December 26, 2004
Woodpeckers at work on a Holiday. The beauty of a silent white surrounding them.
Hibernating waters and pink skies. As crisp as they can be, Quebec winters are nothing
short of magical.

December 25, 2004
Santa in my family believes that all homosexuals are child molesters.
I say Merry Christmas to ignorance!

December 19, 2004
Man of the Year 2004 by Time magazine: Bush
Man of the Year 1938 by Time magazine: Hitler

December 4, 2004
How different I become when I guard the firehouse! I listen to Erik Satie and
drink tea. I flip through Vuillard's book of paintings and believe that a good book
can be satisfying as my sole companion on a saturday night. Who am I kidding?
Comfort is as wonderful as it is dreadful.

December 3, 2004
When the blue of the night
Meets the gold of the day
Someone is waiting. Indeed.

November 14, 2004
It was a conspiracy. The mean kind. They all talked I'm sure and decided to leave me
here alone even though I had delights to share. One of them, the wild one, finally
broke free and joined me but it was too late, they had poisoned her and she fell asleep
as soon as she got here.

October 30, 2004
2004
Marlon Brando
Richard Avedon
Helmut Newton
Russ Meyer
Christopher Reeves
Johnny Cash
DeeDee Ramone

October 24, 2004
"Can you be mean?" the widower asked. "I mean, could you come over here and be so
detached emotionally that you'd be mean?"
"Yes. I think I can."
"Good. Now one more thing: could you overdress?"

October 18, 2004
Pacific Coast Highway in a green beetle. Pirate's Cove with its snorting seals doing headstands
and the fat nudists pretending to be Goldsworthy. Stinky hotsprings/Freezing Drive-in.
Nightmare involving evil baby-monkeys setting rooms on fire. Waking up from nightmare
to a giant black spider descending on my face from the ceiling.
West Coast Rain and Corned beef Sandwiches. Back to NY and Tears.

October 7, 2004
Won a residency award to go draw for a month on a cattle ranch in Wyoming. The kind
of place where you need to walk three quarters of a mile to get cell phone reception– in
January!

October 4, 2004
My self-inflicted crush has cancer. Why do I feel like I could leave everything
and take care of him? Damn me for being a woman!

September 18, 2004
Birthday party for SuperFrank (wearing a cape to prove it) who is signing Watson
to his publishing label (and I love him for it). I missed James Brown by a minute (!).

September 17, 2004
Opening of "Tits&Art IV" at GV/AS. I had surprise visitors like NatDaoust and Watson
and cie. Even The Pelican was there. My blue dress turned me into a flirt and it was fun.

September 11, 2004
What an adventure that was... I got him out but it took two neighbors!

September 10, 2004
"Surf Safely!", is what my problematic/alcoholic new roommate said out loud to
himself in the middle of the night as he crashed into his third wall on his short way to
the bathroom. I haven't slept in a week.

September 9, 2004
I finally got to cross the bridge with two of my drawings being shown at Monya Rowe
gallery in Chelsea. It felt as if I was having an illicit affair, how strange...

August 22, 2004
"Macaulay Caulkin is a great actor!"
"What? What are you talking about? He's done about 4 movies in 20 years and 3 of
those were basically the same thing. You can't judge someone's skills from that."
"So did James Dean."
"Jesus, how can you compare Caulkin to Dean? That's sinful!"
"Why not? What's wrong with that? I think you're just being snobbish. Artsy-Fartsy."
"I didn't go to art school!"
"You can't appreciate Caulkin coz he's too American for you. Plus, you don't like to
be challenged. That's it, you just hate to be challenged!"

August 7, 2004
Connecticut. I was assigned an all-purple room attached to a private gym and fed
a $10 mushroom as appetizer. I swam all day in a gorgeous pool and walked through
the gardens sipping wine. I felt completely out of place and loved every minute of it!

August 1, 2004
Bibbe Hansen (Beck's mother!) wrote saying that the room I have to rent sounds
interesting and wanted more info. Bizarre. I replied that she was probably more
interesting than what I have to offer. What is she thinking? And why didn't I say yes
right away?

July 27, 2004
My first studio visit from an art dealer. As soon as she left, I ran next door and
pounded a drink. No wonder so many artists have "alcohol problem"...

July 12, 2004
Unconnected and empty. I gave nothing of myself and received nothing in return.

July 8, 2004
Montreal. I am lying on a trampoline awkwardly situated in an abandoned church.
Watson is singing in a imaginary language. It's so beautiful.

June 27, 2004
On the last day of my show, two drawings are sold. It's the most money I ever made from
my art. And what a great feeling it is to have a part of me (the best part– the creative
part) be sharing a stranger's life forever...

June 23, 2004
True Till Death

June 18, 2004
Run! Run! Run! Run!
(I've cut my hair twice already)

June 13, 2004
I feel it. It's foreign and it's attached to an organ inside my belly. But I can't tell which
one. Oh God.

June 12, 2004
Bottle Beach. The shore is dressed in broken glass and the waves sound like bells.
We surprised a hundred horseshoe crabs coming out from the sea to fuck at exactly
5 PM.
And there's a pound of sand in my hair from making out.

