Tuesday, March 21, 2017

traffic my unfinished website

like an unfinished basement,
worse?

unfurnished bedroom



<follow here>

performance bleeds in too

if you pass the first tears, we never have to blink again.
if you pass the first tears, we never have to blink again.
if you pass the first tears, we never have to blink again.
if you pass the first tears, we never have to blink again.
if you pass the first tears, we never have to blink again.
if you pass the first tears, we never have to blink again.
if you pass the first tears, we never have to blink again.
if you pass the first tears, we never have to blink again.
if you pass the first tears, we never have to blink again.
if you pass the first tears, we never have to blink again.
if you pass the first tears, we never have to blink again.
if you pass the first tears, we never have to blink again.
if you pass the first tears, we never have to blink again.
if you pass the first tears, we never have to blink again.
if you pass the first tears, we never have to blink again.
if you pass the first tears, we never have to blink again.
if you pass the first tears, we never have to blink again.
if you pass the first tears, we never have to blink again.
if you pass the first tears, we never have to blink again.
if you pass the first tears, we never have to blink again.
if you pass the first tears, we never have to blink again.
if you pass the first tears, we never have to blink again.
if you pass the first tears, we never have to blink again.
if you pass the first tears, we never have to blink again.
if you pass the first tears, we never have to blink again.
if you pass the first tears, we never have to blink again.
if you pass the first tears, we never have to blink again.
if you pass the first tears, we never have to blink again.
if you pass the first tears, we never have to blink again.
if you pass the first tears, we never have to blink again.
if you pass the first tears, we never have to blink again.
if you pass the first tears, we never have to blink again.
if you pass the first tears, we never have to blink again.
if you pass the first tears, we never have to blink again.
if you pass the first tears, we never have to blink again.
if you pass the first tears, we never have to blink again.
if you pass the first tears, we never have to blink again.
if you pass the first tears, we never have to blink again.
if you pass the first tears, we never have to blink again.

some smiles last longer and make your stomach ache and that is cute-embarrassing, ugly-nice, and then you are fourteen at the pool again, some after midnight shit, stars and bubbles and candy necklaces and maybe questioning alien life. alienated-and-divorce-we-now, because

normally
we remind
of first,

and
then we
full-on
disappointment,

but
imma
make you
into my
fist

me and katie bonding over birth fights

momentary move from mannie.
this is relevant.
 

Sunday, March 19, 2017

Repeat: my love is embarrassing

YouTube channel on how to be an artist, "artist", wannabe, w/e...just videos of me screaming because I've ruined $100 of mirror film, of me crying because I've broken another sheet of glass in my hands, me looking dazed and crouched like Gollum in my studio while an Adam & Eve commercial plays on Pandora trying to decide if I can still shoot video even though I accidentally gave myself at-home microdermabrasion while trying to scrub off peelable lipstain that I used like a facial mask (boy, is my face red-hahaha, so nerd).

Videos of me applying for 'jobs' by cropping photos, writing posts on FB, privating them and putting them on my poetry blog (I've written over 200 poems this year--see how productive that sounds), drinking coffee and playing on Photoshop for 2 hours in the morning before having to do anything else, getting to use my body strength, getting my hands dirty, getting to call memorizing and reciting and making people listen to me speak a performance, getting to use my brain (which isn't the case for all work ethicals), being valued for my voice and pov and ideas and opinions and antagonism (sometimes), intellectualizing that move, talking to smart and funny people all day every day, total acceptance of my criticality (on a good day)...that last one is beautiful. *more acceptance in our space than so many, and it is important to be critical and socially aware of your environment (and don't worry we am) but holy fuck, I'm gonna miss academia. Sentimental me.
 

rollerdrome, I turned it into a Poem

I will honor this by wearing mascara tonight and letting my tears run a trail for every time they didn't call on my 80s-style phone. *stood up at prom face*

I'm going to start a club night called +stood up at prom+ and we will listen to new wave and rollerblade and dress goth and/or candy raver and photograph each other crying while holding glossy black party balloons.

