“We believe in one god, the father the almighty, maker of heaven and earth, of all that is seen and unseen... We believe in one holy catholic and apostolic church, one baptism for the forgiveness of sins… we look to the resurrection of the dead and the life of the world to come. Amen. My head is full of that shit, pinning me down like a disease.”
“Oh, it’s no disease Danny Rose, you are the disease.”
“How so?”
“It is you who are a blight to belief.”
“You can teach people anything. In Rochester we teach each other how to scowl.”
“It’s survival, and you risk it. I’m not going to condone that behavior.”
“I didn’t ask for your personal blessing.”
“And I won’t give it.” I wanted the blessing – I didn’t want to go it alone. “Is there anything else?”
“Besides the empty thoughts? Besides the absolution?”
“Yes.”
“There is my loathing of you and also all the little sins that make up a person. Everybody has them, but I see them and they float in my consciousness like gnats.”
“You loath the priests?” I got him on that.
“Well, yes, as a social rule; I loathe what the priests have done. What the order of catholic priests has allowed.” He knew what I meant so he changed directions.
“What are the little sins?”
“Everything. Sex stuff. Small lies or rather, embellishments. Desire. Envy. Adultery. It gets easier but they are there and there is nothing more.”
“Nothing more?”
“There is nothing deeper. I have no will to lie.”
“But you are lying.” Pause. I listened for more. Nothing came.
“Finish it up then. Give me my penance.”
“Begin again. Lose your belief, forget yourself, begin again. And pray, 100 each, Hail Mary’s and Our Fathers.”
“That’s it?” I said in temptation.
“And don’t tempt the lord. Don’t temp the messenger.”
I nodded although I knew the man couldn’t see me.
I was at the end again and couldn’t see the ‘begin again.’ I was certain though about this, there was the end. I could feel an end.
Monday, June 30, 2008
Sunday, June 29, 2008
Thursday, June 26, 2008
Wednesday, June 25, 2008
teeth
New Jersey is a bag of nails, teeth and bones, and I was born in it and I am of it.
“First off Danny, shut up. Second, you are not better than us - the same blood runs in your veins as runs through mine,” my sister said wish a gesture indicating her body’s vascular structure. I sat waiting for more punches. Though, I had already lost my cool.
“All you people are insane.” I was referring to my family and most of northern NJ who tend to regard NYC as anxiety ridden traffic jam. This insane comment prompted the ‘shut up’ and ‘better than us’ deal. I thought about it a second and decided to apologize. “I’m sorry, you’re not insane. I don’t think I am better than you.”
“Well, you should be sorry and you’re not better than us.”
I remained quiet.It took an intersession from Z before the anxiety was settled. All of this because we were going to take mom into New York and have her out before noon for the party. The plan was simple, it always is, take the tunnel in, get a bagel at Zabar’s, cross the park at 79th to the East Side, park on Madison, take the boy to the super hero and rooftop Koons exhibit at the Met, reverse course and deliver mom to her surprise party at one. Simple. I suppose in terms of desired outcomes for the day the thought was I wouldn’t be responsible enough to get it done right. I couldn’t worry about that now. We went and were home well before one and the surprise went off without a hitch though there was much talk and discussion about it at the party. I knew at that moment that nearly all of my anxiety was learned. I also knew that my mother and I were kindred spirits. We had, all and all, a perfect day.
All the while a line from a Chris Whitley cover droned in my mind – “But I have to ask. Are friends electric?” I scanned that crowd and saw it. I heard it in the music banded with the bloody broken vibe. I felt lucky for it.
“First off Danny, shut up. Second, you are not better than us - the same blood runs in your veins as runs through mine,” my sister said wish a gesture indicating her body’s vascular structure. I sat waiting for more punches. Though, I had already lost my cool.
“All you people are insane.” I was referring to my family and most of northern NJ who tend to regard NYC as anxiety ridden traffic jam. This insane comment prompted the ‘shut up’ and ‘better than us’ deal. I thought about it a second and decided to apologize. “I’m sorry, you’re not insane. I don’t think I am better than you.”