June 11, 2004
Opening of my show The Devil In Me. The space looks good, I'm happy I pulled it off.
And although I originally felt awkward to be presenting my work in my own goddamn
gallery, I realized tonight that GV/AS is exactly where I wanted to see my ink babies up.
They belong here. It was a great night but, of course, I suffered emotional exhaustion
from too much attention and ex/lovers showing up–or not. I got so many flowers
I felt like a dead artist!

June 6, 2004
It's a Canadian Invasion; Watson (and band) as well as Brigitte and CatCedilot are in
the city. For three nights in a row, I had my mind blown away by Watson's stage presence
and talent. It's good to see real musicians play as opposed to machines and poseurs.
I had so much fun with them that I easily gave up the idea of making extra drawings
for my show. I needed a fix of that unconditional love we seem to have for one another,
and I got it good!

May 23, 2004
He looks like my Dad as a young man, which is a little creepy I know. He's more of a
man than I am a woman, with his wife-beater and chest hair, but his stare was enthralling
and I followed him into our first unofficial date: a midnight drive to HomeDepot.

May 21, 2004
A bird pecking at a worm devouring a very similar but dead bird. A disturbing vision for
a mere human like myself. It's amazing how poorly we, the most "intelligent" specie, agree
with Nature...

May 15, 2004
The sky knew exactly how I felt as I walked home from a truly pleasant dinner with
the last man who dared to love me and his newly pregnant wife. It cracked open
and poured.

May 7, 2004
Dufresne's show at GV/AS. I feel honored to be presenting her work. And lucky to be
counted as one of her friends. It's all good.

May 2, 2004
I remember. He doesn't.
And I woke up with this song in my head:

Ah we're lonely, we're romantic
and the cider's laced with acid
[...]
So we struggle and we stagger
down the snakes and up the ladder
to the tower where the blessed hours chime
and I swear it happened just like this:
a sigh, a cry, a hungry kiss
the Gates of Love they budged an inch
I can't say much has happened since
but CLOSING TIME

And I loved you when our love was blessed
and I love you now there's nothing left
but sorrow and a sense of overtime
and I missed you since the place got wrecked
And I just don't care what happens next
looks like freedom but it feels like death
it's something in between, I guess. (L.Cohen)

April 3, 2004
I don't do well without passion. I don't do well at all. I feel dead, my insides are still.
And there are nights like tonight where it is necessary for me to provoke the trembling–
at any mental cost. I'll reach out in my past and read old letters, or make a call to an
ex-lover. When memory fails to arouse, I'll choose fantasy, which I did tonight, and
watch a movie with a character I can fall in love with. Like Damage by Louis Malle
because Jeremy Irons does something for me no other actors can, especially in that
role. It worked, and now I just won't fall asleep.

March 27, 2004
Last night was the opening of "I, Zombie". Weaver had some of his girlie fanclub
showing up with blood dripping from the corner of their mouths. Tapola had his wife
get real drunk. After having him around for the past week, saying goodbye was a drag.
I could very well use a more regular dose of him– but that would be dangerous.

March 19, 2004
The arrival of Tapola from Minnesota to prepare for the "I, Zombie" show.
He's more impressive in real life than he is with his witty virtual communications. He's
curious and interested, as well as funny, humble and generous (all that from a first
meeting!). Weaver, him and I had a great dinner at Dumont and more drinks afterwards.
We laughed about the fact that I had pictured him to be fat!

March 6, 2004
Peggy is still turning him on (Magalie I'm not so sure but Peggy definitely is) and an
afternoon rendez-vous, under the pseudonym "studio visit", will most probably end in the
adjacent bedroom. She likes it when they lay there, in sore nakedness, and discuss the
tension of colors. It's sexy.

March 2, 2004
(Well, maybe half a song.)

March 1, 2004
Spring is twenty days early and, as if the Concept of Sin was irrelevant under these
circumstances, I find myself in the dusty basement of a record shop, making out with
The Devil. Now there's something to write a song about.

February 25, 2004
The Pelican has fallen for another bird. Fall away, my love, fly away.

February 18, 2004
"Just cause we rock, doesn't mean we're made of stone", Sarah says.

February 14, 2004
My Valentine this year was a 20 year-old gay boy who's recently heartbroken. We
drank together and he bought me an ice bucket. I should be the one crying.

February 13, 2004
Barcelowsky's show at GV/AS. It looks great now that the two-days-long/hair-pulling/
whiskey-drenched/fun-raising hanging is over. Her work (and her self) is exactly what
I needed to be excited about the gallery again–unpretentious, completely wacko,
beautifully naive, and reasonably priced. It's her last night in NYC (She's Moving
West for Love) so the place is packed. I got drunk and foolishly tried to get a lil' lovin'
of my own. You can't blame me for trying.

At the end of the night, we had sold close to $2000. Diane has since decided to
leave all her drawings with me and I promised to take up the role of dealer seriously (?).

