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	Dear Diary,	Aug. 02-Now

	March 1 - August 1, 2003
	Just A Teaser Among the major things I've done since last we met was to attend my friend's (work acquaintance) latest off-Broadway theater production: "A Normal Life." Cheryl Lane-Lewis is one of many stage performers that I have know who just keeps at it no matter what or where the venue is. I've been to a little community space in St. Albans, Queens, as well as one in North Plainfield, NJ those are the farthest points east and west that I've traveled to see shows that she's been in and well as places in Manhattan. I always enjoy the results and the latest was no exception other than that it was the best so far, and, it was in a theater space just around the corner on 42 Street near Manhattan Plaza. So any time I post one of her shows you must go, you won't regret it and you can dress up or down as you wish--don't forget it's THEATRE and all forms of par- ti- ci- pation is not only appreciated but expected (what do you think they make tuxedos for in the first place? Note: I did not wear a tux.)
	I also did not attend the "Black Party" at Roseland this year (black means you should wear black (preferably leatherish although there is no door policy to deny anyone entry who isn't) it starts at 10pm Saturday and goes to 4pm Sunday, so because of my Sunday class I couldn't go. What would I have worn? Well I choose alternative looks so for instance the last time I went I wore black and white camoflage.
	Speaking of my class I have finished and now possess a certificate stating so--I am an official Web Master/Administrator with no where to go, thank you terrorist/corporate slime. But, this is my third recession and I do expect it to end soon (the others did) and I'll achieve my goals. Whatever they are, I really don't have any goal--the sun rises, sets, Pluto is a planet then it's not, "first there is a mountain, then there is no mountain, then there is…" But, ya gotta do something, and web stuff is really interesting and combines all the stuff I've learned over the years from graphic production to database management to a bit of programming and design--I'm here, I can do it here or there and I assure you as fast and competently as the next person If not more so.
	I designed the art for the logo, poster, post card invitation, display ad and web banner ad for "TRIBE" (another fundraiser for amfAR's Treatment Directory.) I can't thank Candida enough for opening this opportunity to me, it keeps me thinking and my stuff has had an impact on the events (also Alchemy) identity (we are not talking branding here). In a way much like the Natural History Groups web site which has had a tremendous effect on the Groups presence in the community by bringing in new people and creating a forum for sharing information. There is still lots more work to do there, soon I'll be adding some dHTML (dynamic html) features to the site and we will start some sort of online forum--all to come. TRIBE is a Pride Weekend party and all monies raised go to amfAR and a fantastic Fan/Flag friendly event that has become an essential part of NYC PRIDE.
	I have finally faced the state of my teeth and am seeing a new dentist who uses lasers. I WILL NEVER GO TO ANY OTHER TYPE OF DENTIST AGAIN. This one is younger than me so I shouldn't have to worry about ever looking for another one and she's close by on 59 Street. You should see them so far, they are almost normal.
	Well let's repeat the last paragraph of our last installment: I would like to become the administrator of a site providing the above, something more info based as opposed to product, but hey, "times is hard and foods is short" (quote overheard in the bread aisle of the A&P on Myrtle Avenue around the corner from the Pratt Institute dorms in Brooklyn, New York circa 1974) and I have to eat, exercise, dance and purchase coffee from Starbucks.
	OK, now for the dirty bits. I joined Manhattan Plaza Heath Club, they have the nicest 75 foot pool on a glassed in deck and no piped in music--heaven. More heaven is the two whirlpools also on the deck one is hotter than the other and all is good. Except, that is for the steamroom. No the room is good, not too hot and even if some crazy Russians show up it can't be forced up to 200 degrees ferenheit. No I'm referring to the clientelle, specifically the wrinkled and less so but still problematic they, that are way over weight. I'm a very tolerant person and I have never done more than raise an eyebrow to randy behavior in steamrooms but here I have to own up to some bigotries. No matter how I try I cannot sit dispassionately by while geriatrics pleasure themselves. I have tried to deliberately look away but once seen it's like burned in the brain, and I'm not even going to mention the sight of some near obese guy... You know there is a reason that porn packaging doesn't feature such people. In the main aisles that is, I'm sure it exists I just don't ever want to see it, like the musical "CATS" or morning TV news.
