Saturday, September 20, 2008

Goodbye

It's been fun writing about the art, music, ect. in DFW/Denton, but like all good things, The Sub-Rosa has come to an end. I very rarely have the time, gas, ect. to go out to the events I write about on here, so it seems silly to continue to write about them at this time. I'll be leaving the site up for a while so you can view all the interviews if you so desire.

There are still a lot of great things going on, and I suggest you check out some of the links on the sidebar for further info. Also, KERA has a great site called Art & Seek that is very comprehensive, current and user friendly for all your art, music, ect. needs.

Let's just say I'm suffering from a serious case of burn out. At this time, I'm focusing more on my own personal creativity and pursuits. This may not be the very end of The Sub-Rosa, but I need an extended period of hibernation. DFW/Denton, it's been real, and I wish you the best of luck.

-xoxo,
Alison

Thursday, August 28, 2008

Stuff Going On In Deep Ellum

Aug 28 Art in Celebration benefit for Gustavo Ipiña Memorial Scholarship Fund at Gallery 2910
Aug 28 Indian Jewelry at The Lounge on Elm St
Aug 29 A Decade of Texas Music Photography at Kettle Art Gallery
Aug 29 The O’s, Smile Smile and Glen Reynolds at Double Wide
Aug 30 Eek-A-Mouse at Palm Beach Reggae Club
Aug 30 GBH at Prophet Bar
Aug 30 Town Square Project event at Club Dada
Sept 4 Horse the Band/Heavy Heavy Low Low at The Door
Sept 6 Bar of Soap benefit show
Sept 7 Beard-a-fit 2 at Club Dada
Sept. 9 Deep Ellum Mixer at Lounge on Elm St
Sept 9 365 Days left till DART Green Rail line opens
Sept 13 Deep Ellum Art Walk with cooperation and in conjunction with DADA art walk
Sept 13 End of Summer BBQ blowout and Deep Ellum Art Walk After Party at Club Dada
Sept 16 These Are Powers/When Dinosaurs… at The Lounge on Elm St
Sept 18 Deke Dickerson at AllGood Cafe
Sept 18 Airline at the Prophet Bar
Sept 18 Something in the Wheel at the Live at Mokah Lounge
Sept 20 Lucid Space, Unit 9 and Corridor Space Exhibits at UTD Central Trak Gallery
Sept 22 The Queers at Double-wide
Sept 25 Laura Harrell, Frankie 45 and Dave Little at AllGood Cafe
Sept 26 Texas State Fair begins
Sept 26 Culture Prophet at The Lounge on Elm St
Sept 28 Thrasher Magazine presents the Dirty Devil Race to Hell Tour at Club Dada
Oct 17 Tomorrow People, Milky Soul (LA) at Double Wide
Oct 19 Texas State Fair ends

Oct 23 Wantain (Sweden) at Reno’s

Jason Janik

Wednesday, August 27, 2008

Everyone's Getting the Hell Out of Town

Since I am looking to hop on the moving band wagon (yes, the Rockies are calling my name), I saw this and giggled. From Laura Palmer:

"Many of you know we're moving, but did you know so are everyone else??
I just went to a going away party on Saturday (apologies if I barfed on you), and now I'm playing at one THIS SUNDAY 8/31. And it's not even mine! My good friends Aaron and Samantha are the ones going away this time. You know Sam. She's the one who punched you in the face and then dry humped you as you lay on the ground.
The whole thing is happening at:
Double Wide
8/31/08
9:00 PM
$5
21+
and features the music and wisdom of yours truly and Tiger Moth.

It will be the second to last Laura Palmer show in Dallas and, if I'm in the right mood, I might tell you to fuck off. If I'm in the wrong mood, I might tell you I love you.
Be there!

LP
"

Thursday, August 21, 2008

Studio Fling Benefit Show


From Fling:

" We are having a benefit show this Saturday to help Studio Fling stay strong! The $5 cover is to help us raise money to get a sign, pay rent, and get new lighting. Free drinks, music....nothing loud haahaa, and the back room will be dedicated to artwork thats $100 and under. Thats right, $100 DOLLARS AND UNDER! So please come on out and show your support for Fling and its artist. The show starts at 7pm this Saturday and will end around 11pm."

CADD Art Lab


The Contemporary Art Dealers of Dallas proudly announce the opening of a
new venue for talking about and presenting contemporary art, CADD Art Lab.

Join us on our opening day for Open House: In the Lab
on Saturday, September 20, 2008, from 11 a.m.-8 p.m.

The 4,000 square-foot venue will feature curated group exhibitions
drawn from the eleven CADD member galleries presented together:

And/Or Gallery // Barry Whistler Gallery // Conduit Gallery // Craighead-Green Gallery
Gerald Peters Gallery
// Holly Johnson Gallery // Marty Walker Gallery
PanAmerican ArtProjects
// The Public Trust // Road Agent
Valley House Gallery and Sculpture Garden

Don't miss the first show Indexing the Moment, September 20-October 30, 2008

1608-C Main Street, Dallas TX, 75201
Between Neiman Marcus and The Joule Hotel on Main Street in downtown Dallas
www.caddallas.net

Presented by

downtown dallas small.jpg

cadd_greysmall.jpg

Wednesday, August 20, 2008

Toys!

Here's details about a show next month at Avenue Arts Venue featuring local artists and toys!

"Designer Toys By Dallas Artists:
Ozone , N'Reason, Tyson Summers , Edward Ruiz , Jason Barnett , Diablo Texas and Steven Vogeler.

Saturday Sept 13th .
6pm-11pm
music by Zanzibar Snails.
free show open to the public, complimentary wine.