“Well, you should be sorry and you’re not better than us.”
I remained quiet.It took an intersession from Z before the anxiety was settled. All of this because we were going to take mom into New York and have her out before noon for the party. The plan was simple, it always is, take the tunnel in, get a bagel at Zabar’s, cross the park at 79th to the East Side, park on Madison, take the boy to the super hero and rooftop Koons exhibit at the Met, reverse course and deliver mom to her surprise party at one. Simple. I suppose in terms of desired outcomes for the day the thought was I wouldn’t be responsible enough to get it done right. I couldn’t worry about that now. We went and were home well before one and the surprise went off without a hitch though there was much talk and discussion about it at the party. I knew at that moment that nearly all of my anxiety was learned. I also knew that my mother and I were kindred spirits. We had, all and all, a perfect day.
All the while a line from a Chris Whitley cover droned in my mind – “But I have to ask. Are friends electric?” I scanned that crowd and saw it. I heard it in the music banded with the bloody broken vibe. I felt lucky for it.
Monday, June 23, 2008
Sunday, June 22, 2008
Saturday, June 21, 2008
Buttercup
I sat exhausted, sipping on wine and scanning recent pics for a thread to lay itself bare. Sometimes there are no threads. So I sat to write a letter to my wife’s lawyer. I kept it cold and private. All the while it swirled with a surreal quality. My ex-wife maintains a distance of an ex-wife’s necessity; the lawyer crafts his language with a lawyer’s cadence; I resist the urge to lay myself bare - All of it hostile in its self righteous accord - all of it trash. I wrapped it up and met Butter at the bar.
Her soft eyes and milky skin met mine with a hesitant ease. I’m used to it now. We drank and talked among friends and when enough liquor had numbed the hesitation we fucked in the girls bathroom. My cock was so hard it hurt and I nearly exploded just unzipping my pants but we made it through some initial thrusts, went at it hard for a few minutes and decided to continue later when we could lay together. I was exhausted and she was just starting which meant she needed to talk. I sat back and massaged my throat and stroked my beard thinking, “this is how a man gets run down and biblical plague sets in.” I looked into her eyes and felt her soft hands and wrists up to where the needle pierced the vein and a small dot remained.
“They’re gonna cut both of my eye lids. It will leave a scar.” Orbital tumor.
“Tell them to keep the cuts small. Talk to the surgeon.”
“They know. He already says my skin is perfect for healing. They’ll make the cut on the crease in my lids.”
“Yea.”
“Yea.”
“You know, this may make me ugly. I mean this is some fucked up shit, I don’t know what is going to happen but I’m giving you the option to bail. I totally would not be offended if you wanted out. I’ll be in Canada for months.” I was offended with the thought of leaving.
“I don’t choose my friends for whether or not they get sick. It is what it is buttercup.”
“Yuck, that’s what my Dad says, it is what it is.”
I shrugged.
“Baby.”
“Let’s go doll.”
“I’m gonna get another drink. If you need to go, you can go. I know you’re travelling in the morning.”
I looked at her with raised eyebrows and a sideways smile. “OK. I’m out then.”
“No, stay.” Drunk.
“You’re selfish darlin’.” She knew it. Drunken behavior.
And it goes.
Her soft eyes and milky skin met mine with a hesitant ease. I’m used to it now. We drank and talked among friends and when enough liquor had numbed the hesitation we fucked in the girls bathroom. My cock was so hard it hurt and I nearly exploded just unzipping my pants but we made it through some initial thrusts, went at it hard for a few minutes and decided to continue later when we could lay together. I was exhausted and she was just starting which meant she needed to talk. I sat back and massaged my throat and stroked my beard thinking, “this is how a man gets run down and biblical plague sets in.” I looked into her eyes and felt her soft hands and wrists up to where the needle pierced the vein and a small dot remained.
“They’re gonna cut both of my eye lids. It will leave a scar.” Orbital tumor.
“Tell them to keep the cuts small. Talk to the surgeon.”
“They know. He already says my skin is perfect for healing. They’ll make the cut on the crease in my lids.”
