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.