The SsSsSound of DddDddread…or just Dinner?
How is it the kids say these days, “OMG”? Seriously, OMG, if I don’t getting going I will be certainly crushed. Let’s set the metaphoric scene: a grizzled Professor Indiana Jones is racing out of a dark and winding tunnel, chased by a momentous bolder that obviously has no qualms about smushing him flat. Miraculously, he evades the would-be bone-crusher, only to find himself frantically fleeing a band of arrow-launching and blow dart-blowing locals that may actually boil him for supper if their projectiles find the pale-skinned target. Nevermind Dr. Jones has just attempted to pilfer their sacred lands of invaluable treasure for the benefit of a greedy University, so you might not be that upset if he is turned into an entrée, but you have to admit, it is a very exciting escape. That is how we are beginning to feel here at the Artworks, as if we are running just steps ahead of an accelerating and uncompromising boulder, and if we can outrun that, a bunch of outraged hungry people. I pray we are not dinner.
Thusly confused, are you? MB. I will cut to the chase, no pun intended. Seriously. As some of you may have already heard, the Artworks is taking the show on the road, back to beautiful Brooklyn NY, to exhibit new work (New Work!) at a great place call The Arm Letterpress, 281 N. 7th St, between Meeker and Havermeyer. Williamsburg. Ooooooh. This event was originally planned for Springtime, but due to expediting circumstances the opening reception will be held December 1st.
So let’s just say that the big boulder is rolling up my ass and I am beginning to feel cooked. But never fear faithful followers, never fear Letterpress, we are getting are shit together and going to make this happen. I already came up with a title, a mysteriously cryptic little thing called, “SwingBoomHissFlush.” Who knows what it could mean? And who knows if I will come up with any art work that has any remote connection to these four words? Nevertheless we shall plow forward - I wouldn’t want to disappoint the locals, with their discerning eyes, territorial sensibilities, and fashionable blow darts. I have heard they are as hungry as ever.