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Saturday, November 22, 2014


Had a nice long over due visit with the Art Forum writer and novelist Travis Jeppesen who I was surprised to learn is now 35 years old.  I’ve known Travis since he was a teenager writing me letters and sending me his self produced chapbooks.  We didn’t meet in the fleshy flesh till I moved to Berlin in 2006. Travis also relocated to Berlin that year from Prague.  Because of our letter writing exchanges over the years I felt like I had already known him forever so we easily floated into a nice comfort zone with each other.  This last year has been one of triumph and tragedy for Travis as he was singled out in the Whitney Biennial but also lost his best friend and muse Baby Brian Tennessee Claflin of Pork@Ficken3000.  Luckily Mr. Jeppesen has had several months of reflection and he seems to be ready to re-emerge cleansed from his mortal storms.  I was happy I was there to just provide a listening ear and broad ladylike shoulders for him to unleash a puddle of  tear ducting from his steel blue eyes.
Another blaster from the paster came in the form of Baby Diaper Joel Gibb of the indie rock Canadian band Hidden Cameras who I thought had decided to move back to  greater Canuckia.  Well the diaper is still in Berlin at least technically as he hasn’t given up his sumpteous Rixdorf flat, but plans to spend most of the harsh winter months in Los Angeles where his good pal and music supershtar Peaches already resides.  Well the handsome baby diaper was busy being all diapery with a plethora of steamy love affairs that included a romp with a mega hunky Canadian actor/supermodel and the well endowed German TV presenter from Celebrity Big brother Jochen Schropp among others all wrapped up in the house of the diaper.  Its hard to keep up with his sterling love life.
The young Spanish male Three Graces or  Escuelita’s as I like to call them invaded the London Broil Palast last weekend with their rock hard pectoral cavities, taunt stomachs and marble astrovars sending the place into a frazzled Alfred HitchCOCKian frenzy.  Usually these kind of men tend to cock block each other preventing their girlfriends from getting their proverbial gnut.  But wisely they would break rank when one or the other needed to satisfy a particular itchypoo.  Our crack celebutant voyeurist Itsy Molyneaux was on hand to document each encounter of this particular sex beat.  The most beautiful of the Spaniards took as his first temporary husband a tall salty dog of a teutonic with dinosaur genitalia.  Their marriage lasted less then five minutes as the second the older man gave him his first pelvic thrust, Miss Espana exploded in orgasmic couplets of much force and grandeur.  Before they began to fornicate though another less fortunate voyeur was caught peeking over the cabine walls and was sucker punched by crusty German.  Some convenient boiler pipes blocked Itsy from being discovered so she was able to watch the hunger games transaction unchallenged.  The other two ‘Lita’s got involved in a threegy with a Tom of Finland look and hung-a-like regular of the Palast. This particular man Itsy has seen for years stomping around  lust pavillions throughout the city state of Brandenbergertor.  You can tell that 20 years ago he was beyond compare in body, face and big dick arrogance.  He is still quite handsome, and muscular with a few layers of fat attached.  But the Esquelitas were only concerned with that formidable goucho groin and could sniff out a mighty morphin power ranger from a distance of a tri-state nucleii.  The two Spanish damsels were so greedy that they almost bit off the prized member of their conquest, maybe because of this action one of them was exiled.  The woman left was still fellating the sex giant with too much AustroHungarian aggression resorting to the man yelling, “take it easy” in English being their common language as the hulk was an ethnic Berliner.  After the German man had his fill of garden salad he was ready to mount the beauty and his mad skillz in this area were impressive.  He sent the youngwomanmanthingy into Judy Garlandlike histrionics as he bucked, moaned and grunted with schrill delight.  When the elder man was finished he removed his worn and dairy filled condiment delicately placing it in the trash receptacle like it was a totem item of significant religious worship and supplication.
Had a nice Sunday breakfast reunion with the underground film maestro Wilhelm Hein and his art photographer girlfriend Annette Frick.  We haven’t seen each since the Berlinale as both our schedules have been insane.  Wilhelm has had some major international successes at large venues like The Pompadoo in Paris and he will also be venturing to the States soon for a big end-of-the-year spectacular.  Both Wilhelm and I have had some trying bouts with illness and I hope he will be able to recouperate properly and get his old color back in his cheeks. We need our legends now more then ever.

