Illusions, Delusions, and Things in Between

Some will tell you that the basic things in life are respect and love, which makes my crusade for fantasticality that much more complicated. How can I spread universal messages about art, culture and fake tan when I am being hindered by platitudes involving devotion to a whole other human being to whom you have no biological obligation? Why go through the hardships of relationships when you can spend all that time loving the one person you know and care about the most- me. So I want you all to walk away from this post feeling stronger, healthier and more in love with me.

But, I understand that not everyone loves me. Some people find me too….what’s the word I am looking for…perfect? I guess, it will do for now. So for those of you who feel mild confusion (although it will get clearer once you really focus on it, and by “it” I mean “me”), a great place to celebrate the beginning of the Sprinter (we’re not quite at Spring yet, my little naïve troupers of love), is the Museum of Contemporary Photography. Those who know me, all three of you, know that I have two big passions in life: free food and free drinks. But, a very close second is free dessert. BUT! A very close third is photography, and the current exhibition is no exception. Watch out for some of the most important Contemporary photographers right now. The works explore the relationship between architecture, photography, and reality. My favorites were Alexander Apostol’s turning of dilapidated buildings with antiquated revolutionary ties into inaccessible if precious porcelain houses. Equally brilliant and touching was Dionisio Gonzalez’ exposure of the subsequent failure in many government-sponsored urban projects; Chris Mottalini subtle meditation on loss and memory; and Josef Schulz’s eerily quiet Utopian scenes, which draw on the dangerous quest for the ideal. And by ideal, you guessed it, I mean me.

The Building Pictures exhibit will run through May 31st.


Dionisio Gonzalez


The MoCP’s very own and very lovely Eva Deitch, who was not too blinded by my dazzling tan, and was wonderfully helpful.

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