Outside though was still brilliance and originality, humor and acerbity. Moms were there with kids. Lots of twenty-somethings in skinny jeans and intentionally bad haircuts. Three or four people sat on camp chairs in the middle of the parking lot but mostly people stood, underscoring the temporary nature of the art. Traffic roared by on Roosevelt and 50th. The transient across the street at the quickie mart continued to ask for money.
Sunday, May 3, 2009
So long Tubs
Free Sheep Foundation held their Tubs memorial last Sunday. (I'll link to the Slog since FSF.org doesn't have anything. Tons of pictures on Flickr too.) Reportedly the structure will be demolished soon to make way for a new retail/apartment building. The memorial was less art opening (closing?) than clumps of pasty people dressed in black standing around a hot parking lot, watching other pasty people take pictures and duck inside for one last look.
Two friends and I were three of those pasty people. The unlit Tubs interior felt like the set of an apocalyptic movie, all shredded insulation, coils of jagged wire, broken up wallboard, dripping jugs and packets of tanning lotion, the odd scrawl of paranoid graffiti.
There's a shadow constantly hovering at my shoulder. For all my gallivanting into the social whirl, nevermind the positive social media...
Ever wondered what it takes to get a piece of fiction published? I'm not talking New Yorker type of prose. That's a rarefied world ...
Check out my new video, a brief reading from a story published this past spring in Opossum.
Welp, after a half-year experiment in social media, BSP has returned to its blogger roots. I hated Faceborkland, tbh. Sure, it was easier t...