2007-07-24T06:03:00.001-07:00

Here it is- the long awaited,
much anticipated, living up to every expectation and surpassing all previous predictions of blogger pleasure-
It’s the Photo-window Portrait Essay on Fleischman’s NY 12430.

2007-07-09T08:14:00.000-07:00

We left a friends house after an impromptu overnight stay- prompted by the fact we moved both our studios upstate and then hauled a ton of building shit debris, and I mean a ton- to the dump. We made it to the dump with moments to spare because we got behind a foursome of etiquette ridden Harley douche bags who slowed us down profoundly cause they had to peace sign all the other Harley douche bags coming the other way- I should note that we were in a uhaul that needed to be emptied before we returned or we were up shit’s creek…..…anyway we made it just in time and headed off to our friends relieved….
The next morning, after swimming with snapping turtles in the pond near our friends place we hit the road intending to get back in an hour or so- but stopped in Hudson, got suckered into a cute 1920’s German kitchen table and chairs……strapped it onto the top of the wimpy Honda hybrid (this will be important info later…) with the surfboards car straps we had in the trunk- (not the ones we have yet to mail you Capt.- other ones bought by our friend Sean while I was in SF printin…)
Hours behind our intended schedule, happily we hit the road…..again……..we had in mind a shortcut- take the dirt road we had heard about that wasn’t on the map that connects the two sides of Route 3 which are separated by Vly mountain which stands 3,529 feet and is only a couple of miles from home and save 40 minutes driving- in the hybrid with the shit strapped to the roof and chairs tied in the back of the open trunk……

I want to take an aside here and note that lately I have been feeling like I am actually not doing any of the shit I seam to be doing- but rather like the matrix I am floating in a gelatinous liquid inside a tube imagining it all- really –things seems to be strangely interconnected- and thus make too much sense- like maybe there aren’t really surfboards or fishing poles, fish or motorcycles, paintings or movies, their all just phantom characters in some pointless narrative in my submerged mind…..but lately the dog kept us up all night panting like mad terrified of a thunderstorm and I thought- “this has to be real- even my imagination couldn’t be so cruel…”

Back to route 3- we head up the minimum maintenance road clinching the steering wheel thinking- “Come on you badass rice burner- you can rock this hill!!”. Within a mile upwards the narrow road becomes more of a ravine- and I ignore gree c’s very god advice –to back down until we can turn around safely, instead I try to turn around and manage to wedge the car into the side of the road to the point of no return. Forced to abandon the car- we head back down the road with Buster- the dog with thunderfright- who is giving us the “what the fuck “ look…..towards the cracked out looking house we spotting on the incline that looked insane with like 5 different varieties of truck from the big and flat bed to the jeep like and rusted……..I decide this isn’t a house were someone lives- it’s the house associated with the very exciting signage we find on the fence- which says “Whispering Hills Horse Rescue”. Eventually though there can be no other assumptions than there is someone living in the house cause there are hosta’s and day lilies planted and a tree that’s been converted into a sculpture with the addition of an Oldsmobile logo and some cow skulls-so we approach the house to sudden chorus of dog barking- a lot of dog barking- we also note there are horses everywhere-and to the door comes the foxiest of dudes named Tom Hidaka- 1/2 Creek Indian http://www.creekindian.com/ who’s place is the Whispering Hills Horse Rescue and Rehabilitation. I swallow what ever pride I have left and explain the we have been over zealous and that our car’s up the hill stuck and can he offer any help…….he tried to contain the outward expression of the thoughts I am sure are running through his head- something about retarded city people trying to be all country…..and explains he doesn’t even drive his 4-wheel drive truck over that hill to the ditches he affectionately refers to as - “Thank you Mams” and finally agrees to drive up to where we are stuck to take a look. Luckily the prognosis isn’t so bad and within 5 minutes with one more body pushing we are free and dragging our sorry Asses back down the hill…

We stop back into the Whispering Hills Horse Rescue again to chat it up with Tom- who gets sweeter and foxier by the minute- he gives us a tour of the horses he’s rescued- of note there’s Spirit- a stallion that was ordered put down in Portland Maine because “He’s just a killer”-Tom shows us the scars from the first day he spent with Spirit- a very appropriate name I’d say- who took chunks outta Tom before they became “Buds”. He has 28 horses in all- and would take more if he “Had To” , 10 dogs and like 14 cats- many of whom he has performed a variety of successful home surgeries on….. He has rehabilitated many horses who were neglected and abused- really- the man could bring tears to the eyes- and from what he explained about the various kids with the various ladies, he has made his way into many a lady’s heart. He offered us a “cold Drink” so we went inside, had some Milwaukee’s Best and checked out his Sculptures- very elaborate assemblages of animal bones, skulls, and feathers woven into some badass dream catchers…
Anyway- there will be more to report- in thanks we are bringing him dinner tomorrow night…….

2007-07-03T14:49:00.000-07:00

Blog post one- greetings from the country!!!

To describe these pics:
The lure- a crazy blonde lady with a noir accent- she’s the one sure to end up dead though…thank god Phoenicia’s not a movie, looked like an insect shaped dildo a cat would use…. The fish- caught after that ever-present sentence- “OK we’ll leave after I caught one more” was 14 inches or so- 3 pounds and change- a black bass-
when we cleaned it it had that crustacean in its stomach WHOLE! That’s its stomach and guts next to the crayfish. Even though we are in the Jewish Catskills I’d say that fish wasn’t a Jew….
But he- there were no lady organs- was however-DELISH!!!!!!!!

Magalie bought an entire case of Vino Verte which rocks- and now…off to the drawing board…

What? The Monkey and Gandi Review