I'm going to start another club night called *running with scissor sisters* and it will be a 24 hour sleepover and we will listen to 80s pop (but only 24 songs on repeat for an entire hour each) and rollerblade and eat non-dairy ice cream while we skate. On a cone. Sticky floors.

Saturday, March 18, 2017

editing w/o permissions:

Numbers game. Language is important. When content is cut down, intention can be lost. I appreciate agency over the representation of my body(of work). So, for those reading, my edited bio (which was taken down to 45 words while another has 75 in description) would have been these 63 words:  

Kevin Brophy is a reality artist: an illusion trying to change the world. Her multidisciplinary practice mimics the cultural dominant in order to evaluate socio-political power structures and their effect on the individual. She is just a placeholder; with the increasingly pervasive Social we are now more identity than self. Through exaggerated forms of communication, she critiques in a satirical and self-implicating way.

Tuesday, March 14, 2017

we market-like crash, in memories...old love of Marx

some worrisome reflection on thesis notes, and recent hits *loser*
                                                           are we also a catalyst *loser*
                                                  for self-harm and lonliness *loser*
                                     do we defund health and education *loser*

+we make children poor and sick

Site-of-self, some play with|we can't say monetization, but some lie of capital

*appropriating neoliberalist strategies to perform the self as both
self-effacing-point-to-own-indoctrination and as exaggeration-satire
for your day-to-day, since '08*

the vacuum of 'winning' will empower just in language

much like a neoliberal affect
we
are
"lonliness capital" inactivity

and symptom of choice-through-spent, some hard-end economic disparity
makes for 'loser', makes for want without dollar, someone called you a 'winner'
                                              and we hope there is at least some buyer's remorse

more personnel than FB

well...
         

guess some ppl call it visual art, let's only talk vis-a-vis my superficials. Now + on. Everything is a con job.

|getting we all nostalgic for sculpture|via 1st sculpture ever ++ so cute|light-based realization--never with physical links--never really think about those types of moves so much, always forward concept with we...even in material choice, huh|

mum asking about "the red one in the gallery"|so, 2010, or 2011?

No automatic alt text available.

Sunday, March 12, 2017

"you gotta find your spirit animal and ride it til its dick falls off"

Year2:
So productive, so excited today. Bought a thing I'm going to turn into an adult-outside-the-drugstore-coin-operated-ride-semi-brainwashing-machine, but you know, probably not coin-operated.
But, it will be fun, because "I'm confused about my politics" if you don't know how to listen--looking forward to my future designing communication devices...and being punk-as-twat-4eva (quote me--memoirs--we're all going down). Hearts.

past lives never keep us around

Text messaging your past, present, future, and mine since '15.

#volunteering #fulfilling

was free publicity

My cold heart and hot-mess-soul belong Future-Here-Now, YouareMe, ppl, pay proper tribute, in the spirit of commming, I don't exist without you.

We can. We are capable of anything. "I mean, they'll do anything. Cut. Whatever you want."

werd

Some poor, embarrassing, unfortunate souls have the thickness to treat with that

like a walking fb prof. some sentiment there. like we in realness cannot fake, or fakeness real.
roach
troll
lol

FBfails to unwind

Feeling all questionable about paths. And, just playing-cards-tarot found out all
futures lead to success. Excited for life and all mutants.

We play MASH, we get apt, LA, 250k, frog, 0kids, alone forever.
We can only dream. Horoscope my equal promising.

*in a floor-length long-sleeved closed front&back, no breathing room, towel

Just post-shower* sat on the edge of my tub and 7-min-thought about whether or not vampires eventually get Life Alert, because I bet it is less about physiological aging and more of a numbers game...live alone/out-live alone long enough. Probability, and such. We choke on apples. We slip and fall. We do hard drugs and climb a telephone pole. Probability, and such.