	Maybe I'm being to critical of others, it might just be some signal I'm giving out all un-be-knowinst-like. But if that were true then I would be treated such behavior from um, more desireable bodies in the fog. However the percentages don't play out. Yeah there is the occassional bod, but it is a busy place and I just can't understand why when it's some old fart or really fat pig not a sole shows up for what seems an eternity then, a desired situation pops up and it's Grand Central at noon. Life can really suck--oddly enough.
	You know I have been doing other things but I'll save them for next time, oh when I run I'm up to 6 miles and I'm 179 lbs. What's next hair plugs? Mmmm what color?

	September 15, 2001 - March 3, 2002
	Start All Over Again? Ok, time is marching on and one has to resolve how the events that throw a monkey wrench into ones life are going to affect it. Without leaning too much on the trauma that may well be the defining act of the 21st Century, I have to admit that it has sent my life into limbo. My freelance work has almost totally dried up, and I had had a substantially large and diverse list of companies for whom I worked, from design firms to publishers to ad agencies who serviced the entertainment, business, and medical/pharmaceutical industries not to mention in-house art departments. But, all these enterprises have slammed the door on budget expansion and have actually slashed existing budgets to the extent that if there is no one available do a job do to sickness or vacation or attrition it will either wait or go onto another employees plate. So no one is using freelancers in the same capacity as last year--even now in the heart of "financial season" (Annual Reports).
	So I find myself not particularly enthused when I wake and I don't have the interest in sharing or even making for myself through creative energy/foolery any diversions. Short of enjoying music via dancing and maintaining this and the Natural History Groups web sites I seem to focus solely on exercise and coffee.
	I did attend the "White Party" at Roseland (white means you should wear white although there is no door policy to deny anyone entry who isn't in white), and I designed the art for the logo, poster, post card invitation, display ad and web banner ad for "Alchemy 4" (a fundraiser for amfAR's Treatment Directory.) At both I used my new fans the ones I made back in June but haven't used till now, and I stayed very much to myself zoning out to the music. The music at both events was excellent, this years White Party much improved with Alchemy being the better--DJs Michael Duretto, and Carlos Pedraza really know how to mix dance music as opposed to psyche-out noise or continental drone. I zoned out totally, carving and defining space with my fans, (which are fluorescent under black light) like-a-just, er, this side of demented Asian influenced sober and aging Isadora Duncan-but in great physical shape!
	Not that employment or my career has ever held much interest for me, but I do make the effort to keep abreast of the times and I go for educational boosters every time I see changes coming or catching up to me. I have been taking a course in "web administration" it covers html to e-commerce including Microsoft's active server pages (the trend, cgi will be passé real soon) and security, this certificate course is for my eventual move into that area. Of course I intend to continue to do print stuff but less than last year (definitely more than this year, see above). I really love how immediate web art is, also how universally available it is, yes there are a few hitches with things like flash and other movie formats because of speed and memory limitations but in general it is a very egalitarian medium leaving the quality of access to it strictly in the hands of the user. I'm not sure where it will lead me but I like formatting information which I try to make as thorough and even fun as possible and I like teasing the user to dig deeper into it. It's the kind of mind control that is a two way street, you are trying to manipulate them into visiting and revisiting and they are manipulating what you do by whether or not they respond.
	So I would like to become the administrator of a site providing the above, something more info based as opposed to product, but hey, "times is hard and foods is short" (quote overheard in the bread aisle of the A&P on Myrtle Avenue around the corner from the Pratt Institute dorms in Brooklyn, New York circa 1974) and I have to eat, exercise, dance and purchase coffee from Starbucks. There's more to tell but most has been buried it will have to be excavated.

	September 11-15, 2001
	Death The number of missing people is topping 4,900 now, now being four days after the terrorists hijacked and crashed two passenger jets into the towers of the World Trade Center. I wasn't there, by NYC standards not even close, I was at home on West 51st. street getting ready to start the day, getting dressed.
