Lorna Mills and Sally McKay
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My first email this morning(ish) had this link:Tour de France hit by massive doping scandal
Damn those stoners on bikes.(it's rather rich that I'm complaining)
My friend A.B. refers to them as the "Thunderous Thighs of Europe", I'm in it for the garish colours, the scenery, improving my babelfish French skills and best of all, the crashes. (I also think it's brilliant that the whole Peloton jumps off their bikes at the same time to pee in the woods.)
Fuck them all for picking on Lance all these years.
Landwasserschlepper
This weekend I am going back to the woods. Then I'm going to Kingston to install for the exhibition Neutrinos They Are Very Small. If you happen to be in Kingston on the evening of July 7th, come to our opening at the Agnes Etherington Art Centre.
Sadly, I am going to miss the opening tomorrow night at YYZ of the massive multi-volume artists' book Ice Fishing in Gimli by Rob Kovitz. I have seen some earlier stages of the project and its great: a sort of mashed up narrative archive of weird ephemera that compiles (and compiles and compiles) into a many dimensioned tome. Or set of tomes. According to the blurb, it tells of "...drownings, freezings, murder and cannibalism; of alien architectures, bizarre conveyances, enigmatic soothsayers and esoteric ice-fishing techniques; of the search for enlightenment, the poignancy of fish-flies and the indeterminacy of maps; of Gimli-born Arctic explorer Vilhjalmur Stephanson and prairie writer and double-agent Frederick Philip Grove; of boredom, failure, madness, nothingness, unrequited love, best-laid plans, the Wandering Jew, the House of Squid and mysterious things that may or may not be hidden beneath flat, frozen surfaces, to name a few things." Opening starts at 8:00, YYZ Artists' Outlet.
Luckily I will be back in Toronto for the urban park pool art extravaganza called WADE (July 7-9) . I had a blast at the last WADE and we will be zipping home from Kingston to catch as much of this one as we can. All the details are here.
For now, adieu. I leave you, dear readers in the capable hands of L.M. (hey! I can hear your cheers of joy. I know she's funnier than me but you could at least let me get out the door before you start celebrating...)