Some confluence of existence. We are probs a bit of a roach. Outlive 
you all. Yet still be subjected to your assumptions...so who's on tops?

sweaty bodies everywhere

hated how hateful it sounded, but we still agree with the assertions,
but we did delete this life...for the time being.
                 Am I right, or am I right?
Ppl should definitely still feel sorries for we

will. made.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=v--IqqusnNQ

*wreaking ball* let the right one in

Repeat, "Love isn't some prize you get for coming in the clown's face at the circus."

Who Killed Me?

People never question we-interest in depictions of serial killers, and
it's probably because they can tell we get killed every day. 
                                                                                             Several times.
     "Murder me. Murder me, like you.murdered mother."

whenever we feel like an unambitious, loserly slacker we remind ourselves that by the end of tonight

all FB gems (privated and sharing).
+every amazing joke we've told you (whether you laughed or not).
high anxiety (still got that brow game).
eye on that new, new coming later this (losing all minds).
*I don't think I've gone this long <like 3 months> without being
in a show/performing yet this decade. I'm scared. am I dying?*

(Refreshingly, she doesn’t become involved with any of them.)

do you think "career oriented" is mainstream movie code for asexual?

talk at me
about 
mid-aged butchies 
and their lack of visibility again.

smh, both are valid.

obliterate we gender. role


Ranch hand is lonely,
is quiet,
is sad,
desires     (and not desired),
but not 'desperate"
(in that shared-gendered-language way)

is rather fucking invasive as hell, yet without anger nor entitlement.

why certain women when last two characters are defined more by economic class than anything else

I just can't with this title, and it's obviously good and depressing, it's KR.
It just, it just sounds like something Adam Brody would play in, where he idealizes some object-of-desire, where his stalkerly tendencies are romanticized as Maroon5 plays in the distance via the mid-late 2000s.

*there are stalkerly tendencies in this film, but they are not rewarded*
New horror movie poster!
I'm really into screen printing rn. but, anyway, it is important to
have woman in grad school. You know, at least That One Bitch

Tuesday, March 7, 2017

there is some sadness and we are desperate

But. Not in the ways you'd expect.

technically pasties

You can effing quote me on this. If you are uncomfortable saying this to his face. Be like, Kevin wrote, and I quote...(return to start of email). **And then we can all laugh about it next time I see him in the hall. Because we always are with the laughter. Results are not guaranteed.

as soon as we told them that responding was unnecessary we knew it would be gameplay

And now they never answer,   wrong move.
Right move,  answer in wistful superfluous.

their pain is my worry, but not with pains, because that just isn't a thing. that 1:1 ratio isn't based in any reality, ever

we have no clue what you are feeling
even through articulation, that wound     could never be worthy in narcissism    and
the conception that I knew what was best all along

We Are So Cold

we don't even acknowledge death, close
around us. some death with caused pain

own existence, is numbing hierarchies, is with death not the usurper
your child would have been beautiful and too good with absorbing ]
some self-importance from we [ we want your love to survive, but
not in the ways you would hope. sometimes survival is about solitude

all is said in criticality as-in-late--

+distance makes...me forget what I liked in the first place?

12 hours. sleep-in-bodysuit, tension. snaps

we are running on animal, no magnetism
*there is no feeling let in this body*





tuesday,tuesday,tuesday

wave, the universe reminds you
completely in control at all times.
feel inspired to resist this reality,

an emotionally complicated day.
sit face-to-face with old skeletons,
or negative childhood patterns. a
forceful person of lashing out, look

within. a moment of awareness.

Thursday, March 2, 2017

astrologers don't respect deadlines

Five heavenly bodies visit Aries in March

hilarious with awareness. acute in self. obtuse what else

Ever question...someone is testing your abuse acceptance,
Like, with a perpetual system of harm-turn-reward, their terms?
What skewed reward: reblog. retweet. repeat. follow me, follower.

Also, ever, kind of think it is funny and long-ago decided to see how it pans out.<no question>

your march horoscope is here

All respecting Kusama, in a top-down: payment is political. Art, if you have a brain...whoa sentiment. With all hopes, we only want to make the selfie-able and never be dismissed as insurance fraud.