Sometimes you meet a poet with a pack of Italian wine and I suggest you follow him through the gray streets towards black and white and engage the minerals and acid to find the trick of the yellow submarine.

the poet is Sir Francis Kirk and the wine that matters is his too. Google and buy the book of poems… Later I will have the link. It’s called Mushmoon.

I married Isis on the fifth day of May, but I could not hold on to her very long…

Dudes

eat drink be merry….tomorrow Dylan may steal your gal…or wouldn’t you just let him dance with her and be honored?

The entorage had the notion to try all the best fried chicken in the city and have a Million Dollar Bash on sweet JUDY Judy judy’s roof…We had downtown, Korean, Mid Town and Uptown in the house….damn its hard to decide what’s best, but Dirty Bird rather rocks.

The West Indian/ Carribean Nannies and I had a picnic with their little charges and the sweet ice tea. They invited me to join with the stipulation that I tell them “A Truth”. I said, “Would you like to know the secret of a Good Life?”
“Tell me now mr. Alex,” says the Haitian with the patois and the perfect smile and the Pentacostal Jazz Hands.
“Joyce’s Cooking. This is happiness. If I’m sleeping don’t wake me up. If I’m dead, don’t do CPR, if I’m in Hell, who needs heaven… This is Heaven”…
Ladies Laughing at your jokes… Never a bad sound. So we talked about God and the Devil and tea and Drugs and Jesus and Food. As I said, the sweet spiced chicken was by Joyce…not James but about as profound… Died and woke up in Paradise: Sugar Mountain…. Later was drinks with I.T. guy and the Drunk Muses… so stay tuned for more loverly images of loverly city in loverly springtime of our years.

The Video started as a vimeo project… follow the link and look for tag: merightnow to find what folks were doing when they shot themselves… with camera I mean. Funny but God bought a revolver and a bottle of Mad dog and went hound hunting. Bastard bitch. Above and below that is some images from a Spanish Surf and skate and ski and youth culture magazine called SPOT. I’m big in Spain. You didn’t know? Sure dudes, I’m a fucking Andalusian Rosebud…. how’s that going to save my dog’s life. It won’t is how…. ergo worthless.

A vlog fooling with painting and Lou Reed and Bowie and thoughts on upcoming Royal Wylds music Video for Kimbo and some documentationof my work next to Crista Grauer’s at Artflux last week and just, you know, loving spring in Beautiful Sugar Mountain Brooklyn.

ABC is as easy as 1 2 3 as easy as Do Ray Me, you see?

Once I saw the changing of command on the USS Pittsburgh at Grotton, CT with my brother from a Bolex mother. When The Captain leaves the ship they blow a dog whistle and say: “Pittsburgh going Ashore.” It is as if the soul of the boat has left the boat. When The new Captain walks the gangplank, the dog whistle is blown in opposite progression and the Ensign speaks these magic jazz hand words: “Pittsburgh Coming Aboard!” and it is as if the boat is born again.

Me and Pat call melady Young Pas (or green onion in Korean, or Sly to the Midwesterners or Sylvie to you… etc.): Pittsburgh. She is the Captain my Captain. She is the queen of that little steel Swiss, but rusting Town in the middle of the Eastern Sea Board. I was throwing out all my old clothes yesterday and getting rid of all the wire and plastic hangers… nothing but wood is good quoath Pittsburgh and I concurred while wearing the buddhist Stettson and the silk guns and the Star Wars blasters still in the a tiny casket to be burried by the IRA somwhere beside the river Liffey. I tripped and fell upon a Bazooka shell full of old memories of Pittsburgh’s youth and there were steller shots of her as Stella amongst the stars and my street car named desire and some calling cards from old beaux and a shot of her leaning away from a dire wolf… him stealling kisses and trying to eat her heart out and I realize it is good to walk with pax but always have silk guns in a silk casket somewhere… the silent big stick as the Church on the Hill said, or was it The Mac daddy Author, or Ike? Yes Ike who I like if only because he said, “Beware the military industrial complex”… The king can speak the truth, but the wolves are still there… stealing kisses, and hearts, and gold, and souls.