Here's a photo of Edward Ruiz's purple monkey.



Paintings and toys will be available from each of the artists."

Art Talk

There's going to be an art talk coming up at HCG Gallery:

Richard Drummond Davis invites you to join him at HCG Gallery to celebrate the addition of the colorful art of David McCullough.

"There will be refreshments and a talk by the artist.

Come and share a special evening with us!

Wednesday, August 20th, 2008
6-9pm
Please RSVP 214 760-9230 or
hcgallery@att.net"

image: DHarmonic Conversion by David McCullough

Monday, August 18, 2008

Neat

I just got some bare bones info. from my friend Aaron about this nifty deal coming up @ Rubber Gloves. I Love Silk Stocking and Yells at Eels! Check it:

"Yells At Eels
Silk Stocking
Darktown Strutters

August 23rd
9:00 PM
@ Rubber Gloves Rehersal Studios
411 East Sycamore
Denton, Texas 76205
$5

There will also be a multimedia art event involved....sounds pretty interesting!
"

Wednesday, August 13, 2008

A Bit Of Fashion Thursday Evening

I'm not really big into the Dallas fashion design scene, but this looks pretty interesting, and fashion is a form of art. HCG Gallery is a beautiful place, so this is an event that will be stunning for sho'.


HCG Gallery is proud to host New Designers & New Faces, a fundraiser for the Dallas Fashion Incubator and Texas' Next Top Designer, Thursday, August 14th, from 7-9pm.

The evening will feature last year's winner, Julia Plume, jewelry finalist Rachelle Dauphinee and accessories by finalist Chance Jackson as well as Kim Dawson Model Search Finalists.

$15 in advance / $25 at the door
RSVP @ METHODEVENTS.NET
HCG Gallery
1130 Dragon St. Suite 190
(off Howell)
Dallas, TX 75207
214.760.9230
for more information please visit www.dallasfashionincubator.org or www.hcggallery.com

Tuesday, August 12, 2008

Geomorph

Geomorph: Rethinking Landscape
Centraltrak: The UT Dallas Artists Residency

August 16 - September 15, 2008

"A mixed-media show focusing on varied representations and embodiments of “landscape.”

Artists include Peter Ligon, Mark Schatz, Lisa Nersesova, Lanie DeLay, Mike Westfried and Jim Malone."

Mark Schatz, Googling Mackinac, 2007


===================================================================

"As artists in residence at Centraltrak channel through town for a few weeks of time, we find that one of our live-work lofts, Unit 9, is intermittently open. Rather than let space go unused, we have decided to inject it with life. Unit 9 will be a temporary “project room” from August through December.

UNIT 9: INTRODUCING SUNNY SLIGER
August 16 - September 15, 2008

Sunny Sliger makes cascading tendrils of flowing form out of scraps of fabric."



===================================================================

Here's a little bit more info for those of you who are unfamiliar with this nifty artist residency in fair park:


Centraltrak: The UT Dallas Artists Residency

"Centraltrak is in the historic and newly renovated Fair Park Station Post Office Building in Deep Ellum, a revitalizing neighborhood and hip alembic chamber for creativity and artistic happenings. The name Centraltrak comes from the rich history of Deep Ellum. Because of the proximity of the Houston and Texas Centraltraks, the neighborhood was also known as "Centraltrak." In choosing this name, we pay homage to the cultural history of the area – the fact that Deep Ellum was an area settled as a "freedmens' town" by former slaves after the Civil War and that it was an entertainment, retail, and industrial hub.

Centraltrak is a multi-purpose arts building, with four live-work loft spaces for artists, eight studios for U.T. Dallas MFA students, and a gallery. We host four visiting artists, three international or national artists from outside of Texas and one Texan. Artists are selected by a committee of senior faculty of the School of Arts and Humanities at U.T. Dallas and members of the curatorial and educational staffs of the Dallas Museum of Art. The artists carry out projects in the space of Centraltrak and public realm of DFW, exhibit their work, and give public lectures for periods varying from two weeks to twelve months."

800 Exposition Avenue
Dallas, TX 75226
972.883.2476 phone

Tuesday, July 29, 2008

I Wanna Be A Robot

I had no idea what dystonia was until I clicked here and read up on it. It is nice to see so many bands chipping in time for a good cause. There's a mention of an Art Room as well, but I haven't found out who's showing. I'll let you know if I do!


"The "I Wanna Be A Robot" Rock Show and Art Auction on August 9th, 2008 is a benefit with the goal of raising funds to support research and to find a cure for Dystonia, as well as to help with the mounting medical bills for the diagnosis and treatment of Shakey Amy's Dystonia. Her subsequent surgery and the installation of a Intrathecal Baclofen Pump System will put them in over $500,000 in medical debt.

Doors open at 5pm! The Lineup for the outside patio will be:
5:30 Fishing For Comets
6:30 Laura Palmer
7:30 Titan Moon
8:30 Remington
9:30 Elkhart
10:30 Florene
11:30 The Happy Bullets
12:30 Wonderfool
1:30 The Felons


The Lineup inside will be:
6:00 Blue Petal
7:00 JD Whittenburg
8:00 Ryan Akin (A Very Special Guest!)
9:00 Lovie
10:00 Escort Service
11:00 Anvil Salute (From OKC)
12:00 Sunward
1:00 The Tah Dahs (See 'em while you can, folks!)

With the awesome DJ Mooneyham spinning the tunes in the Art Room!

Don't wanna wait in line?
Wanna donate to the cause but can't make the show?
www. shakeyamy. org now has the tickets online and available through paypal!

