I've wondered off and on over the months whether I should go back and revise my own history. I'm talking about these piles of archives (links at left) covered with a thick layer of digital dust from 2 and a half years of blogging. I mean, what's the value really? I was a different person in November of 2003 than I am now. Circumstances change. Ideas change. And its invariably some forgotten post from 2004 that earns me these threats of lawsuits I occasionally have to swat away.

The increased traffic due to yesterday's article had me wondering this again. After all, isn't this a chance to create who I am now rather than what I was then?

I went back into Mat Gleason's earliest archives just for the heck of it. Gleason (editor of L.A.'s art rag Coagula) has been blogging with an unvarnished tongue and a merciless eye for something like 4 and half years, which in blog years makes you pretty old. I came to art blogging by reading Gleason and Tyler Green, and thinking, "Well, hell, it doesn't take any special talent to be bitchy on the Internet. I can do that."

Pawing through some of Gleason's posts from February of '02, I came across this (excerpted below):

"See, almost everyone in the art world avoids ever speaking their minds in order to avoid threatening the offers that may come their way. But I know the only reason any offers come my way is because I can be counted on to tell the truth as i see it, not as it is convenient to my career. If it worked for me, why wouldn't it work for you? Too many people start worrying about guarding their careers before they ever have one."

Yeah, I knew there was reason I liked him, even though I frequently think he's gone way over the top.

I've left my archives alone. They're all still there--all the ranting from '04, all the aimless wandering of '05. It's all still there. This blog was supposed to be an experiment and it continues its experimental nature.

In some way I guess it would be inaccurate to delete those archives. We're not just who we are in a moment, not some decontextualized transverse slice of a person without a memory. We are the self that has come through many other selves. Those previous selves had their reality as much as the current one does. And in as much as this living document is a public record, it makes sense to keep that history and to respect all the other people I've been.

'Cuz I can't bring myself to read it. Reading about myself makes me squirm almost as much as watching moving images of myself. Ay-ay-ay!

UPDATE: All right, OK, I read it. I am honored, humbled. Thank you, Atlanta. Also, I'm sure to get in trouble with all my old Austin gallery friends; just remember those comments were part of a much larger conversation!

So last Saturday's soft opening of Study Hall at Eyedrum ended up being even softer than intended. Only about 3/4 of the work even made it up, but that was cool as we hadn't started advertising yet and so only a few people came by for it. I breathed a sigh of relief over that and crashed out Saturday night as I hadn't in a long, long time, missing Fahamu's birthday party, but getting some much needed R 'n' R.

The show still needed a good couple days of work, but now has recouped and is open for business. I learned a lot doing this show; although the layout is great for meandering, it photographs terribly. And the lighting still somehow doesn't quite work, something I'll try to fix this morning. Lessons learned...

In a shameless attempt to get attention and to get feedback from potential readers, I've put together a little Reader's Feedback Survey at Code Z. We're also giving away 2 DVDs in a random drawing of all the fully-completed surveys. The survey is short (12 questions) and really easy. So all you future Code Z'ers stop by and fill it out today!

I do these things secretly from time to time. But this one I've got to post the results. Oh, check the irony...

You Are Austin

A little bit country, a little bit rock and roll. You're totally weird and very proud of it. Artistic and freaky, you still seem to fit in... in your own strange way. Famous Austin residents: Lance Armstrong, Sandra Bullock, Andy Roddick

Every waking minute now goes to The Carbonist School show at Eyedrum due to open this Saturday. Fortunately, the reception isn't until weeks later so the opening will be a rather... soft one.

So audiologo slid up in the joint a couple of months ago. She's not wearing her ATL roots on her sleeve, but we're clockin' you at Eyedrum and elsewhere! Audiologo treats the visual, the aural, the... legible, and more. Thanks for the links and the connection.

The work has been proceeding on the house next door, albeit mostly invisibly and silently. It has grown a digestive system though, and a nervous system. For a couple of days I heard all this banging that I couldn't account for. Then I saw this in the lot behind, which would be one street over:




In case you can't tell from the picture, that would be 2 houses y'all.

Saturday night, I got out to East Atlanta, which I don't visit often enough. Alex says, "See, this reminds you of Austin, right?" Nah. It reminds me of San Antonio--more manicured, more intentional. You go into a restaurant and all the chairs match. There's nothing wrong with that.

We were in the area for Ernesto Cuevas's show at Sabra Gallery. If you see this show go right to the small stuff because that's where the action is. The small drawings are tight and unencumbered. In the range of 4 by 6 inches, they are diagrams, symbols, and maps charting Ernesto's themes of cultural displacement and social (re)organization. I liked their direct and efficient quality. The large paintings, on the other hand, are encumbered. They bow under the weight of the massive themes they attempt to address. Some are more successful than others, but on the whole they feel overreaching to me.

Normally a show like this would have you believe the small drawings are sketches that work out ideas for larger paintings. Here, it's the other way around. The paintings are the beginning of the ideas that become more and more resolved, more and more powerful and damning the smaller they become.

Ok, a quick and dirty one here. The Code Z informational site is officially launched, which I guess begins a kind of count down to the real launch. Response so far has been literally overwhelming, as I'm already getting too much email to respond personally to each one. This bodes well... knock on wood!

current music: Alanis Morissette, Supposed Former Infatuation Junkie

Last seen in India, Alex popped in last night by surprise. That was just the push I needed to put down the code and get out to Jerry Cullum's 60th birthday party, just to do something different and actually maybe take a night off for the first time in weeks. Cullum is senior editor at Art Papers, and we've corresponded on a couple of occasions over the years, though I'd never actually met him until last night.

So the party was fun, booze was had. More faces were matched to names I've heard or read about over the last several months. K Tauches dropped some science about a new publication she's working on--photo essays. I'm looking forward to it. Atlanta needs more publications of all kinds.

And it was all capped off by Jerry telling a joke I didn't understand, but in a very funny way. He's great and without pretense and I'm glad I got to know him.

p.s., I'm hoping someone knows who was taking pictures last night so I can give credit where credit is due.

Update: Photographer is Tom Meyer. Web address is in the comments.

The last few days have been filled with more wrestling code. All manner of CSS, HTML, PHP, CGI, NRA and WTF. I see the light at the end of the tunnel though, and I can probably measure my time left in hours rather than in days.

Meanwhile, I am excited about NBAF's upcoming Embrace fine art fair. I was not excited until I realized several weeks ago that this is wholly separate from the still mostly unexciting artists market affair at Greenbriar Mall. NBAF has largely been a brilliant performing arts festival and the visual program has paled in comparison to it. Even now, check out the ads in Creative Loafing and you would assume that this is a music and dance festival only--the visual art literally serves only a backdrop to the images of performers doing their thing. As the NBAF goes from 0 to 60 in its visual program it remains to be seen how much the Embrace facilitator Mason Murer will alter the texture of the NBAF and how much the influence will go the other way around.

Now in addition to eating and breathing Code Z, I am officially dreaming about it, too. Specifically, dreaming about working out the CSS code for the interim site, something I had hoped to be finished with 4 days ago according to the shedual.