“Yea.”
“Yea.”
“You know, this may make me ugly. I mean this is some fucked up shit, I don’t know what is going to happen but I’m giving you the option to bail. I totally would not be offended if you wanted out. I’ll be in Canada for months.” I was offended with the thought of leaving.
“I don’t choose my friends for whether or not they get sick. It is what it is buttercup.”
“Yuck, that’s what my Dad says, it is what it is.”
I shrugged.
“Baby.”
“Let’s go doll.”
“I’m gonna get another drink. If you need to go, you can go. I know you’re travelling in the morning.”
I looked at her with raised eyebrows and a sideways smile. “OK. I’m out then.”
“No, stay.” Drunk.
“You’re selfish darlin’.” She knew it. Drunken behavior.
And it goes.
Friday, June 20, 2008
Thursday, June 19, 2008
Wednesday, June 18, 2008
Monday, June 16, 2008
Sunday, June 15, 2008
Saturday, June 14, 2008
Next
text: wackos
text return: all of them! Philadelphia on point. Hours pass.
Phone rings. Butter. “Hi babe.” “What did they say?”
“It’s not good.” “Yea. What’s it?”
“They don’t know.”
“What is it so far?”
“There’s a mass on my brain. It runs from my eye through the nerve to the frontal lobe. There’s a spot on my brain.”
“Ok, it is what it is.” I felt it.
“I know.”
“You know this much. Now we know what it looks like and soon you’ll know what it is.”
“Yes. What can I do? I’m coming back tomorrow. The doctor warned me about it but what am I going to do? I don’t have insurance in the states. I don’t know what to do with that warning.”
“I don’t have insurance in the states. If you need care simply take it. Take what you need and walk out.”
“You think? They don’t know what it is.”
“What if it’s love?” Like a tumor. Laughter.
“I’m coming back. I’m not going to plan for the worst, I’d be bored as hell.”
“Butter, call if you want.”
“I’m going to bed, I have to be on the road by nine.”
“Call if you want. Sweet dreams doll.”
“Sweet dreams to you.”
This is it. This is what's next.
text return: all of them! Philadelphia on point. Hours pass.
Phone rings. Butter. “Hi babe.” “What did they say?”
“It’s not good.” “Yea. What’s it?”
“They don’t know.”
“What is it so far?”
“There’s a mass on my brain. It runs from my eye through the nerve to the frontal lobe. There’s a spot on my brain.”
“Ok, it is what it is.” I felt it.
“I know.”
“You know this much. Now we know what it looks like and soon you’ll know what it is.”
“Yes. What can I do? I’m coming back tomorrow. The doctor warned me about it but what am I going to do? I don’t have insurance in the states. I don’t know what to do with that warning.”
“I don’t have insurance in the states. If you need care simply take it. Take what you need and walk out.”
“You think? They don’t know what it is.”
“What if it’s love?” Like a tumor. Laughter.
“I’m coming back. I’m not going to plan for the worst, I’d be bored as hell.”
“Butter, call if you want.”
“I’m going to bed, I have to be on the road by nine.”
“Call if you want. Sweet dreams doll.”
“Sweet dreams to you.”
This is it. This is what's next.
Friday, June 13, 2008
deal
Here is the deal. I’ve lost nearly all domesticity. It’s what I wanted but now I miss it. What I imagine myself to be I’m not. What I imagine you to be what you’re not. I say to Butter, “babe, I don’t like television.” I sat there and felt my space be sucked out by the constant event. “Banality is better,” I added. Perhaps the whole thing is banal, all of it. Butter stares back through watery eyes – the lump from behind the optical nerve bulging out. “I do judge it” I thought. Let it go Daniel, let it go…
Tuesday, June 10, 2008
making love to butter
I was making love to butter when I fell asleep. it was late and I was exhausted although I knew she wasn't. it didn't matter, i had sufficiently pleased her and also knew there would be other nights. I would wake up, go off to work and ponder the gesture like a champ, being certain not to allow the heat to turn to promise or worse, sentiment. Butter had a clear need for distance and like so many before her use alcohol in late hours to bridge the temporal gap. She was all there, conscious but this is the trick, in the unutterable sense she wasn't. So, in this state, the days dragged on and I had no more days, not since the biblical plague.