Amy has been suffering with Dystonia since the Summer of 2005, a mere 3 months after she and her husband Silas ™ met. Together, they are very strong. However, Dystonia has proven to be much stronger than the power of two people and two decent incomes. The medical community is not as nearly aware and proactive as they should be, and that needs to change! We need your help in aiding this couple in their fight against a disorder that affects over 300,000 Americans, with countless others going undiagnosed."

Karen Garrett

Karen Garrett
August 1st-30th
HCG Gallery


HCG Gallery presents Karen Garrett in an exhibition of new and archival works representing of the breadth and scope of her vision over the last two decades. Garrett is a pioneer of the monumental sculpture movement, and is easily recognized for her groundbreaking use of cardboard and resin in her small to large scale figurative works.

A graduate of Fine Arts in Houston and exhibited in public spaces such as the Dallas Arboretum, the Houston Art Park, as well as a flaming piece at the James Surls' Lake Project, her art has also been associated w/ the Blue Man Group, Elton John and Billy Joel.

Artist Reception Friday Aug 1, 6-9pm
HCG Gallery
1130 Dragon St. Suite 190
Dallas, TX 75207
214.760.9230

Saturday, July 26, 2008

Obscenely Unseen #3

I'm really excited to be a part of Obscenely Unseen's third installment next weekend. It's the first art show I've been in since May, and there's some really neat talent participating in the show/concert.



It's a little difficult to read so here's the info:

August 2nd.
Doors at 3pm.
$5 cover.

Space Studio
2814 Main St.
Dallas, Tx


Bands:

11pm-Holy Diver
10pm-The Kul
9pm-Dragna
8pm-Robert Jones
7pm-The Happy Bullets
6pm-Spector 45
5pm-RTB2
4pm-The Pumpkin Sea


Artists:

Dylan Hollingsworth
Dannah Walter
Charles William Faciall
Kate Andria
Mikey Branton
Kris Swenson
Matt Craddock
Karlei Jackson
C. Kirk
Jeremy Meador
Sheila Tillery
Alison Welsh (me!)
Clay Driver
Shayne Ridenour

A Little Thanks Tonight

Friday, July 25, 2008

DE History for Sale


Own a Piece of History
Artwork & autographed memorabilia from Trees, Club Dada, Gypsy Tea Room, Green Room and more.
Opening August 2nd @ Kettle Art
2714 Elm St. in Deep Ellum

Wednesday, July 23, 2008

I Lied

K, so I lied in the earlier post. We will talk music.

BRMC is going to be at Club Dada? Freaking really????
From Club Dada:


NEXT FRIDAY
THIS SHOW WILL SELL OUT!!
www. frontgatetickets. com
Photobucket

Art Coming Up

Here's some art openings I've got on my list. It's going down the next few weeks in art town around Dragon St./Design District (whichever nickname you prefer). Also, I am having a font/size battle with blogger, so this post might look a little weird. This is an epic battle that I hope to one day conquer...


The Program at Conduit Gallery, Week 1
Saturday, July 26, 2008 @ 5:00 pm
Conduit Gallery


Week 1 of The Program at Conduit Gallery will feature an opening reception of installations of Matthew Barney's Drawing Restraint 13. An art talk about the exhibit will follow at 5:30pm, along with a musical performance by Tree Wave at 8:00pm.

The Program will include 5 exhibits over 5 weeks, opening on 5 consecutive Saturdays, at Conduit Gallery, including single-channel compilation screenings, installations, and performances. A panel discussion at the Dallas Museum of Art with additional, short works, and two evening screenings at the Fort Worth Modern are also planned.

Parental discretion is advised. (That means it's going to be GOOD!)

Conduit Gallery
1626 Hi Line Drive
Suite C
Dallas, TX 75207

214.939.0064


=============================

Candyland - Group Show
Saturday, July 26, 2008 @ 5:00 pm
Pan American Art Projects

Pan American Art Projects is pleased to present a summer group show called Candyland. The opening reception is Saturday, July 26th, from 5 - 8 p.m.

Participating artists include Faith Gay, Charlotte Smith, Collin Murasko, Rusty Scruby, Ellen Frances Tuchman, and William Cannings.

(Honestly this one's making the list solely based on the title.)
Pan American Art Projects
1615 Dragon Street
Dallas, TX 75207
214.522.3303
==============================

Karen Garrett - New Works
Friday, August 1, 2008 @ 6:00 pm
HCG Gallery



HCG Gallery presents Karen Garrett in an exhibition of new and archival works representing of the breadth and scope of her vision over the last two decades. A pioneer of the monumental sculpture movement, Garrett has worked with clay, raw cardboard, resinated cellulose laminate, and stained glass among other media to create her intricate pieces.
HCG Gallery
1130 Dragon Street
Suite 190
Dallas, TX 75207

214.760.9230
==============================

Sehnsucht (Aspiration) - Group Exhibition
Thursday, July 31, 2008 @ 5:00 pm
Light & Sie


(Aspiration), a group exhibition of paintings, photographs, video and works on paper organized by Georges Armaos. The works selected are a mix of emerging and well established international artists. Contemporary abstract painting is approached through works by Ingrid Calame, David Reed and Dan Walsh. Photography is represented with works by Vanessa Beecroft, Todd Eberle, Thomas Ruff, Hedi Slimane and Jeremy Kost while two important projections by Kimsooja and Joseph Dadoune complete the exhibition. The complimentary opening reception is Thursday, July 31st from 5pm – 8pm with artists and curator Georges Armaos attending.