February 7, 2004
Was woken up at 2AM last night by a text message from my AT&T customer care
representative (?!) saying he had given me an extra $100 credit on my bill. Just like
that. He also gave me his personal email address.

January 31, 2004
After much brainstorming, we found a character name for him–The Humper (with
capitals)– but neglected to add another episode to the story. Damn.

January 28, 2004
My funny little trip to Boston/Provincetown was most inspiring. I understand now that
the best way to enjoy living in NYC is to find means to get out of it as much as possible.
It was great to hang out at the Fine Arts Work Center, and be surrounded by committed
and productive artists. And although I hate "group therapies", the first thing I did when I
got home was to put my application together for next year's residency program.

January 26, 2004
Dinner at the Squealing Pig in Provincetown. We watched Olivia Newtown-John on a
giant screen in the company of bearded lesbians.
Monkey got drunk quickly and said: "Everything would be different between us, if only
I was Charlotte Rampling". Charlotte Rampling???

January 22, 2004
Today is the beginning of the Year of the Monkey. And I'm going to see my favorite
one this weekend!

January 18, 2004
I've got no goddamn morals. What a shame...

January 14, 2004
The Pelican's gift: his ability to rescue me from these black corners I have in my head.
His superpowers: availability (when in town, of course), proneness to sweetdecadence
(even on wednesday afternoons), humor (i.e.: not taking neurosis too seriously) and
the fact that he fucking cares.

January 12, 2004
It doesn't matter how many times I see The Piano Teacher (M. Haneke), I always feel
the same way about it as I did the first time ––and what a first time that was!!! It makes
the hair on my arms raise up.

January 11, 2004
Oups, I broke my resolution already... This ain't gonna be easy, I am weak!

January 2, 2004
I got a pink telephone lamp for Xmas, one of Matt Faulkner's little wonders.
The number is 612 920 3888.

January 1, 2004
New Year resolution: to give only to those who deserve to receive.

December 23, 2004
How can one calls two different cities 'home'?

December 19, 2003
"My husband is in the music industry. He has a cold sore. I said to him: "I love you
honey, but you are not to be seen in public tonight"."

December 5, 2003
Tonight is the opening of Huey's show "Rabbit Season" at GV/AS. There's
a big snow storm outside. And the building's boiler is out of oil. Great.

I thought of canceling it a million times, and not just because of the storm. In fact, I
often think about canceling the entire gallery project. Lately, I've had problems working
with almost every single artists I've shown, and it breaks my heart each time. I can't
seem to get them to respect my schedule; I end up having to jeopardize my personal life
(I don't have much of one but they don't know that– or do they?) and feeling like I'm not
taken seriously. I don't know when to put my foot down or when to stay cool. Which
decision/responsibility belongs to the director, which belongs to the artist?

It's hard to figure out the exact direction I wish for the gallery to take. Sometimes,
it's after a show (or a piece) is up that I realize I don't want to show it, which is truly
unfair for everybody– the artist, the viewer and me. This show, even though I honestly
think looks great, makes me feel like I run a Chelsea gallery and I don't like that. How
was I to know I would feel this way? I must admit: I don't have a goddamn clue about
art (or business for that matter) and working from gut feeling is one way to do it, sure,
but it leaves room for a thousand mistakes. Aaarrrgghhhh!

December 4, 2003
Devil or Angel, I can't make up my mind.
Devil or Angel, why are you still so hard to find?

November 27, 2003
Cranberry sauce, red wine from Argentina, French films. And a worrisome fondness
for solitude. I'm too young for solitude. I'm also too young to use the word fondness.

November 21, 2003
I got it! I fucking got it!!!
After 3 1/2 years of wondering/wandering, I am finally granted some peace of mind.
For now on, call me Magaleegal, ha!

November 19, 2003
My Dad has always been very money oriented. He's a rich wannabe, you know, the
type to hang out at the golf course to meet wealthy people. Obviously, since I
live in a store front, I have a freelancing job, and I don't drive a Jaguar, I'm a bit of a
failure to him. I played a game the other day and told him I have a 'millionaire' friend
and that she lives in my dream apartment:
"A penthouse?"
"No Dad, not a penthouse. But she has the top floor of a fire house, it's beautiful."
"Oh. Then why don't you move in with her?"
"What do you mean 'why don't I move in with her'? Why the fuck would she want to
live with me for?"
"I don't know, maybe you could offer to clean her house. No?"

That's how much respect my Dad has for me. "Anyway, hang on to her.", he said.

November 18, 2003
95% of 8000 people voted that gay marriage should be ILLEGAL.
And Mickey Mouse turned 75.

November 15, 2003
Mirror Mirror at CBGB's for the second to last of Homocorps. It didn't go so well for
them because they were on at 8:30pm, when there was only about 15 people in the place.
David is a little shy in his interaction with the audience, so that didn't help. And they were
followed by Pink Steel, who's all about crowd entertainment if nothing else. Then it was
Split Me Wide Open: somewhat good music/act, but again, nothing new...

"I wonder what Johnny Rotten would think if he was here tonight.", I said to Witty Julie.
"I wonder what PeeWee Hermann would say!", she replied. We cracked up.

