Hey, been tryin to meet you: The Fire To Say

A long week and I had to change my face a little to separate from all those tense days. So I slathered on some pink lips and paid a taxi to get me to Chelsea and The Fire to Say. The lovely Aaron Cockle got me excited about it, thank goodness. When my cab pulled up, all the handsome friends were outside smoking. I took this as a good sign and hunched inside, back to the tiny room curated by Franklin Einspruch.

Normally, I am a needful for narrative, but I loved seeing these poems and pictures. Each sheet could be looked at as a moment fixed which was a good thing for such a little room. Original work is exciting because you can see the process, all the creases, the thickness of paint and ink and the little smudges. Julie Delporte's work was the most surprising. In her case, the larger images are made of smaller drawings raggedly collaged which I wouldn't have guessed.

Photo by Warren Craghead

Sometimes you have to leave the house and put your face close to the faces of others. I forget that, but meeting super tweet buddy Warren Craghead in person reminded me. Derik A. Badman, Franklin Einspruch and Paul K. Tunis were additional delights.

Aaron and I walked down through the streets to trains and laziness. Along the way I had to stop at a chi chi restaurant to pee. I snuck in with some highly ladyfied ladies and thought about my lips. Inside the toilet, a remix of The Pixies' Hey was playing and that was stupid but also just right.