Light & Sie
129 Leslie Sreet
Dallas, TX 75207

214.745.2255

DOMA Winners

Honestly, I'm fairly unimpressed with this list... (Fair To Midland best metal?? WTF?) Sean Kirkpatrick is the only one I actually agree with. Sigh. Well Dallas, we must go back to talking art because I have very little in common with you when it comes to music taste if these results are accurate...

(I still like you withstanding, but we've GOT TO TALK about what you're putting in your ears, I mean it looks like this was a name recognition vote...)


Eleven Hundred Springs – Best Band

Sarah Jaffe – Best Solo Act

Eleven Hundred Springs - Best Album

Jonathan Tyler and the Northern Lights - Best Blues Act

Eleven Hundred Springs - Best Country/Roots Act

Mom – Best Electronic/Experimental Act

Fair to Midland - Best Metal Act

Sarah Jaffe - Best Folk/Acoustic Act

Erykah Badu - Best Funk/R&B Act

Astronautalis - Best Rap/Hip-Hop Act

Snarky Puppy - Best Jazz Act

Sarah Jaffe - Best Female Vocalist

Good Records - Best Label

Salim Nourallah - Best Producer

Granada Theater - Best Venue

Good Records - Best Record Store

Kris Youmans - Best Booking Agent

Chelsea Callahan - Best Music Advocate

DJ Burlap - Best DJ

Sean Kirkpatrick - Best Instrumentalist

Boys Named Sue - Best Cover/Tribute Act

Matt Hillyer - Best Male Vocalist

Dove Hunter – Best Indie Act

THe BAcksliders - Best Hard Rock Act

"Slow Southern Home" - Doug Burr - Best Song

Whiskey Folk Ramblers & Tejas Brothers (tie)- Best New Act

Tuesday, July 22, 2008

DOMA Tonight


So every year this goes down, and every year every blogger, hipster, and music critic cries out about how the nominations suck, the bands suck, and whomever nominated these acts has no clue what's really going on in Dallas.

Well, I looked over this list and quite pleasantly found acts like Akkolyte, Mitra, Yells At Ells and Liz McGowen from Silk Stocking among the nominees. Awesome!

Though I'm quite disappointed with the acts that will play the awards ceremony (Record Hop and the Backsliders being the only ones I'd watch), I'm excited to see who wins.

Granada tonight @ 8pm. It's free but the line will not be fun in the sun, so I'd show up early if I were you.

Wednesday, July 16, 2008

Back In Town

So, me and my fella just got back in town from Shreveport. My hiatus is almost done. I'll be back with art stuffs here in the next few days. Hope you are enjoying your summer!

Friday, July 11, 2008

HCG Tonight

I'll be heading over to HCG Gallery in a few minutes to catch the second opening in this art two parter.

"This summer, HCG Gallery is proud to bring Dallas 2 Nights, 2 Artists, 2 Openings, featuring two established Texas artists: Michael Ledoux and Shane Pennington. Both artists' pieces will hang simultaneously the duration of the exhibit, and we will celebrate each man's work with two special, individual receptions!"


This evening they will be hosting a reception for Shane Pennington. (Michael Ledoux's reception was last month, but his work is still hanging, so you can check him out too.)

"Shane Pennington is a Dallas artist who works with many different types of media. From large
expressionistic acrylic on canvas paintings, to video projected onto paintings, to sculpture, to photography mixed with installation, Shane Pennington is a man of many talents."

HCG Gallery
1130 Dragon St. Suite 190
Dallas, TX 75207
214.760.9230
www.hcggallery.com



Tuesday, July 8, 2008

Grifter

This is another poem I'm putting in the first book:


Grifter

by Alison Welsh


Hand to metal
Metal to hand
A sick little quiver
Of a sick little man
Can
Ooze such an oozing
Through thick plastic-wrap
'Cause under the skin
Is where the heart's at.


Monday, July 7, 2008

The Devil and Isabella

Well, I am back from the hell of moving! I thought you all would enjoy another wonderful story from local Dallas writer diesel to brighten up your Monday morning:



The Devil and Isabella
by diesel


I wanted to sell my soul. It wasn’t worth a shit anymore anyway. It was as empty as the eyes of a dead snake. It had been sucked dry from the blood-sucking umpteen ex-girlfriends, drugs, cops, and bar customers. I wanted to sell my empty soul to the Devil. I would sell it in exchange for glory. No money. Glory. I wanted everyone in the world to know my name as the greatest story-teller of all time – diesel Warren Conway. If the Devil didn’t want it, I’d sell it to someone or something else.


Soul for sale: who’s buying? I posted the sign above the mailboxes with my loft number on it.

I knew I had some pretty crazy neighbors so I sat back and waited for a response.


There was a lady who lived down the hall from me. She lived at the very end of the long old looking hallway. The tonalities of light and dark around her door creeped me out but somehow welcomed me. Her door glowed at me every time I looked down there. The light bulb above her door was always broken. When the landlord came around to change the bulb every month, she’d peek out with a broom handle and whack the light out. Her name was Edith.


Edith was a Witch. Everyone in the building knew it. We never saw her though. She had the only loft equipped with a fire escape. That’s how she came and went. Once a month after the bulb was broken she’d lay a dead sparrow outside her door. Sometimes two depending on her mood, I guess.


It had been three months since I posted the sign above the mailboxes and six since I’d written anything. I could tell people had looked at the sign because there was dried up spit on it. One wad of spit was fresh enough to still be dangling afraid to drop to the ground. I left it there.


I made the two flights of stairs and walked towards my door. The door before mine swung open unexpectedly startling me. It was my neighbor, Daisy, the hippie. She was excited to see me,


“Hey neighbor!” She screeched.