November 4, 2003
Interview with an 'Artist'...
"Do you have fun drawing?"
"I don't know if I can call it fun. I mean, it's not like when I was doing a photo shoot; you
know, there's no adrenaline rush or anything like that. But I certainly like it more than
watching TV"(?)

November 2, 2003
11:11AM, received this email:
Subject: A note from Richard...
Hi - I'm a successful, handsome, married man in my late 30s. I'm looking for a young
woman that needs financial assistance while pursuing her education or career goals.
You should be 20 to 35 and have a great body that you love to show off. No pictures
or sex required. Interested?

October 31, 2003
Wasn't too much in the mood for Halloween but ended up dressed as a 45 year-old
Space Invader Divorcee (a what?) and went to see my new favorite band: my roommate's
Mirror Mirror. He was the cutest of all, dressed as a bloody bull (there's corn syrup all
over the bathroom floor!) while bass player Ryan was his Matador. The party was
hosted by K48 and sucked so we moved on to Ken Weaver's birthday bash in Bushwick
where his Growler, and The Psychos, along with a beautiful trapeze act, went wild. It
was a stimulating night but somehow, and this is freaking me out, I did feel like a
45 year-old divorcee for real...

October 27, 2003
The medium was chosen for me. It could have been melodies, or words perhaps, but
nooooo, I was allowed images only. And now that I'm at lost, that I feel unfulfilled by
it, resentment is creeping in.
I can't figure out what I am meant to do. Or who I really am. I can't seem to reach–– I
cannot seem to reach. Perhaps, and this is my greatest fear, the answer is simply nothing.

(See what happens after I watch a documentary about an accomplished artist?)

October 24, 2003
Heaven @ GV/AS. What a strange show! Because the gallery is dressed as an apartment,
people are either too shy to cross the door mat or they're a little too comfortable and walk
in with party-size bags of chips, sit on the couch and watch TV!

The night falls and I am overcome by the most intense feeling of loneliness. I guess it
has something to do with my private space being consequently invaded-deserted
and The Pelican still flying around, pecking at my fruit. It's over now, it's over...

October 19, 2003
The Pelican's art show. The place was filled with mistresses of his. The ravaged-looking
bartender in cheap bondage gear, the young blond who can't leave his cock alone, the
painter born on the same day, same hospital as him... And I, playing the role of the
wife, having picked out his clothes for the night. I went home early and left him to shine,
as the Artstar he wishes to be.

October 17, 2003
"Stick with me kid, you'll go places."

October 12, 2003
Real birth date. I am thirty years old. The Pelican made sure I felt like a Queen all day
and we spent most of the afternoon in bed, drinking Whiskey. It doesn't get much better
than that.

October 10, 2003
GV/AS hosted my birthday party. It was an improvised art opening with previously
shown artists and friends bringing artwork as gifts. Some of the pieces created a
stronger reaction, like Robinson's life-size naked portrait of me, which he unrolled
publicly despite my heart condition...
The evening was overwhelming, and I got too drunk, but it was the perfect birthday
party. Oh yeah, and I got a new pair of red Converse so as to keep doing my drawings!

September 28, 2003
(Saltz & Smith finally came to the gallery.)

September 22, 2003
Left a trail of unwanted (unattended) body fluids down on Sixth Ave.

September 21, 2003
"Hello? Is this the museum?"
"The gallery, you mean? Yes it is."
"I was wondering, would it be possible for a nudist to visit your gallery?"
"Do you mean to visit AS a nudist?"
"Yes."
"No, it's not possible. I'm sorry."
"Oh. Not even during off-hours?"

September 20, 2003
Crush of The Day: Chester.
An Ed Harris look-alike with a bit more hair, but not much, wearing Red Chucks
(that did it!) and dirty jeans.
He sat outside, at the bar next door, ordered a whisky (3pm) as well as a coffee (3pm)
and wrote in his Moleskine note book. I was in front of the gallery with a book. Eye contact
was made (I was wearing a skirt) and I felt a tingling sensation creeping up my legs. I
couldn't read. I had this urge to ask, jokingly, if he wanted to leave everything and go get
married right now. That's how easy it felt, at first.
Then he pulled the "What are you reading?" pickup line, which was fine but only because
he is a writer. "Mary Gaitskill", I replied, "I'm on my second book of hers in three days.
I find her really observant of the complexity of human relationships." (My God...)
We talked some more. There was an obvious effort to connect but we couldn't find a
common ground. After challenging me on the title "Tits&Art" ("It sounds funny to me,
that's all. But I'm French-Canadian."), he came in the gallery and attempted to escape
before commenting on the show. "It's interesting...", is all he said. I knew then, that he had
given up. A sexy older man though. Humans would be better off with mating
sounds coming out of their mouth instead of words. Really.

September 18, 2003
"Entice: to attract artfully or adroitly or by arousing hope or desire."
I like that, baby. Very much. It's the prettiest word you've said to me.
Tonight, I bathe in calm while the storm rocks the outside of me. I can still hear
the clinking sound your teeth make when you flirt with me.