	I turned on the local news (NY1) to their usual screen logo, time and weather and a shot of the North Tower of the WTC with flames and smoke pouring out the upper floors. It didn't really take at first, I was looking at the weather and thinking about my clothes for the day, the drone of the commentator and burning tower were strangely unreal and I would figure out what was happening but first I needed my socks. I sat down in the middle of dressing and became transfixed, dumbfounded in one sock and no shirt the story became apparent--some sort of explosion had occurred but the news commentator was as unclear as I to the situation. I changed the station until I stopped at one with a close-up of the tower (NBC channel 4) but they also seemed "out-of-it" and I still remained puzzled but riveted to the image of the blazing tower. While staring at the screen in stupefaction a huge plane appeared on the right side and sailed into the other tower--it was so surreal, it happened, it happened in front of our eyes and at that moment and for a few seconds afterward the news commentators said nothing about it, as if they had not been watching. The rest of the events, the collapsing towers one after the other I viewed in shocked amazement.
	As yet I am still fortunate in that no one I know was in either of the buildings or jet planes. I have worked (freelancing) in the north tower, but that was years ago, I never returned because I grow depressed and moody in spaces void of windows. It seems all businesses with in-house art departments literally have them within the house and away from natural light--I don't like that. I tell you that because it is true and not to make a personal "close call" type connection, I don't need to find fulfillment that way, my imagination is more than adequate in that department.
	Now all I think about is the family and friends of the these missing people as they wander the streets with photos and home made flyers looking for them, anything about them, something, a miracle to rejoice or something solid to cry over.
	Now all I think about is those poor people, those who were blown to pieces at the moment of impact, those who were blow out the windows with the first ball of fire, those who were incinerated on the spot, those who suffocated on the fumes and inhaled flames, those trapped alive on the upper floors, those trapped alive in the elevators, those crushed to death fleeing down the endless stairs, the rescuers crushed to death running up to their aid, crushed to death in the streets below helping and being helped and the wretched on the roofs and at the windows choosing to leap to their deaths holding each other--one last touch before oblivion.
	Now all I think about is the family and friends who answered their phones that morning, their loved one was on the line "...there is a lot of smoke...there is no way out...," they needed to say "I love you" one more time. I can't remove what those last moments must have been like from my mind--nothing ever will.

	April 22, 2001 - June 18, 2001
	Morning Glory's. For twenty-odd years I've potted up morning glory's to quickly bring lots of green into my apartments. Back when I used to bartend it was specially nice to come home (after a couple of hours in an after-hours club) to a window covered in green leaves and colorful flowers. Recently (past five years) I've been in a ground floor apartment with a huge front window fronted by a huge gate--perfect for growing climbing plants and all that sun encourages more flowers. Conversely this exposure means no more plants after frost and in the height of summer, being so unshielded from the sun, they dry out fast and need watering every day. As for the watering problem I've addressed that each year by planting fewer seeds--and the result is watering has become less frequent. To insure my nice wall of green I pruned them bushier plants. Those two techniques worked and each year I've fine tuned, I give them new soil at the beginning and I don't feed them after that--sounds pretty well thought out. Well, this year I decided not to change the soil, I would feed instead and I carefully selected ten seeds, soaked them for twenty-four hours and sowed them five each into my two window boxes. With only five plants per box I will be able to go up to four days without watering. When I have to go away for a week I can fill them to the brim with water (there are no holes in the boxes) and they'll be able to go for ten days in full sun without fresh water.
	A good plan, well thought out, a plan worked out over years of experimentation--and that is why it went wrong. I kept my eye on the boxes maintaining the moisture while the seeds germinate. One day, two days, day three the first four pop their little heads out of the soil--joyousness! Day four, five, six some more pop up--oh boy, soon they go outside! Day seven yipes, there's like twenty seedlings, then more, in another day's time I cannot believe how many there are--I can't count them, I'm way to distracted by the absurdity of the situation. Because I used last year's soil instead of starting fresh I reaped what nature sowed! Those dirty little fornicators had procreated and I never saw a single bee! Now I am not trying to be cute, I live on 51st Street just west of Eighth Avenue (one and one half blocks from the Winter Garden Theater on Broadway) and there are no bees, just flies and city birds. So if it wasn't bees then it had to be what, self-pollination? So, I've been potting them up with a stick as gifts (I can't just pull and throw them out). Ya want one? Let me know, but I can't guarantee that they will behave themselves on your sill outside or in.