“Daisy you scared the shit outta me.”


“Sorry man. Hey, you got any papers?”


“NO. Hell no. I’m not walking to that gas station anymore for any reason. You know, they should lay a bomb on that area, clean the place out.”


She chuckled and went on, “I saw your silly note on the mailbox. Someone spit on it.”

That’s no silly note. That’s for real. I’m going to sell my soul to the Devil.”


“I want to give you another massage. You’re losing it.”


“Daisy, I lost it long ago. Hey listen, do you know that old lady down the hall?”


“Who, Ms. Smith? The landlord’s friend?”


“No the old lady at the very end of the hallway. You know, the Witch?”


“Not really. I said hi to her once and she hissed at me.”


I looked at her door while we talked, “I wonder if she can help me…”


Just as I said that, she opened her door and stood stiff in her doorway looking back down at us. She stood strong and tall like an oak tree. A thousand year old oak tree. She gazed like an evil Gargoyle for so long it was scarily obvious. Daisy ducked back inside her door and locked the six locks loudly leaving me standing there. I didn’t take my eyes off her. We were locked in a stare-down.


I began to get tunnel vision but kept a cool demeanor. She spoke but I could hardly hear her, “I heard you were asking for me.”


“Uh, yeah, did you see my note downstairs?”


“I saw you write it.” Then her door closed without her even touching it. It slammed loudly echoing throughout the empty hallway.


I threw my hands out keeping my balance looking side to side and behind me. Nobody was around to see what had happened. Beads of sweat formed on my brow. I kept my head on a swivel still looking around. My head snapped from one side to the other several times. I was still standing outside Daisy’s door.


My door was only a few feet away and I made it inside. I locked all my locks too. I snapped the lamp on next to my couch and sat down. My dog sat in front of the door with his ears perked up staring at the bottom of the door. Do I really want to do this, I thought? Even the old lady down the hall scares me, I thought. She probably has a spring on her door that automatically closes it, I thought. She was probably tired of the noise or something and decided to scare us, I thought. I thought lots of shit to justify what just happened.


I looked at my laptop sitting there on the table in front of me. The screen was blank. The screen would always be blank if I didn’t do something drastic. The screen would never hold another word if I didn’t turn my soul over to that damned old Devil.


I had never NOT been able to write a story. Ideas and thoughts just flowed out of me for years. For the last six months I couldn’t even get one line out. I was going crazy. I had to write. I’d settle for anything at this point, hence the selling of the soul idea. I sat and I sat and I sat, thinking.


FUCK IT! If anyone in this fucking god awful city was going to be able to help me it was that old dusty Witch down the hall. I mean, who else did I know that could introduce me to Satan? I waited till everyone in the building was asleep and ventured down the hallway, soul in hand.

It smelled funny in front of her door, like stale smoke, or burning embers. Maybe I’m being too dramatic here. Let’s just say something smelled funky.


Just as I thought how to knock I paused and looked back down the hall. I turned back facing the Witch’s door. Should I knock HARD like I was the fucking boss? Or should I knock light and politely as not to wake anyone. Maybe I’d kick the bottom of the door with my toes…the door creeked open and that smell was suddenly an offensive odor. I pinched my nose with my thumb and fore-finger on my left hand and reached out with my right as if to shake her hand, “Hello, I’m diesel in 207.” My voice sounded funny as I pinched my nose.


“I know who you are,” she said in a gravelly voice.


“You never really told me if you read my note downstairs.”


“I know about the note diesel.”


“Listen, can I come in or are we going to stand out here all night?”


“Do come in,” she said and turned on her heel like a pirouette.


There were skulls hanging all over the place from chains. Skulls sat on tables with dust all around. There were jaw bones and pieces of bone lying around everywhere. She wore a skull necklace and dangly skull earrings. There were candles lit on a couple of tables. The main concentration of candles lit a book written in a different language. The candles were stabbed into the tops of skulls. It made me very aware of my own bones. My very bones felt naked as old billets of wood. My bones felt like stacked and quartered wood. I felt cold.


“What is it that I can do for you diesel?”


“You got something on the stove?”


“NO.”


“Well something is sure as fuck burning.”


“Get to it!”


“Ok, Edith we both know why I’m here. You’re going to help me sell my soul to the Devil.”


“My name isn’t Edith, it’s Isabella.”


“But the mailbox downstairs says Edith on it.”


“I’m aware.”


“Is Edith in there cooking? Is she in the oven?”


“GET TO IT!”


“Ok…Isabella…I’m a writer. I don’t know if I have writers block or what but I have to write. I HAVE to write. You got that?”


“I understand. But I can’t do anything for you without you directly asking me. You got that?”


“I’m willing to sell my soul to Satan himself if he’s willing to make me the greatest writer of all time. I want everybody on the face of the planet to know the name diesel Warren Conway. I want to write the most captivating words anyone has ever read. I don’t want money, unless someone gives it to me, I want the glory of being the top dog. And I don’t want to live forever either.”


“Slow down my new friend. Let me look at you up close,” she moved close to my face with a skull-candle. “You have great sadness in your eyes. You’ve lived a rough life.”


I had a candle flame in my eye, “You’re telling me. My last girlfriend, Annette, almost killed me.”


“I see that, and worse.”


“Isabella, if you don’t mind me asking, how old are you?”


She looked past me with sad eyes and answered, “I’m over twenty-five thousand years old.”


“Really? You don’t look a day over a thousand.”