September 16, 2003
Je changerais d'avis et je me dirais que jusqu'a toi, je m'etais trompee.
(I would change my mind and tell myself that until you I was all wrong)

Francoise Hardy is too much! "Et tant pis si c'est fou!", qu'elle dit aussi.

September 13, 2003
Nat Finkelstein (Warhol photographer) showed up at the gallery with his very young
(and very busty) wife. He looked like an old sailor. Said if I ever wanted to make some
money, I should show his pictures of Edie Sedgwick. Alright man.

September 12, 2003
"To a certain extent, we all feel like we're children living adult lives, and we can't really
figure when we're going to get unmasked." (M.Ross).
Tits&Art 3 was a success. The most people. But nothing funny happened.

September 5, 2003
I found a Jack Of Hearts in the drawer of my bedside table. Hmmm...

September 2, 2003
Exonerate: to unburden. That's my new word. I like that word.

August 27, 2003
Just got back from Pittsburgh where I have been, for four days, playing boyfriend/girlfriend
games with The Pelican. A little freaky but sweet as hell at the same time. Imaginary
gallbladder stones led to a hot-hot mint leaves massage and Grandma's medication
produced a scary drawing. I could (should?) have stayed longer...

August 14, 2003
Living through an historic moment once again as the biggest blackout in US history hits
New York. It took me over two hours to walk across the Williamsburg bridge from Chelsea
to Greenpoint. I felt lucky to be young and somewhat in good shape as I saw elderly
and overweight people passed out from the heat. Acidic Jews were giving (!)
water on the Brooklyn side and His-panic kids proudly took turns directing traffic.
It was creepy to walk around Brooklyn in complete darkness. I had images in my
head of the 80's movie "Blackout in New York" I saw as a kid. Riots and
Rapes. But I got home to my beloved 'hood with nothing more than sore feet.

August 9, 2003
She laid on the couch, playing back the details of a sexy night, a few days ago, when
he forced himself upon her on this very same spot. The bruises on the inside of her
thighs were still visible; they had turned brownish-yellow. It had happened so fast!
And now, in a half-dreamy state, she wished he would appear and do it all over again.

A knock at the door shook her off Fantasy world. She opened it to find him standing
there with food in his hands, waiting to be let in. And, as if he knew exactly
what she had been thinking of, he said: "Now take your clothes off".

August 4, 2003
House disaster. Because of a single beer can caught in a drain, 300 gallons of water fell
from the ceiling of my bedroom. Some books ruined, most drawings saved. But I almost
died of electrocution, a metal ladder fell on my head and I slapped my helper (a stranger
found drinking at the bar next door) for screaming in my hear while calling the fire department,
who, by the way, never showed up.

August 3, 2003
Alon's wedding in the Hamptons with Jack The Pelican as my one-time (?) date.
I feel terribly unfaithful (?) to Matt for being at someone else's wedding and not his.

August 1, 2003
Terry died again!!! What's wrong with him???

July 31, 2003
Sarah baby, let's get together now. I promise I'll find a car...

July 29, 2003
Overheard a fight between two homeless drunks: "He didn't say he threw it in the
can, you fuck, he said he threw it in the GARBAGE can!"

July 27, 2003
Closing day of Summer's Eve. 5 sales total. I'll miss that show.
I took Jackson out for dinner to thank him for buying three pieces but it turned out
to be much more personal than professional... We had a great time.

July 26, 2003
Watched Who's afraid of Virginia Woolf. Jesus...

July 25, 2003
Terry wasn't dead after all. In fact, he's more alive now than he was before!
He took me away from Monster City, to where you smell trees. I got to see his
giant studio, his fat cats and pictures of his 1978 defunct wedding (which I took
back with me to make a drawing). Although I had to get up at 5am with him and
was stuck on a bridge for an hour, inhaling nasty car fumes, it felt like a vacation
and I NEEDED IT!

July 23, 2003
There's a fly invasion in my house, no kidding, it's like a Hitchcock movie set in
here! I'm on my 109th kill as it is.

July 22, 2003
"Il pleut il mouille, c'est la fete a la grenouille, quand il pleuvra pu ca s'ra la fete
a la tortue..."
Every single time it rains, if I'm walking outside, I can't help but humming this childish
song. It's the only one I have left.

July 21, 2003
All work and no play makes Maggy a dull girl...

July 19, 2003
3 year anniversary of my platonic affair with The Monster. This means a lot to me.

July 17, 2003
FUCKHIVFUCKITRIGHTUPITSOWNGODDAMNUNFAIRASSANDTHEN
FUCKITSMOTHERTOO.
(This is stupid. I'm not feeling any better.)

July 16, 2003
Just finished reading "In Cold Blood" (T.Capote). It threw me right back in time!
Back in criminology school! Denis, where are you???

July 15, 2003
The cruelty of life. One tragedy after another, happening to friends I love dearly.
I am weakened by the sadness, mine as well as theirs. And deep down inside, I know
this is just the beginning; the beginning of much suffering, for I am so very young.

