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Posts from the ‘art’ Category

Gang Banged by Sound

Sound. As I type to the hum of traffic, the cross-hatch of MTM's pen, the pulse of keys, I sob and wish sound weren't a thing.

I know people who are virtually deaf. I don't wish for that fate or mean to diminish their disability.

But I am waterboarded by the sound of my own voice. People want to hear me read my memoir.

Or they *think* they do.

They don't know a theater critic once eviscerated my speaking voice in a review. "Etched in acid," he crowed.

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Mommy, You Hurted My Penis!

It happens. When a boy is three.

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I’m A Faded Musical Star

A long time ago, in a galaxy far, far away, I starred in a play. A musical called "South Pacific." Perhaps you've tried to Wash That Man Right Out Of Your Hair while having Some Enchanted Evening falling In Love With a Wonderful Guy on Bali H'ai?

No?

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A Sea of Voices From the Past

You've probably never heard of him. Unless you're a serious photographer.

from the Wynn Bullock website
I went to the Wynn Bullock retrospective at the High Museum of Art in Atlanta, expecting 100 photographs that mimicked Ansel Adams, his more famous contemporary.

Instead, I found myself alone. Wandering three galleries of otherworldly photographs. Unlike anything. Unique.

Would it be weird to admit some of the images called to me?

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Sex With Cars

MTM used to race cars. With people who went on to become actual NASCAR drivers. He worked as a mechanic through high school and college, when his prized possession was a 1969 Oldsmobile Cutlass W-31.

(I had to google it too, Dear Reader.)

So.

Why did I find myself in a museum exhibit called "Dream Cars" last week?

Alone??

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