So I was deep in the heart of Texas. For some reason a lot of people have a lot of problems with a lot of what Texas has going on. But I think its a pretty happening spot. Lots of stuff to do, nice down home type folks, and a lot of geographic and social diversity, and a shit load of swimming holes. Its really not that bad, its actually not bad at all.
Got to hang out with my boy Buffalo for a few days in Houston. Its kind of a huge sewer of a city. Hot and sprawling and with no rain for over 30 days there wasn't much water to be had in the bayou city. We went to the Rice University Installation Gallery to see this crazy found wood chrysalis installation by Henrique Oliveria .
We also went to Austin on a Tuesday...and it was dead. No shows, no OK mountain, no youth culture to be seen. Thanks to the nice folks at Decoder Ring, the peter pan pitch and putt, Barton springs, and a shit load of Loan Star beer it all worked out for the best.
Thanks to Sake Bellinis I got into several drunken conversations with Buffalo's Friends who are all artist types, designers, or gallery curators. One was about the relevant necessity of Graffiti to Gallery cross overs that have been happening a lot lately. Mostly the discussion was about Shepard Fairy and the then new Banksy show at the Bristol Museum. My argument was that nothing purchased at a museum that is made by a graffiti artist will ever be as relevant and therefor less valuable as a piece in or taken from the street. When we got back to the house that Buffalo was house sitting at I found this on the wall in the guest house, over a crap T.V. where most people would never even notice it which really just drives my point home.
apparently its legit. An original Keith Haring wheat paste removed from an NYC subway terminal. I really wouldn't shut up after I saw this literally 10 minutes after we had that discussion how fucking topical can you get.
After that I went to Port Aransas and hung out with my extended family. Nothing like 6 days in a remote hotel room with 19 of my closest kin to make me realize there is good reason we only have reunions once a year.