I became quite green with jealousy looking at the explosive contents of the shell… and then I found a receipt for the first futon we ever shared and a letter I wrote to fair Pittsburgh in Pittsburgh when I was in the Tower of Pain and hats and song. It was not the most regal of things… a manic all night scrawl on yellow legal paper… but you know what? It was really a very romantic letter. It brought a single tear to my eye that dropped into the vast Atlantic… How can a shell hold such wealth I thought? For in that moment I realized that this was a contract signed thirteen years ago… So Why has it taken me so long to honor it and honor fair Pittsburgh?

… Because you see, I have been hiding in plain sight, playing the fool on the hill. Now it is time to wear the purple robes and take the crown that is mine. Today Pittsburgh. Tomorrow the world. It is my job to be her knight in shining armor coming to her emotional rescue on a fine Arab charger. It is my job to keep the dire wolves at bay. Hail Pittsburgh hail the Queen.

I was at Freddy’s the night Sly Fox left for Las Vegas and I gave two guys my moleskin and said, “Make me a drawing, buy me a beer…sort of as a joke…and I went outside to smoke… when I got back they had drawn this and bought me a magic hat #9… it is names of the superbowl champion (two years in a row) Steelers from the seventies when I used to wear the black and gold slicker to protect me from the hard rain…. Coin see dances coincidences…. They were Pittsburgher… friends from many moons ago… reunited in the city on a drunkes Spree… fiddle di di.

The prettiest by far and the glow of her meaning outshines every star. I feel part of every ocean sea and star and I can see from near and far, a world I’ve never seen before… because it’s withcraft, that wicked witchcraft and though I know it’s strictly taboo, when she arouses the need in me, my heart says, “Yes indeed” in me, because I have got her under my skin…. That prettiest star.

Like Sinatra live at The Sands of time and desert with the Count of Basie and the Nelson of Riddles. Most photos removed due to mangement.

Oh the honey and the wine and women and song did pour fourth from the mouth of a yellow whale, where I crashed upon the shore of some magnificent island populated by circe and her two sisters yin and yang. It was like the crystal noise from Zimmerman’s lyre and moaning of monica. There were the hebrews and the Romans and Celtic tribe as well, but I walked with silk guns and white arab charger to unite the world on one great drunken boat

or: I went eating and wine tasting at Tribecca festival. If you want to be treated well in life, I suggest you roll with beautiful Korean women, you’d be surprised what people will give you for free, just because of those lovely smiling eyes. Then off to the temple on the mount for Noahs Barmitzvah… havanagela and MORE wine and food and dancing of the horah and on and on. You cant make this sort of stuff up. It is just wild eyed JOY…. Be Attitude and Beat Less.

This is Harry Twep… an Id character that I drew on a retreat when I was maybe thirteen years old, or so… ironic…. My mom scanned it for a my fortieth birthday card. She’s some kind of witch or something… I mean that in a good way.

city scape by Brian Raszka, Xfactor stencil was sent by CMIII


spent the weeks and days mixing potions and notions in Venetian glass bottles where Jean Jeanie crickets once lived and the the small icecream cone of lead and lusterous jewels were stored. I waved my jazz hands and tapped three times with the torah reading stick of Elder and Larch and Low and behold the scream rainbow burst forth and landed on my members only and I became very large and then later very small where in I went into the earch beyond the shadow cave to a great rank garden and in the dirt there I found shiny rocks and precious metals. I believe these were treasures that Dennis Wilson had thrown off his yacht in drunken fits of paranoia. His ghost told me once: “No man is poor, if he has a half a million dollars in gold and silver sitting in the sand and choral beneath his yacht… you just dive down and retrieve you treasure… he never cam back, but who can blame him… on the other side, he was whole and the band was still together and brian and him wrote a whole album together called Silver Surfer, or something, but I digress. With the above mentioned treasures, I made a fetsh in the rank garden. I am casting my spell. A Wizard at work.

Meanwhile, back in the real real world I am going to Tribecca food and wine walk and then back up the mountain to break bread in the Temple and dance the Horah and drink the wine and form a quarum around Noah who will build an arc some day.

in progress… watch a learn uncle alex watch a learn.

Did you ever finda bottle that told you “Drink Me” and you did and you fell down a rabbit whole and then you burned down the house and a wolf left you in a cave of shadows and wine and skulls and bones? Did this ever happen to you? Cause that more or less describes my day and she said yes to yes and I called her my Andalusian rose Yes……Yes is the answer yes to yes yes? yes yes yes yes, wash rinse repeat yes? yes please cum some on my eyedea…. which is my way of learning Korean wink wink nudge nudge say no more.