Wednesday, November 19, 2014


Its impossible these days to sit quietly on a bench by yourself for a dissassociative contemplative moment without someone either coming up to you begging(even in Europe with more generous social services the safety net is crumbling) or prosyletizing.   A nicely dressed woman in her early 30s approached me about coming to a meeting for The Knowledge Book. This was a first.  Said Book of Knowledge or more likely Book of Shadows is the latest new agey religious text in popular circulatory demand, or at least that is what I gathered from the way this young lady spoke using phrases like  ‘ones energy and so forth. . . Hmmmm.  I calmly listened to her spiel then politely yet firmly declined the offer.
Met at Maxway Coffee at Winterfeldt Platz with the famous New York performer, sound artiste and slam poetry great Tracie Morris who also is a professor of Humanities and Media Studies at Pratt in Brooklyn.  We were introduced earlier in the year when I did a visiting artist at Pratt invited by Jennifer Miller of Cirkus Amok who also teaches at the art school.  Miss Tracie is beautiful with personality plus++++ and we had a wonderful time in girlish chitchat. I even learned a new phrase from Tracie---“jungle pneumonia” which is a more virulent strain of jungle fever affecting global dinge queens apparently. She will be in Europe till February mainly in London but is doing her Berlina sorjourner truth for the moment and having a delightful time enchanting everyone she meets.
I was in a great mood because the sun was out and I had a bit of goodies the night before from a young Norweigan fellow named Torvald ala the Ibsen play A Doll’s House who came over to visit me at the Cheese Endique Trifecta with my former Lund University/Malmo Art Academy student Stine Omar of the popular indie electro band Easter.  Androgynous Stine and her sexy beau Max Boss who went to the Universitaet Braunchsweig Art School studying under self absorbed Michael Brynntrup brought Torvald with them as he helps with their administrative duties as new wave rock stars.  My other young protoges Christophe DeRohan Chabot and Acme Singt also dropped by, but of course all of the kids had other places to run off to as the evening progressed and I was left with sweet Torvald and his sparkling green eyes and heaving pectoral cavity bairly contained in his jumper.  For some reason I decided to rename Torvald with the moniker Armor because he is built like a brick outhouse. After the others left we drank some Earl Grey tea when he just up and took off all of his very expensive sportclothes.  I believe in the motto good boys are naked boys created by my Afro Sister Urethra Franklin aka:  Helen Bed O’Neill of Retail Slut and figured it was my cue to lick the 19 year old Armor from head-to-toe. What else can I say / sweet smelling and tasting lad exceedingly succulent with tempting bulky fig eliciting positronic desiretics from elderly black ladykin wearing natty shawl.
On my way to luncheon & brainstorming Magic Flute session with CHEAP fearless leader Susanne Sachsse I ventured to Mitte’s  Kimmerich Gallery next to the Volksbuehne to catch the Mike Kutchar exhibition of his erotic well Hungarian drawings. Uli Ziemons who has written a new tome on George Kuchar had told me about the work, but I wasn’t prepared for such delirious sexual shenanigans featuring what Uli had described as horndoggy cavemen riding dinosaurs. There is much more to it all then that with plenty of rump, nip, feetsis, arse, throttlebottom and prodigious mutt.Those of you visiting Berlin this is a must see! And will be up until January 10th so make haste.
If the publishers of Stone Mattress the new Margaret Atwood book are reading this very blogina please send me a copy of her new tome and all of her books.  
I just finished reading John Irving’s In One Person that my lovesexy pal Nanna Heidenreich gave me and I adore the book which reminded me a bit of my very short period as a scholarship bleacher creature at the east coast prep school Choate in Wallingford Connecticut back in the 1970s.  I knew a boy just like the character Kittredge in the Irving book, though my dark haired cruel beauty was called Chessler.
O I forgot to mention when I was  on the train with Nanna on our way to the congress in Braunschweig, sitting across from us was the man and woman from the art collective Rimini Protokol – I can never remember their names and I didn’t recognize them---- they approached me.  Several years ago they took me to lunch along with their cute young male intern in an attempt to  woo me to be in one of their stage pieces which was Kleist’s Hermann’s Battle.  Mattias Lienthal of the HAU had felt that their work was getting stale and that maybe having me in one of their documentary  spectacles would liven things up.  Well at the time I was juggling teaching in London and several shows in England and Spain so I really couldn’t have committed to the project plus I wasn’t exactly captivated by their concept.  From things that I have heard about them in the international grapevine I think I made a wise choice not to work with them.
From a Bitte Midler distance in Nollendorky Platz I saw Cornell Collins one of the olde black lovers of my CHEAP kollektiv colleague Tim Blue who is now based in his birthtown of Portland, Oregon.  I  was riding my bicycle home from an early Sunday morning breakfast meeting with an American curator when I noticed Mr.Collins who lived in Los Angeles before coming to Berlin around 2009.  In Southern California he received some notice as a fledgeling fashion designer according to what my former Glue Magazine editrix Laurie Pike told me about him among other scurrilous accounts.  I had no idea he was still living in Berlin till seeing him walking hand-in-hand with what appeared to be his latest young victim. Lord love a duck.