you look honest when you’re telling a lie

“Anything worth doing is worth doing badly” - John Baldessari

I’ve always liked Baldessari. He did it his way. I’m not trying to be an art critic. I think there are no rules. And it reminded me— to do what I want. The above is from his book National City. It’s tonality reminded me of the Fairfield Porter below.

I like a tablescape. Not a food pic. I made the below one in Menorca. June 2023. Last real vacation I took.

And this JH Engstrom picture I saw in Paris this June. From his book, Sketches of Paris. I remembered I had a copy at home. I love the Contax TVS on the table. And that the picture is a real moment. Big group dinner out. Order the entire menu. It’s a picture of a picture in a book. Exemplified what my trip was like.

My life has changed— somewhat recently ish. So I went to Paris alone. Last minute. For work. I had to extend several days to get what I wanted. A show to curate. It was 72º and breezy. An escape from the New York wave of heat.

I met with artists, curators, gallery and bookstore owners. Saw friends. I thought the trip was going to solidify my future plans. Live a third of the year in Paris. But by day 8— I was ready to come home. Couldn’t figure out why. Maybe I wanted to get back to start work on the shows and books. Or dig in to the new creative director role I just signed on to. Maybe I wanted to sleep in my own bed?

Or maybe it’s the Tulumification of Europe (my word). I see happening. Frantically flying across the Atlantic to be surrounded by the same people. Wearing the same outfits. Cosplaying the part. A globalization of culture.

That’s not a thin slice impression. There’s a checklist of expectations. And the boxes to check are all the same.

But Summer equals the beach anywhere. I thought of Edward Weston prints I saw at AIPAD back in April. Not sure why— but they’ve always made me laugh.

Which reminded me of this Lawrence Weiner. I saw it in December 2023. Miami Basel.

Wild— how a few words can drive home an idea.

“You look honest when you’re telling a lie” the best Wilco lyric. From not my favorite of their songs.

Or all of Pale Blue Eyes. Music is what all art aspires to be. I’m a broken record. I know. Sorry.

But a song can travel around the world in seconds. People in an unrelated place, time, situation— feel the same exact thing. A rise in your cortisol. Pang in your heart.

“thought of you as my mountaintop, thought of you as my peak, thought of you as everything— I’ve had but couldn’t keep.”

No painting or picture can do that.

Pale blues reminds me of a trip to Greece two Summers ago. It’s unique light. August 2022.

We stayed in an airbnb with no duvet. Europeans don’t know they like to be comfortable. The framing of the window reminded me of a Dani McKenzie painting my friend Will showed at Long Story Short. Sierra sent me the link.

I mostly thought of it while I was in Paris. For such a picturesque city I find it hard to take a good picture. Like this one. Which is… fine.

But it reminded me of Edward Hopper’s Nighthawks. He painted it on Greenwich Avenue. A block from my apartment in New York. First time I saw it I was a kid. Solidified a life long love of representation.

After Paris I went to LA in early July. Then again last week.

The first trip was to solidify another show I’m curating. It’ll open in January 2025.

Whenever I’m trying to reset— I strangely go to Los Angeles. The only other place I’ve thought about living.

Back to Greece. Antiparos to Athens. We took a ferry rather than a plane. It was a relax.

I had a club sandwich in a club chair. And dozed off...

As the ship cut through the Aegean— Pale Blue Eyes played again over the loudspeakers in my head. “she said money is like us in time. It lies, but can’t stand up.”

This is what the ferry tickets looked like.

I see a lot of men walking around Manhattan with their shirts off. Strange decision. I don’t care at all. But it’s weird. Is what I’m saying. Weird as hell.

But reminded my why I started taking pictures. I was curious about the choices we make.

I thought about The Road Not Taken. Frost. Everyone knows the poem. But if you don’t I feel less cliche for mentioning it.

.

Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.

.

It came to mind when I saw the new Brian Eno doc. It’s generative. Uses ai to sequence scenes, interviews, unreleased footage and music differently. It’s never the same movie twice. An auto choose-your-own-adventure.

Metaphor for life? Something you said or did, decision you made. Small or large. Changed your trajectory completely. I spent too much time in Paris thinking about my own choices. Brian Eno’s Spinning Away was playing on repeat.

A road I’ve not taken— Japan. It’s on everyones list. It can be on mine too, ok? I’d like to try and go this Fall.

Asako Narahashi’s pictures of Mt Fuji make me feel like I’m drowning. Or when the duvet is too fluffed and you have to peer over them to see the tv.

These pictures are from her book, Ever After. About the threshold between sleep and wakefulness. Sentiments of an era in crisis. Her words.

Reminds me a bit of Interstellar.

But back to Paris— I got a last minute ticket. Stayed at a friend’s place that was out of town.

Was strange to be there for so long. In an apartment. Rather than hotel.

Saw the Brancusi show at Pompidou. It was a retrospective. The city in the backdrop. Think I liked the installation more than the actual work.

My long stretch in Paris had me thinking about Get Back. The Beatles doc. It played in the background of my life for the first half of 2022. Seven hours long. 55 years ago. The most influential life changing music art unexplainable thing that still sounds great today.

A scene that stuck out to me was Lennon running late. And you watch as McCartney makes Get Back out of thin air.

Reminded me of something my friend Rich said. As he watched two people get married. “I had a good angle on happiness.”

But I’m listening to The Long And Winding Road. That’s the song playing for me. Just me.

Because the film is not only about the triumphant and eternal music.

From my couch we saw the band grapple to stay together. And grieve the loss when it fell apart. That’s relatable. Gravity applies to everyone. And we have to splinter off. Make our own way. Like the director Peter Jackson said about the film. “There’s no villains, there’s no heroes. It’s just a human story.”