BREAK LEGS KING CONNIE

This is a digi overwrite on a piece of street art that I gingerly removed from the Members Only club on Fifth Ave. It is not really Ali it is Alexali/KIMBO. I am thinking about acting and fighting today. I called my favorite star who is rehearsing Shakespeare in New Jersy right now …. in fact it goes up tomorrow which is why he is pissed at me… Even though I, or rather Ben used Henry V in our improv, when I actually got Connie on the phone I said Lear:… like Lear, he went into a huff and hung up on me. I really felt shitty, because the fact of the matter is I was so into my own game, that I have neglected to help him play his. So Do me a favor and buy tickets for Henry V here/ and take the beautiful drive over the Pulaski Skyway (like a true Soprano) and see his show. Go back stage and tell David Conrad Alexandre David Itin sent you… oh and bring a little something, like some wine, or flowers… Henry the fifth has been known to kill a man.

I’d wanted to tell him I was in the ring with the better half, but instead got in the ring with him AGAIN!. Acting is boxing. I made a vid poem to wish Connie broken legs. It is my short take on a fabulous Carl Sandburg Poem

THis clip is so good. Someone should show it to David Bowie who I only saw play live once at Madison Square Garden on the Glass Spiders tour. He had I believe his old guitarist playing.. whose name escapes me… a black dude… rocks as hard as anyone on earth and then some… I mean Bowies has had some good guitarists and thought there is debate about the second half of his career… well… Stevie Ray Vaughn (who I’d like to point out I’ve out lived..by a few years now… but then I will never ever ever play a guitar as well as he did even on Let’s Dance.. which actually is a really underrrated album because people don’t quite get IGGY pop YET… because the fucking ivy league rock critic ass holes all say he’s too POP… dude … it is America is it not?… but I digress)… think the name is a Zed name

one of eno’s finds no doubt.

How good was Roxy Music?

So good…

let’s not forget their versionsof Neil Young’s Hurricane…. blah blah blah Dylan.

ME? “naaaaaaaaaw” from Alex Itin on Vimeo

My better half once told me a story of how a guy trying to make a move in highschool on her asked the H.S. Radio D.J. to play Bowie’s verion of IGGY POP’s China Girl (for the record, both bowie and Pop were dating Asian women at the time.. and I think Iggy married his and she got him off the smack in a way that Bowie and eno never could, but then Bowie married a man, or rather IMAN, but I digress). She was shocked and offended by this,but let’s face it… that is a fuck of a great song, but it is way to intimate for a first mixed race date, and way way way way to intimate for a never dated, detached sound… she was mortified and not even Chinese, but I still think the China refers to porcelain dolls not CHINA, but I’m not certain this would help his case. I hesitate to post this.. The Sarah Silverman joke:
I’m no racist: I love Asians… or something like that.

There seems to be a trend on flicker and vimeo, etc. of Young Asian Women photographing themselves as models… but model artists. I wonder if this is at all realted to Cindy Sherman, or Laurie Anderson, or maybe the flux fluke of Yoko Ono (bar none the most famous Asian Woman in the world… to be followed by Tokyo Rose? or what? Gong Li? All great looking). whatever the explanation, I support the…(cough cough) trend…How much? Sooooooo Much….that said, I miss the better half, like I’d miss my legs should you decide to blow them off with an IED…. and why would you want to do a shitty thing like that.

Thomas Aquinas once told me (in a book) that the revolution of Jesus Christ can be summed up in one sentance: “Love thy neighbor as thyself”.

Now most of my neighbors are Jews or mixed religious marriages (is it possible that we are the only couple not married…no…. it is probable)… but can I tell you something: I really have fallen in love with the people in my COOP… doesn’t happen often, but wow…. these are people you acutally enjoy cooperating with…they bring you music and coffee and wine and song and drums and guitars and …. well I’m not much on testiments, but I’d like to testify… that bit of Jesus works for me.. and plus he takes out the trash… god bless Jesus.

Very last minute art show at FLUXart… TONIGHT
547 Broadway #5 btween Spring and Prince…. after seven till the wine and movies run out… probably show Orson Whales as well as some nice related paintings.