Then her eyes widened and her nose and forehead scowled at me viciously. I thought about running out of there for dear life but I was frozen solid. There was no way I could’ve moved from that spot. Her voice got deeper, “This is no joke asshole.”


I cowed and said, “You’re Satan aren’t you?”


“I’m everything!” She said in an even deeper voice.


“I’m sorry if I insulted you Satan. Take my soul. Take my rotten old soul and give me the glorious life of writing. Allow me to write freely for as long as I live and my soul is yours!”


“You’re pitiful!” Satan said with a rumbling and thunderous voice. “What would I want with a scared little empty soul like yours?”


“I must define myself! This is my destiny! I’m forging my destiny!!”


“I’ll take your soul and hold it over the flame for eternity!!”


“TAKE IT!! TAKE IT AND GIVE ME WHAT I WANT DEVIL!!”


Wind was swirling around the room like a tornado. Fire swept out of the cracks in the walls. Isabella’s face transformed into the ugliest thing I’ve ever seen. High pitched voices swirled in my head and low voices at the same time. The heat was excruciating. And then two last deep words, “IT’S DONE!!!!”


The next thing I knew I woke up on my couch with a splitting headache. My clothes were singed and my dog, Max, was licking my face. It was daytime, around noon . I tried to re-play the night before in my head but the thoughts were jumbled and crazy. Surely not, I thought.


I sat up on the couch and noticed my laptop was on with the blinking icon calling me. Calling me to fill the screen. I did, fill the screen that is.


I wrote for a week straight. Then two weeks straight. Then months. Soon, every publisher in the country wanted a piece of me. They called day and night. My mailbox was always full of checks for hundreds and thousands of dollars. The more stories I sent the more money they sent.


I finally made my mark and I knew who to thank.


Wednesday, June 25, 2008

Back Next Week

I will be back to give you stories, poems, art and such next week. I am moving this weekend, so my computer time will be sparse at best for the next week. Cheers!

Do go to this:


Monday, June 23, 2008

TOM WAITS

Yeah I didn't post today. I went to this:



















I promise to have a story by diesel tomorrow and a poem by yours truly. Tonight I saw Tom Waits, enough said...

Saturday, June 21, 2008

Saturday Stuffs

THIS:



AND THIS:


AND THIS:



Friday, June 20, 2008

Friday Stuffs

So, I've been a little out of touch the last week... because I started my awesome new job! I love Whole Foods. Just being there makes me happy, and now I get to be there all the time, so, well, you can do the math.

This is kinda cool. Pretty much every local artist I know made one of these boards:



Guapo Skateboards presents an evening of spectacular art, style, skateboarding, and cocktails benefiting Texas Scottish Rite Hospital for Children, St.Philips School & Community Center, & The Dallas Arts Community. Throughout the evening guests will bid on and purchase their favorite artists' skateboard & other auction items. Tickets are $25.00. Contact Bri Crum at 760.250.8518 or bricrum@mac.com.
7pm cocktails, 8pm Live Auction
Janette Kennedy Gallery, Artist Quarter

Some of the artists:

Levi Leddy
Tony Hawk
Tom Currie
Paul Watrous
Minji Watrous
Kevin Rivas
Larrey Carrey
Michael Hamm
Hatzeil Florez
Ray Albarez
Rafael Harris
Terry Baughman
Ross Von Rosenberg
Alison Welsh (That's me!)
Matt Orwig
Jo Skillz
Jena Rushings
Jason Ice
Jackie Daniels
Joe Hardy
John Hardy
R.C. Hardy
George Fowler
Nick Alemond
Cabe Booth
John Gonzalez
Justin Zajac
Joe Eckert
Le Savarese
Lisa Lindholm
Bucky Lasek
Cory Sheppard
Ken Downing
Sam Saladino
Rob Jr


The after party:

@
SPACE with Holy Diver.


And there will be some tunes at Kettle for ya:

Tuesday, June 17, 2008

Marilyn Monroe Wasn't a Size Six



Marilyn Monroe Wasn't a Size Six

by Alison Welsh


The snakes are coming.
The snakes are charming.
Winding, wielding, whispering
Paths among the fruit tree
With promises of lily white,
With promises of dancing light.

Me she, we,
Partake of the finest
And more pure ecstasy,
While green monsters dive,
And park their unholy bodies
Upon our lovers thigh.

Picked up the costume,
Picked up the cloth,
Because breasts hypnotize,
And triangles are obscene.

The hunter
The gatherer
The skirt in the hole.
Hands fluffing yeast
Hip cradling child
A shadow of a soul.

Big "A" marker
When we've tried to ride the wind
Like a cow for the milking
With a subservient chin.

Straighten up
Suck it up
And keep that waist trim!
They've got mountains of silk,
Satin bliss
But only for those who keep thin.

And now Marilyn's crying,
She's up heaving sick,
For the voluptuous temptress
Wasn't a size six.


Going DEEP with the Senator and Police

Senator Royce West @ DEEP Crime Watch Meeting tonight @ Sons of Herman

west.jpg


Senator Royce West’s office (located in Deep Ellum) confirmed today that he would like to and will attend the next Deep Ellum Enrichment meeting.
Deep Ellum Enrichment Project Meeting/Crime Watch:
Sons of Hermann Hall
June 17th
9pm Meeting - Mixer begins at 8:30pm

All are Welcome - Open to the Public!