July 12, 2003
Post-show depression. Dragging PMS. Full moon.
Thinking of the Devil. And how pretty his wife is...

July 11, 2003
"Summer's Eve" @ GV/AS.
A good-looking show. Probably my favorite so far.
The crowd hangs out outside for it is hot under the gallery lights. There's more
hipsters than art lovers which bothers me. But three pieces are sold, all of them
to Jackson (whom I hadn't seen in a few weeks), which makes me a little
uncomfortable. Another uncomfortable thing is the fact that people don't realize
it's not really me in the work that I'm presenting (the porn self-portraits) and I get
weird looks.
As usual, I'm too exhausted to accept any invitation to party afterwards and
just go to bed.

July 8, 2003
Went to Patti Smith's outdoor show at the World Financial Center. Aaarrrghhhhhh!!!!

July 7, 2003
Went to Wes' studio to see his new work: a series of disfigured self-portraits
based on died-young legends. It's his best, most personal work so far.
Every Day Is Like Sunday was playing in the background.
Over and over again. Or so it seemed.
We are becoming closer. Or maybe not.

July 6, 2003
He says he thinks about the "mingled sweat and steam" of one particularly
delicious evening last summer. I do too.

June 29, 2003
How many times can one single goddamned mosquito bite you? Don't they ever
get full?

June 22, 2003
I'm being punished, I know I am. Because I refused to become the therapist
I was meant to be, I'm given men who can't talk. Fuck.

June 18, 2003
Someone once said to me: "Don't discard emotionally crippled people or you'll
become one." I didn't listen.

June 15, 2003
"How did you guys hook up?"
"She attacked me in the car.", he quickly answered.
"That's not true! I didn't attack him, he took his seat belt off!"

June 13, 2003
Growler at Luxx. The more cord he gets, the further away from the stage he sings.
I wonder if this could be a metaphor.

June 10, 2003
It was another lovely evening with Jackson. I ate duck in lighting so dim that I couldn't
tell apart the meat from the fat.
I tried to sleep over at his house, I really did, but I gave up at 4h30AM and asked for
a cab home. What's wrong with me?

June 7, 2003
Terry died today.

May 30, 2003
Opening of Asente's show at GV/AS. It was a great turnout for a solo show.
People were joyous and hung around for quite a while.We sold 4 pieces!!!
The artist got really drunk, just the way it should be.

I. S. signed the guest book and drew a little heart on his name. I got a 5th Grader
kick out of it and it didn't cross my mind that it might have been for the artist...

May 23, 2003
Dream: I run into Celine Dion in the LTrain. As we laugh about how close to each other
we grew up, she sees my teeth and feels sorry for me. She reminds me of the days, when
she sang "Une Colombe" in front of the Pope, and also had
bad teeth, way before Rene fixed her up. So as she exists the train, she hands me her
credit card with a wink and make me promise to hang out soon.

May 21, 2003
Dream: At a Patti Smith concert. I'm so excited to be there and sing so loud to all the
songs that Patti asks for me to be escorted out! That's embarrassing.

May 20, 2003
No dates for me this week, I am completely kissed-out.

May 18, 2003
Angela Dufresne is one cool-ass chick, and an amazing artist.
We hung out tonight, and beside drinking Budweiser and talking dirty, I got to see
some of her videos. She told me the story about filming the sex scene in the
Bruce Lee piece in a Greenpoint backyard and having the cops called on them, haha!

May 17, 2003
Jackson poses again, this time as a gay Picasso!

May 15, 2003
Terry took me out for dinner. I ordered Red Snapper, he ordered Bass. He said I remind
him of his ex-wife. He also said he will buy me new shoes.

May 10, 2003
The Devil came by the gallery today. He shoved his tongue in my mouth and an index
in my ear. But he looked so good...

May 3, 2003
Dinner, art opening and then to Jackson's place where he was to model for me. I'm
nervous, at first, since I'm about to expose my young talent to a great painter.
But then I see this fabulous gold-trimmed tuxedo hanging on his wall and everything
suddenly feels right. He indulges at my request for him to wear it without any pants
on and strikes a pose. The drawing turns out mysteriously creepy. I am overjoyed with
the results and he gets rewarded accordingly...

We end the night in a Greenpoint dive where 300-pound men sit at the bar with their
underage boy-toys (whom, I suspect, are "courtesy of the establishment"). My date
performs in a nasty bar-joke match with the niece of the owner (herself a few pounds
short of 300) and I stare at a lonely, and completely plastered, middle-aged lady
playing air-drums to Metallica!

I am driven home, no questions asked, where I quickly fall asleep, grinning about
how beautifully surreal this entire evening was.

May 1, 2003
Tonight, I was wined, dinned and then fondled in each and every one of the Sopranos
bedrooms! (The young girl's room and the 60's basement were my favorites.)

"I am old", Terry said.
You can't be that old, if you still allow yourself to play the way you do.

April 29, 2003
"What do you have to do at work today?", I asked, staring down at my morning
coffee.
"I have to get the house ready. It's the man's 60th birthday coming up soon;
he's throwing a huge black tie party", Jackson replied.
"Oh, will you take me? I'd love to go to a millionaire's party! I could wear
high heels!"
"Sorry baby, but I've already promised the maid I'd go with her."
Haha! I love it!

