked pelvis

the phallus–hard and dumb–

moving toward you

the loins, ticklish and round

the furry cradle of the perineum

the delicate pleats

of the anus;

cinched;

autumn leaves;

aromatic;

hot

like his wet breath

and the sweat trapped

between his body

and my back

heavy heat

steam releasing strength

scalding

the burn

of a ribbon of semen

when it first strikes the skin

before

it gathers

and quiets

and settles into a deep pool

Cold Water

A drink

A quench

Ice water in a glass gathers perspiration

and sits tilting on the arm of a chair

I want to dive into that glass

and ice

and cold water

In a flash,

and float

Shimmering wet cold enveloping

Skin puckering

Shivering pale

Your cold water

The boy is naked there

Floating wet and cold

And even the glassy beams of sun that

reach him in the bottom of the swimming hole

are chilling, like…

Icicles

Icicles

“Where are you going?” ◊ ◊ ◊

Lust has kept me in this city

When long ago

“I should have flown” ◊ ◊ ◊

“Oh-oh, oh-oh-oh Desire” ◊ ◊ ◊ ◊

My Foe

My Failure

My Ruin

Ruin

Ruin

Ruin

Ruin

Ruin

Ruin

Ruin

Ruin

Ruin

Ruin

Ruin

Ruin

Ruin

Ruin

Ruin

Ruin

Ruin

Ruin

Ruin

◊ From  “I’m No Heroine” by Ani DiFranco

◊ ◊ From “California” by Joni Mitchell

◊ ◊ ◊ From  “Icicle” by Tori Amos

◊ ◊ ◊ ◊ From “Sawdust and Diamonds” by Joanna Newsom