Check out a few (or a lot) of the Senator’s awards here.

sons-of-h-hall.jpg

Monday, June 16, 2008

The Hippie and The Deadline


The Hippie and The Deadline

by diesel



The pain killer was working its magic and my laptop was ready. I sit on the couch leaning over the coffee table while I write. It's a small square shaped table that doesn't hold much. Uncomfortable but I don't have a desk. I've found a way to fit an ashtray and a note pad next to my laptop. The ashtray usually sits on top of the note pad. I live in a one room loft, 500 square feet, and don't have many visitors. Only a lamp next to the couch lights the room after dark. That's how I like it.


It was after ten and most of the people in my building were asleep. That's when I do most of my writing. A local underground magazine called Alive needed this story I was writing the next day to meet the deadline. It was a short story about a recluse from South Dallas.


Leave me alone world, I thought. Leave me be for one night. I only ask for one night alone. If the phone rings I'll throw it out the window, I thought. I don't think my neighbor ever sleeps though. In fact, I think she waits for me to start writing before she comes knocking. Her name is Daisy. She's a hippie. She also works the day shift at a strip club. Apparently the day crowd at this joint like un-bathed hippie type women. I'll write fast, I thought. She'll be here to bug me as sure as the seasons change, I thought.


I began the story. The only sounds in my cave came from a buzz fan and the traffic noise from the highway a hundred yards away. And the clicking noises my fingers made on the computer. My dog was asleep in the corner. Every now and then I heard Daisy clanking shit around next door. I always move into lofts next door to loud single women. Odd.


Momentum was on my side for once. The sentences flowed nicely. I had a good rhythm going. The words went together well. This thing would be done in no time without any distractions.


Of course this spectacular moment in time came to a crashing end, living next to a needy neighbor. Sure as shit. A knock at the door rattled me off the couch. I hit a couple of wrong letters on the keyboard fucking up a word. GREAT, I thought, WHY?


I had two dead bolts locked as well as the chain lock. The doorknob lock was broken. I turned the dead bolt latches and the locks rumbled out of their chambers burrowed inside the door frame. The chain stayed on. Then I opened the door as wide as the chain lock would allow. "Yeah Daisy," I said, peeking through the chain.


She smiled, "Hey neighbor, you got any papers?"


"You knocked after ten at night for paper?"


"Yeah I ran out. I was cleaning up the kitchen and…"


"Wait a second. I'll be right back."


"Groovy dude!"


I shut the door and leaned my back against it. Then I let out an impatient sigh and walked over to the couch. I ripped some paper off of my note pad and returned opening the door and peeking back through the chain. "Here ya go," I said, shoving the papers through the crack.


"No silly, not paper… papers. You know, rollers?"


Now I was beginning to get upset. "I don't smoke weed Daisy. Why don't you just go to the gas station? You still have an hour before they close."


"Are you sure?"


I responded, "Am I sure about what?"


"About not having any papers."


"Rolling papers would do no good to a person who doesn't smoke weed Daisy. I bet you could use a night off anyway." I slammed the door on her face and sat back down on the couch sinking into it.


I closed my eyes re-capturing my pill buzz and picked up where I left off. Clickety-clack I regained my momentum. My dog, Max, was curious about what was going on at the door and paced the floor in front of the table. Then he sniffed at the bottom of the door. Then he paced more. Then he sniffed more. Then he paced more. Then he sat down on my left foot looking back at me. That was his way of telling me he'd shit on my foot if I didn't take him out. "Go Lay Down", I ordered. He stayed there. Then he farted on my foot.


Max is always a nice change of pace. I never get pissed when he interrupts me while I'm writing. He's actually given me lots of funny stories to write. I got up to take him out.


Getting past Daisy's door was tricky. I didn't want her coming out to talk to me so I very quietly unlocked the door, leashed the dog and slowly put my jingling keys in my pocket. Max ran in circles while tethered to my hand. I coached him, "Be quiet boy. Let's get out of here quietly. Shhh."


Then I opened the door and tippy-toed out like a ninja. I slowly closed the door and turned. Guess who was standing there? Daisy wore a long flowy dress with flowers all over it. She had a flower in her hair too, above her right ear. She was bare foot and smelled like an un-bathed farmer. She would fit right in if this were the sixties. She should wear a brazier. I bet her cunt smells like her armpits, I thought.


"Hey diesel, you going to the store?"


"No, my dog has to take a shit."


"Well if I give you some money will you get some papers for me?"


"Hell I guess so. Do I have a choice?"


"We all have choices. You don't have to."


"In this case, Daisy, I don't have a choice. You'll hound me all night till I do SOMETHING for you. Isn't that how it usually works?"


"Geeze! You need to relax. When you get back I'll give you a massage," She said batting her eyes.


"You'd have to bathe first and we both know that's not going to happen so just give me the money and I'll grab some papers for you while I'm out."


"Here's the money. And I DO bathe, I just don't use deodorant or shave my legs."


"Well you should."


I walked away toward the outer door of the building. Max ran in circles biting at his leash tugging my arm. He's one strong boxer. He'll knock me down sometimes if I'm not ready.

We were outside. The night air was nice. A slight summer breeze rolled over the bushes and tree-tops.


Nobody was out. I felt like I had the entire city to myself. We strolled along. Max pissed on a couple of bushes and a car tire. We got to his spot where he likes to shit. It's one of the few grassy areas in my neighborhood. It's his pretend back yard. I think the homeless shit there too. I let him off his leash and he trotted around sniffing. He sniffed for several minutes until finally deciding the specific spot he'd shit on. And he did, shit that is. His face was a satisfied one as he unloaded the loaf of bread he ate earlier. "Good boy," I said, "Let's go."


I hooked him back up to his leash and we proceeded on. As we got closer to the gas station people seemed to appear out of nowhere. Homeless men roamed aimlessly. A few homeless women too. They all looked like zombies. I always wondered how they ended up that way.