April 27, 2003
I fucked Jack Nicholson in my dreams last night (the fat/balding Jack; not the
young/sexy one). I remember him having a big addiction problem to pills, he could
barely do it. We had decided to be in a 'relationship' so I had to tell him I was still
seeing this other man sometimes but that it wasn't going anywhere."That's okay,
he said, I still see Lara (Flynn Boyle) in the weekends." Well then...

April 25, 2003
Opening of "Clean, it just looks dirty" @ GV/AS.
It's a very different show compare to all previous ones. I can't clearly seize up if the
crowd likes it or not. But there is a crowd.
And there's also a dramatic moment with the most famous of the artists. She cries.
Bradley has to put up three more of her paintings in the middle of the reception,
knocking down The Moroccans in the process!
All ends well, thanks to Bradley's sense of humor.

April 22, 2003
Last night I played a funny role: a 16 year-old ghetto version of Peggy Guggenheim

Jackson (Pollock) dropped off slides at the gallery and then took her out for some
beers (in this scenario, he's the one with money). After a few of them, they
ended up on the back seat of his car (that's the 16 year-old part), fogging up the
windows (that's the ghetto part!).

"You're a lot sexier than Peggy", he said.

April 14, 2003
"No, the promises of this sky, of these lights cannot be fulfilled anywhere; nothing
exists in complete harmony with the splendor of these nights. The plenitude I dream
of, which would take me out of myself, will never be more than a phantom. I will never
be promised anything but myself, and this is nothing if I make nothing of myself. The
night is merely a setting; if I try to seize it, to make substance of the moments I'm
living, it dissolves in my hands. Something has to happen to me––something real––
and the rest will follow in abundance."–– Simone de Beauvoir.

April 9, 2003
After sending the elephant postcard, GV/AS receives its first fan mail. That feels good!

April 6, 2003
I can deal with having no money
(I've learned to make a great soup with two potatoes and an onion)
I can deal with having no sex (self-loving is an easy option)
But being cold in my house in April, having to sleep with a hood on and a scarf
wrapped around my neck, that's when I question every damn choices I've ever made
in my life.

April 5, 2003
I rest happy, but very drunk, my friendship with my special Rodney is saved by
Brandy. A stupid misunderstanding involving a Vietnamese guest and his yearning
to fuck a Western girl almost damaged it.

March 29, 2003
I don't believe I've ever been courted. Or maybe I was once, decades ago, by
this man who was a patient of the mental hospital located across the street from
where I worked.

Courtship: A performance. Obsessive and imaginative. A display of one's frivolous
feelings (and I do mean frivolous, since the feelings are used as a reason to perform)
with a touch of humor and vulnerability.

March 21, 2003
We began with the birth of Spring.
A full cycle later, I am still craving.

March 14, 2003
Watson and Henry are in the city from Montreal. It's good to have them around. There
are a few openings in Williamsburg tonight, we plan to meet there.
First, to Sideshow where Maritta exhibits solo. I like her paintings–– silver, black, gold,
abstract and obsessive. She is an interesting looking woman, in her early fifties
I would say, from Finland living in Vietnam. Bright orange hair. Big round blue eyes. She
sounds like a little animal with bizarre noises coming out of her mouth.
Rodney tells me she's crazy; or wild, depending on your take on the subject. I am
strangely attracted to her. I stare. I ask Rodney if she's married and he answers:
"No, no. Nobody could handle her. She's kinda like you in a way, her personality too
intimidating for relationships". Pfff...

March 11, 2003
Henry Miller. Henry!
"...O Tania, where is that warm cunt of yours, those fat, heavy garters, those soft, bulging thighs?
There is a bone in my prick six inches long. I will ream out every wrinkle in your cunt, Tania, big
with seed. I will send you home to your Sylvester with an ache in your belly and your womb
turned inside out. Your Sylvester! Yes, he knows how to build a fire, but I know how to inflame
a cunt. I shoot hot bolts into you, Tania, I make your ovaries incandescent. Your Sylvester is a little
jealous now? He feels something, does he? He feels the remnants of my big prick. I have set
the shores a little wider, I have ironed out the wrinkles. After me you can take on stallions, bulls,
rams, drakes, St. Bernards. You can stuff toads, bats, lizards up your rectum. [...] I am fucking
you, Tania, so that you'll stay fucked. [...] I will bite into your clitoris and spit out two franc
pieces..."

March 8, 2003
I have a morning routine, a favorite coffee mug and a preferred fork...
Am I old, already?

February 28, 2003
It's the first year anniversary of The Antagonist's art series at Niagara tonight.There's
a lot of artists and most of the work is good or at least fun. Unfortunately, my Mickey
painting is hung so low, it'll probably get kicked. Maybe for the best.

