(kilo)kish robinson b.1990

Playing with crayons + pastel sets sometimes reminds me of elementary assignments as a kid where you’re meant to draw your family standing outside your house, with your triangle for a roof, and clouds that are blue and not white. With 8 colors or 12 colors art sets, there is usually only one brown, and I always had the hardest time trying to make a realistic depiction of my family. I would try and mix the brown with the yellow or orange and It was always so strange. This popped into my mind again yesterday at joann fabrics, I had stopped in to get things for another project and came across an aisle of pom poms. Honestly, looking at the colors in the assortment and remembering my own dilemmas, the first thing that came to my mind was the similarity between my kiddie drawings and blackface, african american caricature. So i’m in the process of making a decorative pillow completely covered in patterned pom poms. Really not meant to be offensive, just exploring the medium and questioning culture. 

night #1 

having seen you there beside your friends through the crack in the door, behind the doorman’s frame, looking from behind his left shoulder, I noticed you all like a ragtag group from fat albert. i noticed you behind other pleading eyes to come inside and poorly dressed girls pushing past me. watered down vodka sodas and jameson and gingers spillage against my right side. I noticed a cream colored girl hiding behind as i hid behind the door guard as he clicked in no one. My eyes did not meet yours, purposely. I stepped backwards in sticky soiled flooring. back into the heat and mist the red light special lights and strobe. A heat rushed over me, i played my songs as the heat rushed over me and i wondered. I was mixing two cliche songs when you walked in. I may have missed my cue or something like that, forcing the cliche song to run longer than expected. wishing for another songs girls repeated that step-to robotic dance that signaled to me they were over it and i quickly came to my senses and cut the track. I had barely taken a sip of my vodka tonic which was precisely 35% vodka and 40 percent tonic and the rest metallic tasting tap water ice that they warn you about consuming on the news. A shaky hand grabs it up, tapping a cue with my left and i float my eyes over a sea of heads and out through the back door smoking patio where i see y’all migrating. switching djs and apologizing for my aloofness i unplug and throw things into a leather knapsack which was given to me for free - i wade through the red sea, anchored by polite requests for pictures and for conversations long enough for them to determine and explain later that i was sweet and nice. I was led by a flamboyant friend in search of cigarettes and i put on a brave face and turned my anger into arrogance and egotism. Asking a girl of five feet for a cigarette she lights for me and i run into a young boy who has his eyes on me. it would never happen but for the sake of changing the subject i don’t completely neglect his conversation. expecting to be able to have some sort of entrance i am rather shocked when i turn the corner to see all of you.

my first tokyo #1

my first tokyo #1

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