What I Remember (About GD4)

Posted on May 13, 2009 by Varg

Here’s what I can recall off the top of my head about Geek Dinner iv. This will show my ineptitude at placing names and events in anything more than an abstract nature.

– There was a cake with a photo of Karl Rove on it. (This isn’t my original joke it was I think G-Bitch’s)

– There was a sleeping Dangerblond in a chair with pretty good posture. Revelers continued unabated.

– Jeffrey and Menkles told stories of Paris.

– There was some awesome shrimp and grits and I knew at the time who made them but have since forgotten. Hypnotisim could certainly help me remember.

– Patrick told stories of RSD and U of G.

– I brought a bottle of Jimmy Beam and never saw it again.

– There was copious amounts of Schlitz.

– The ginger was in full bloom.

– Again, there was trouble placing who the swimming ’80s celebrities in Danger’s bathroom were.

– It was determined that Jeffrey has huge arms. Presumably from lifting books?

– Peter was described by Lisa’s son as being “jolly” one time at Croissant Dior and this confounds me. Pastries must be the secret ingredient to his happiness.

– Go to Fahey’s with Jeffrey and Menckles at your own risk.

– After starting early that day and then just plowing through till morning I had the type of hangover that has not reared its ugly head since the ’90s.

3 thoughts on “What I Remember (About GD4)”

jeffrey says:

May 13, 2009 at 4:20 pm

No no it’s from lifting Schlitz… or maybe that’s where the belly comes from. Anywhoo I believe the shrimp and grits were Mominem’s. And having been a pastry at the party doesn’t seem to make Rove particularly “jolly” either (although he is quite pasty) so I question pastries as the secret to happiness.
alli says:

May 13, 2009 at 4:35 pm

Now, hold up just a second. Patrick… talked about *Georgia*? Knock me over with a feather, why dontcha.

And yes, the shrimp & grits wuz Mominem’s. They wuz gooooood.
liprap says:

May 13, 2009 at 6:33 pm

Yes, the Schlitz was also Mominem’s contribution.

Pasties? WHAT pasties? On a sleeping DB? This is what I miss when I have to head home with an overtired little guy…

And I had a theory about the threaded Abita beer bottles for screw tops being more expensive, but I think now that Abita decided to switch just to be a buncha beer-producing schmuckeroos.

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Rejoice!

I say that a lot. I sign many pieces with it. I do this because I believe our lives are a true happenstance. A brilliant occurence from nothingness. We are so rare. We are so unlikely. And simply being born isn’t enough. From there we must survive, endure. So each morning, after our Sun departs and is reborn again. Please, for the sake of your ancestors and the Universe in general, hoist that cup of joe up and say, “Rejoice.”

Ours is a soulful existence. No matter how many McMansions, polyester fabrics, auto-tunes, modified foods and social networks we surround ourselves with, we are all still native, passionate beings made of ancient matter. We are organic and we have soul.

Wood also has a warm, soulful quality. Wood has a memory. It retains smells, traumas, events. It even has a calendar. This is why I have chosen it as my medium, for its old soul. I like to think the wood in my work is in its third incarnation. First a tree, then a home and now art. If you have a room that needs a little soul, get a piece. A room can never have enough soul.

My inspiration and subject matter comes from many sources, among them: Humanism, old ballads, trickster tales, flora and fauna, science, myths and folklore, stringed instruments, brass bands, amber spirits, lady vocalists, general relativity and quantum mechanics. Some of my pieces are there just to make a short, simple statement about what’s important in life. Some are more diffuse and abstract in meaning. A personal drama, an enduring line from a poem or novel, a poignant song lyric, the legacy of an important person, a fleeting thought … these are the subjects of my art.

I use hearts often because they are a very abstract way of depicting the human soul without also employing the very subjective human form. The symbolic heart is an apt representation for a person’s experience and essence. A body can immediatly conjure happiness, sorrow, youth, age, anger, bliss. These emotions can get in the way. Sometimes it’s simply about the experience.

I am the son of a sailor and a social worker, the grandson of a gypsy, a dancer and a nurse. I spent my youth moving from port city to port city, watching a lot of road go by and reading World Book Encyclopedia. After my parents settled down on the Gulf Coast, I was a miscreant youth, destroying cars and taking the wrongs things too seriously and the right things not serious enough. Eventually I began replacing my imagination with experience.

I will use any salvaged wood but prefer swamp cypress and longleaf heartwood pine.

I despise waste. Particularly the waste of organic matter. Trees are magnificent. They were here before we arrived and they’ll be around after we are gone. I’m making an effort to save as much wood as possible. Creating art is fun too. But beyond communicating with folks, but beyond making money ad providing for myself, beyond rescuing flooded parts, beyond reveling in the ethereal aroma of heartpine that hasn’t seen the light of day in 400 years, beyond all that, I am trying to make a simple comment on waste.