Where were their families? Where were their friends? Where were their jobs? This IS the land of plenty so why didn't they have anything? How do they eat? Were they insane? It seems cruel for a rich city to let people dwindle away. Maybe they chose to be that way. Maybe Daisy was right about choices, I thought.


I figured I'd walk faster to avoid the inevitable pan-handling. Two guys passed us pushing shopping carts overflowing with useless things like hubcaps, two-by-fours, dirty blankets, a fishing pole, ancient floor speakers and copper wiring. They didn't ask for anything. They saw Max and kept their sad looking eyes straight ahead. I thought to myself, they probably slam the two-by-fours into the ground then cover them with the blankets for shelter. Then they go fishing with the poles and cook the fish over a makeshift fire using the hubcap for a plate. The speakers? I had no idea what they'd use those for. And, of course, they'd sell the copper wiring to buy crack.


They didn't pay taxes. They had no ID. They chewed their own fingerprints off their fingers. They did whatever the fuck they wanted. They were the only free people alive. I mean really free. Free from it all. I slapped myself across the face and walked on down the sidewalk.

The closer we got the more people we saw. I thought about my story I wasn't writing. My face transformed into a scowl. That sometimes ran off pan-handlers if Max didn't bark at them. One zombie took a chance, "Say. Say homie. Say boss man."


"I'm in a hurry," I said.


"Man! That's a purty dog. Is dat a Pit Bull?" The poor guy asked.


"It's a Boxer. He'll eat you alive if you get too close. Just move on."


"I don't wont dat thing gettin on me."


"No, you don't," I said.

He moved on. Another black homeless man took his chance. "Alright home boy!" He had his hand extended out like he wanted to high-five me.


I asked, "Can't you see I have a vicious dog on the other end of this leash?"


"Dat ain't nuttin but a Boxer."


"Yeah, A FUCKING MEAN ONE!!" I pretended to hold Max back.


"Help me out so I can catch this bus right quick," the homeless man asked.


"Busses don't run this late."


"Man I'm hungry. Please help me out."


"Can't do it. All I have is my debit card. Plus my dog is getting pissed." I tell the homeless I have a debit card so they'll leave me alone.


"I should fuck you up white boy!" He threatened.


"TRY IT! I'll turn my dog loose and he'll tear your fucking throat out!"


"Man don't put your dog on me, I needs ta eat mang."


"So get a god damn job!! We all have choices!!"

Then I walked away. He still talked to me in the distance. I couldn't make out what he was saying and I didn't care.


We reached the parking lot of the gas station. FINALLY. Four or five black homeless men stood in front of the store with five-gallon buckets, news papers and squirt bottles with water in them. They asked every person who pulled up if they wanted their windows washed. No, was the response every time. Why do they even bother?


I walked by them all and they moved out of my way fearing my dog. They weren't as brave as the guy before. I took Max into the store with me.

The middle-eastern clerk said, "No dogs please."


"Do you want my dog in here or the walking dead?" I asked.


"Ok please hurry. You get me in trouble with dog."


"If you had a couple of dogs in here you'd never get robbed again."


"HA! Good idea my friend."


"Ok we're not friends, just give me some rolling papers."


He turned to show me the papers, "We have long, short, wide, thin, rice, blunt…"


"You decide." I said. He gave me the most expensive ones they had.


"9.99 please."


"Jesus Fucking Christ Almighty. How do you sleep at night?" I asked as I peeled out the money.


"You like get high, you pay."


"Give me my penny back you fucking thief." He tried to keep my change. I walked toward the door to leave.


He said, "Thank you come again."


Yeah I'll come again, I thought, to burn this god damned building down with him in it. Then I'd burn all those lazy no-job-having black zombies to hell too. Then I'd blow the gas pumps up and roast marshmallows in the blazing inferno, I thought. Someone would eventually do it for me. I'm too much of a coward to do something like that.


I was back on the sidewalk now and had to run the gauntlet back home. The people I said no to before didn't bother me. A crazy looking black lady tried to say something to me but ignored her. She had no teeth, no hair, no ability, no strength, no nothing. Her dignity had been washed away long ago like the faith in herself. I knew as long as I ventured into their turf I'd have to put up with these things. That's why I stay inside as much as possible. We walked on. I thought about my story.


Now we were back my territory. No bums. But they were close. They were always close. We walked through Max's pretend back yard, down a couple of side streets and up to the outside of our building. I opened the door to the building with my key and let Max run free. He made it to the top of the stairs in a flash and I followed. He trotted to our door and sat down outside of it. I heard loud music coming through Daisy's door. I pounded on it. Nothing. I pounded again. BAM BAM BAM. Then another neighbor peeked out and said, "Do you fucking mind?"


"You can hear me knocking but you don't hear this loud music?!"


"She's a girl."


"So fucking what!!! Get your ass back inside or I'll sick my dog on you. Bitch."


Her door slammed and Daisy opened up at the same time. "Oh you're back! Did you take the scenic route?"


"Funny. Do you have any idea what I just went through?"


"Come in and tell me all about it. I have some really good pot."


"Take your papers. I have a story to write. I really should get back to it."


"'K Neighbor. Happy writing."


I wish I could be so bubbly. Well, maybe not bubbly but nicer.


I shut the door behind me and sat back down on the couch. I looked around at my loft. Everything in there was exactly where I wanted it. I was happy. My dog was happy. I finished the story and took another pain killer. I leaned back shutting my eyes waiting for the effect. It came twenty minutes later. I'd make the deadline.


I went next door and got my massage.