My better half is off to Vegas for a couple of days, so I made her this love song with the help of my two favorite art pupils, or rather art teachers… or whatever. Found some random still shots on my camera from the old IT IN space SoHo… my old gallery/painting/t.v. studio. Long story, but it was a fun year if not for Bush starting the fucking war… three years now?, but I digress. Here is the truth as I see it. Kids rock (When you can give them back to their parents after words), dogs rock, Nick Cave rocks, poetry rocks, painting rocks, rocks rock, cherry blossoms rock hard, but my girl rules and I aint nothin’ but a bad seed in a beautiful world… but I’m trying to be beautiful seed and the world keeps trying to be bad.

Monkey Book 2 was a rather mind blowing lecture by artist/information engineer and all round great guy, Brad Paley… this is sort of a Mother’s day card meets portrait of the artist as a success story, rant of a lunatic, art history lesson… or something?: you tell me.

Music is a mash up of Animal Collective, some annoying kid kicking the subway seat with glorious train glee, and The one and only John Lennon and his fabulous Beatles, produced by Phil Spector if you can believe it Jackson Pollock.

http://wbpaley.com/brad/biosImagesCvs.html

http://monkeytownhq.com/monkeybook2.html
W. Bradford Paley has been doing visual work on computers since 1973, has been recognized for contributions to the design and art worlds (e.g. at MoMA and the Whitney, by NYSCA and NYFA). He practices in New York City and often teaches at Columbia University. For details see didi.com/brad.

post in progress… tune back later.

image: Library Project collab of driftwould and Bradley Wind… AKA driftwind (Say I).

The video is a little stream of conciousness musical riff on Dylan and the Kinks… it is a gesture towards two new film projects I’m “Writing” in hopes of “shooting”… or remixing stuff shot. I’m trying to blog, but also make “serious” or “finished” works. Can’t talk about art without throwing quotes arround everything. Why is that?
The painting is on a cigar box top and is obviously influenced by seeing deKooning and Rauchenberg at the MET, and the Bugattis at Allan Stone Gallery… However, the biggest influence is all these damn wonderful cherry blossoms.

This I’ve been using as ambient video on the wide screen i-mac. In i-movie HD it makes a nice musical, visual eye/ear candy for drawing, or scanning, or whatever. You can dowload it and play the quicktime on full screen, or watch it in VLC, or i-tv….

Just meaningless beauty, but when is beauty meaningless?

Or was that the night before last? This is my preBday Kunst Krawl in search of Moby Picasso vlog. to quote the painter, “That Bastard never missed a fucking trick!”.

The book is a finsish of my start from Bob in Austin Texas… details following….anyways, Always a treat to look at Pablow while ipodding Miles in the MET… the Pace cubist cinema show goes a long way towards proving the obvious (though somehow I think Arne Glimcher wants to take credit for Picasso and the fourth dimension…. which is just absurd…. but fuck of a great show and I suggest you see it). Then the Met Barcelona show where I ran into some fierce Picasso and Miro and a chair I remember from Allan Stone’s Office. Sweet Little thing and so I ran off to look at de Kooning and then up to Allan Stone Gallery to see a few of his rare Bugattis. Seeing deKooning and then a Bugatti made surprising sense. Then I ate and drank wine at Rosewater. It’s good to be the King.

This is more or less a birthday gift to myself. I’ve been drawing it on every page of Moby Dick (using two books to get both sides of each page) for months. The soundtrack is built from searching “moby dick” on You Tube (I was looking for Orson’s Preacher from the the John Huston film), I couldn’t find the preacer, but you find tons of Led Zep and drummers doing Bonzo and a little Orson reading from the Novel for a failed Italian T.V. film…… makes for a nice Melville in the end.

Cinqo de Mayo I turn Forty. Ahhhhhhh the French Champagne.

another cigar box abstract…. weird ab ex Persian miniatures, or something. This one points to beautiful Cern, Switzerland, where they are building the worlds lagest super collider…. there to see the big bang, made very very small… we hope….(insert apocolyptic song here…Door’s “The End” perhaps?). In another nodd to French politics/art films… Here’s the election from the eyes of Binjam in Nantes, France. Follow the vimeo link back to his page and check out his amazing animations.

another cigar box abstraction I’m working on… went all red after looking at the gate in the Japanese garden and I just stumbled on Remmmy’s May first video on Vimeo. Thought they belonged together being all red and all.