It was Lenny Kaye's first art show. He exhibited a beautiful photograph of William S.
Borroughs and priced it at $75!!! Needless to say it was sold in about 5 minutes.
"Wow, that's great, I paid $9 for the frame at K-Mart, that means I made $66 tonight!",
he says. Cutie...

And I, I sold kisses (a lot of them) to the Devil for the price of two Whiskeys and a beer.

February 23, 2003
Excellent movie: "Scenes from a Marriage", Ingar Bergman, 1973

February 16, 2003
I couldn't. I just couldn't, my foot was caught in a plastic bag...

February 15, 2003
TheHoleTheHoleTheHole
The hollow hole of women.

February 14, 2003
Dalida, my Valentine, it is so cold!

January 31, 2003
"Why don't you trust me? Do you think I would have made you come all this way
for nothing?"

January 30, 2003
Perched on a stool. Like a prey, waiting for her dator.
In Black, and a little bit of White, I look for traces of you.
Nothing.
Pounding.
You could walk in here any minute now.
(Okay I'll have another Whiskey Sour)
You could take the night away from me.

January 21, 2003
"A la distance où je suis de vous, de même qu'à celle dont vous êtes les uns des autres,
toute existence apparait sans aucune espèce d'importance, sans aucune raison d'être
d'aucune espêce"-Marguerite Duras

January 18, 2003
I sell French Kisses for $5 a piece.

January 12, 2003
Did I say I was ready to receive whatever is meant for me to have in the new year?
I guess when you say that, you really mean only the good things... My life has taken
quite an unexpected turn. I wasn't ready at all.

I was feeling sorry for myself the other day while conversing with this elderly lady (82)
I know. She said:
"Life's hard. Life's never been easy for me. My life is haaaard. Don't want to talk about
it but I was in a concentration camp for 4 years. Never been easy."
"Jesus..." I said (nothing smarter came out of my mouth...)
"When I came to the States, I was so poor, all I could afford was one sandwich a week.
The other days, it was plain old bread and milk."
"Well, it's good to see you looking so pretty, so healthy after all these troubles. Some things
must have been good. You're still alive, you didn't die of cancer at 50."
"My dear, I've already had four cancers..."

Shit. I think I'll go now. I'm gonna go home and nurture my little drama, okay? Why not?
It's nothing compare to hers, I know, but it's MY fucking drama. And if I have to deal
with it, let me have it!

January 1, 2003
"What's your New Year's resolution?"
"Hmmm...let's see...More orgams perhaps? Is that weird? 2002 was just terrible."
"Well, do you deserve more?"

December 31, 2002
Patti Smith is absolutely incredible.
I went to see her and her band at the Bowery Ballroom last night and it was mesmerizing.
There was not one ounce of pretentiousness in her performance, just generosity. Despite
her status, she feels reachable. She is one of us. All I could think about was how much fun
it would be to have her (and Lenny, bien sur...) around the table tonight and celebrate with
my friends and I.
There's so much energy and charisma in that woman. She makes you believe everything's
possible, that all you wish for could come true if only you'd give it a try and put your heart
into it. Very inspiring. I left the place completely exhausted but also excited to go back to
my world and do my work!
On this note, the year of 2002 ends and I feel more than ready to receive whatever is in the
new one for me. Bring it on.

December 21, 2002
Terry Kitchen is a crazy man and I love him for it!

December 15, 2002
My friend, the painter AJ Nadel, has given me the most unbelievable gift: a space in his
gorgeous 25th Street studio, free of charge. What generosity.
Today, with a grin that won't go away, I moved in my boxes of supplies.
There is now a set of golden keys attached to those of my Brooklyn apartment, which
happen to be silver.Funny, the hierarchy of keys!

December 13, 2002
The heat in my house has refused to come on for the past two days (it's a very
temperamental system). It's so cold in here that it's impossible to do anything.
To keep warm, I started drinking wine at 4PM.
This is pissing me off. Everything about today is pissing me off. After trying to get
out of bed in these arctic conditions, I find my website down and have to pay a
mysterious extra $25 to get it back up. Then, my mother informs me that the Canadian
Student Loan Department is harassing her once again to get some money out of me.
For her sake, I had no choice but to call them, reveal my hiding place and start
payments immediately. No heat and the government after me, what a fucking loser I am...

December 9, 2002
In a dream, David had brought home an old Lenny Kaye's record just to show me the
photos. They were quite explicit, of him and Lou Reed, also singing on the album,
engaged in playful homoerotic games and looking about 16.
I remember listening to the first track and thinking it was so moving, and great to hear
him solo, that I called him up and asked him to compose a soundtrack for a gallery show.

December 1, 2002
In one day, my only day off– and it's cold and I'm exhausted, I watched three movies:
Fellini's "Night of Cabiria", Ferreri's "Tales of Ordinary Madness" and
Cavani's "The Night Porter". Now I need a week off.

November 27, 2002
My British friend, feeling guilty about our lack of involvement in one of the biggest
American holidays, calls me and says:
"Should I put a chicken in the oven for tomorrow night?".
I laugh: "A turkey. Not a chicken. It's supposed to be a turkey."
"Yes I know, but I hate turkey!"

THE BEGINNING

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