The plague was a moment of mortality. I had somehow, through fatigue, allowed a common illness to infiltrate my tonsils and swell with ulcers. Every breath was painful. In another time and place it would have killed me but as it was, I survived. The emergency room provided nothing or worse, it provided nothing and a hefty bill. If I were a better man I would have presented with health care and a fat check but this moment was nothing of the sort and I was treated as such. No doctor visited me, no stethoscope was laid on my chest and no concern for my health was given outside of the tech who took the culture for analysis. 'Typical' they called it, but i almost perished and there was no one to account for it. These are limited times and this moment will come and pass. Discard the frivolous and seek a higher cause or leave the way clear for it was the message. the smallest thing could end a person and it happened all the time. i thought of waking up alone or worse, waking up with a baggage claim and little else to show for it. The mark of a coward. It didn't matter i was Don Quixote and this was a method of engagement. it didn't matter if i was right. that's what they all knew and that is what I aspired not to know. The moment I let go of youth is the moment of death so I kept on in bewilderment. I had at least this thing, this one thing, the connection to a planetary spew, a blog and a sense that I learned something between wanting a crystal and saving it. But i had no more time and I knew it. Despite this i spent many hours flipping through movie channels in the ninety degree heat and sipping on portuguese sparkling wine. I am a race horse heading for the triple crown. I am the dead.
The plague was a moment of mortality. I had somehow, through fatigue, allowed a common illness to infiltrate my tonsils and swell with ulcers. Every breath was painful. In another time and place it would have killed me but as it was, I survived. The emergency room provided nothing or worse, it provided nothing and a hefty bill. If I were a better man I would have presented with health care and a fat check but this moment was nothing of the sort and I was treated as such. No doctor visited me, no stethoscope was laid on my chest and no concern for my health was given outside of the tech who took the culture for analysis. 'Typical' they called it, but i almost perished and there was no one to account for it. These are limited times and this moment will come and pass. Discard the frivolous and seek a higher cause or leave the way clear for it was the message. the smallest thing could end a person and it happened all the time. i thought of waking up alone or worse, waking up with a baggage claim and little else to show for it. The mark of a coward. It didn't matter i was Don Quixote and this was a method of engagement. it didn't matter if i was right. that's what they all knew and that is what I aspired not to know. The moment I let go of youth is the moment of death so I kept on in bewilderment. I had at least this thing, this one thing, the connection to a planetary spew, a blog and a sense that I learned something between wanting a crystal and saving it. But i had no more time and I knew it. Despite this i spent many hours flipping through movie channels in the ninety degree heat and sipping on portuguese sparkling wine. I am a race horse heading for the triple crown. I am the dead.
Monday, June 9, 2008
Saturday, June 7, 2008
Thursday, June 5, 2008
axis, set list
“The Pleasure of My Axis Is You”
media: computer, projector, 2 screens 1 lcd and 1 for projection, table, speakers, electricity, mirror of equal size to projection (optional), you
2008
I often have found myself and my other speaking through text messages in short electronic bursts across physical and virtual space. The rhythm and cadence of our texts imply an emotional connection which I believed could be deciphered in their structure. I then simply removed myself and my other from the communication to see if the two machines could learn that cadence, find the appropriate words, and fall in love. Since the machines don’t have an emotional capacity they found “the pleasure of my axis is you” a phrase to subjugate the emotionally rich, “I love you.” With each attempt to complete this impossible task they trip the Universal Film Leader adorned in the Red and Violet of Love and Loyalty as a symbolic beginning built within a technological tradition.
This piece is a recorded attempt between two common machines to find love.
»‡«
“Artificial Standing Box”
media: 15 minute short film, vertical lcd screen, computer, speakers, constructed stand, music, electricity
2008
I envision this box as both my equal and my burden. The space it contains is the symbolic space from where I can reflect on my most intimate relationships. The physical weight and dimensions of the box while difficult are not prohibitive and here, move with me to a place that both literally and symbolically have been the center of great change.
Music from Virginal Coordinates by Eyvind Kang. “I am the dead.”
»‡«
“Glowbile” a construct
media: 3 deconstructed televisions, 3 or more DVD players, RCA connection cables, 1 set of television speakers for sound, 1 top of much used step ladder, copper or similar handle, nearby device remote controls, 3 DVDs, electricity
2007, 2008
media: computer, projector, 2 screens 1 lcd and 1 for projection, table, speakers, electricity, mirror of equal size to projection (optional), you
2008
I often have found myself and my other speaking through text messages in short electronic bursts across physical and virtual space. The rhythm and cadence of our texts imply an emotional connection which I believed could be deciphered in their structure. I then simply removed myself and my other from the communication to see if the two machines could learn that cadence, find the appropriate words, and fall in love. Since the machines don’t have an emotional capacity they found “the pleasure of my axis is you” a phrase to subjugate the emotionally rich, “I love you.” With each attempt to complete this impossible task they trip the Universal Film Leader adorned in the Red and Violet of Love and Loyalty as a symbolic beginning built within a technological tradition.
This piece is a recorded attempt between two common machines to find love.
»‡«
“Artificial Standing Box”
media: 15 minute short film, vertical lcd screen, computer, speakers, constructed stand, music, electricity
2008
I envision this box as both my equal and my burden. The space it contains is the symbolic space from where I can reflect on my most intimate relationships. The physical weight and dimensions of the box while difficult are not prohibitive and here, move with me to a place that both literally and symbolically have been the center of great change.
Music from Virginal Coordinates by Eyvind Kang. “I am the dead.”
»‡«
“Glowbile” a construct
media: 3 deconstructed televisions, 3 or more DVD players, RCA connection cables, 1 set of television speakers for sound, 1 top of much used step ladder, copper or similar handle, nearby device remote controls, 3 DVDs, electricity
2007, 2008
Pleasure and Plague
I'm working hard at this while recovering from a biblical plague. More about both in the coming days...
Contemporary Space presents
“The Pleasure of My Axis Is You” and other electronic media works.
by Daniel Cosentino.
Friday, June 6, 2008 from 5 – 11 pm
location
1115 East Main Street
Rochester, NY 14609
Door #7
3rd floor #311
»‡«
Contemporary Space presents
“The Pleasure of My Axis Is You” and other electronic media works.
by Daniel Cosentino.
Friday, June 6, 2008 from 5 – 11 pm
location
1115 East Main Street
Rochester, NY 14609
Door #7
3rd floor #311
»‡«
Tuesday, June 3, 2008
Waste Thick Earth
Friends and Alibis showed up at the lesion show with enough time for me to duck out back and walk slowly along the rails. I got something from that putrid soil and I didn’t have a real care if it ever moved me an inch because I moved it an inch. Looking around at the bomb of technology I felt good, like it was a good use of potential energy and when I opened up the book on how to celebrate all of my beauteous luxuries were no go – no pills, no booze, no smokes, no intensive 10K runs, no sex except for maybe whackin’ off to computer porn but even that was off limits from being put to the test. So I laid back, flipped thru the pod and listened to Darren Keen make some kind of sense of it. Some sense of life in the hipster flooded wasteland or really just the wasteland. I, for the first night in many, many nights had my mind back. I imagined it attacked by ruthless little ant-like creatures swarming my lobes of memory and pleasure and sense of stability and just nibbling away, as ants do, searching for the nesting grounds at the center until my own mindless little warriors found the key to choke ‘em out. In the aftermath, I am left to work it out, what memory remained and what memory was gone. I’d use the land and hunger which would be more reliable than friends, who each of which may have had the ants or worse, may have placed them in my ear to dig in. So I walked the tracks and felt for the hum of the coming loads and the sleek sizzle of the passenger trains looking for an honest ride across the waste thick earth.
Monday, June 2, 2008
Sunday, June 1, 2008
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