	April 1, 2001 - April 22, 2001
	Same old, same old. Do you remember the tape I told you I was happy with and was finished back in January? Well, I changed it, since then I stumbled across three new (to me) CDs with songs I really liked, so I decided to redo the tap--here is the new track listing:
	SIDE ONE If You Could Read My Mind, Stars On 54 Thinking Of You, Future Rhythm Now I Can Dance, Tina Arena Into The Sun, Prima Loca's Miracle, Fragma Love U More, Linda Lovelace Liberta, Lovechild When, Sunsreem Mental Thing pt2, Diver And Ace Touch Me, Rising Star	SIDE TWO Baby, Rozalla Missing, Everything But The Girl Find Your Way, Elan Spinning, Perpetual Motion I'm Not In Love, Olive Share The Love, Andrea Martin The Flame, Erin Hamilton Sweet Release, Trouser Enthusiasts Prayer, Sabatu Secrets, Sunscreem
	The title still is "Manic Thoughts, After Images."
	I know it must seem silly to place such an emphasis on them but my tapes have been my only hobby and I've been at it since the invention of the Walkman (1980?). There weren't any radio stations playing good music at the time, just classic rock, oldies, r&b classics etc..., the classical stations were undependable for continuous listening and the jazz station was into fusion need I say more? I decided to make my own tapes for the work day and it just grew to the point where I make them for traveling and running too, and in twenty years of doing so I only deliberately made them for other people twice.
	The first was for a coworker who revealed a passion for country music when she heard some Patsy Cline, I went home and put together a country tape from my music collection. Except for a Patsy Cline album I had no country music in my collection, but from Dinah Washington's cover of "Cold, cold heart" to Frank Zappa's "Lonesome Cowboy Bert" I found country tunes hidden in the most incredible places, et voila, 90 minutes of twangy virtuosi. But, I wouldn't dream of imposing such a thing on another person, you never know if they really liked it or are just being nice, and they can't even exchange it for something they would like, which would be fine with me! I go the passive-aggressive route and simply played the tape on the deck at work and let the magic happen all on it's own. And, it just so happened that I had a dupe in my bag when the request for a copy was made.
	The other tape made specifically for another person was for my niece when she was 4 or 5 years old. I made a tape of childlike music again you find things in the last places you'd expect, did you ever think such a tune would be on a Nina Simone album? How about, "The Learning Tree," folk is a really good source, The Singing Nun, Peter Paul & Mary and Odetta, the hardest part was keeping from getting cynical like adding Peggy Lee's "Is That All There Is."
	I spent most of the time since my last installment interviewing for web work through some agencies. I had a few nibbles, not much more, I'll continue to try--what else is there to do?
	Hey more work tapes, that's what!! Here is the list so far for "New Tape:"
	SIDE ONE Louise's Church, Laura Nyro Madame George, Phoebe Snow A Menina Da Gare, Silvia Torres Angel, Gavin Friday Ever So Lonely/Eyes/Ocean, Sheila Chandra The Dream Tree, Buffy Sainte-Marie The Host Of Seraphim, Dead Can Dance Buy And Sell, Suzanne Vega Brincadeira Na Fogueira, Silvia Torres Lord, I Just Can't Keep From Cryin', Phoebe Snow Tupelo Honey, Cassandra Wilson Dance, Gary Numan Frou-Frou Foxes In Midsummer Fires, Cocteau Twins Otis And Marlene, Joni Mitchell Sweet Child O' Mine, Luna	SIDE TWO Love Of The Common Man, Todd Rundgren Os V‡rias Caminhos Do Sol, Silvia Torres The Sea, Morcheeba Stoned Soul Picnic, Jill Sobule All Of My Tears, Spiritualized The Angel, Buffy Sainte-Marie Broken Rainbow, Laura Nyro Save The Country, Roseanne Cash Pomba Cor De Cal, Silvia Torres Hellhound On My Trail, Cassandra Wilson Caruso, Gavin Friday A Case Of You, Phoebe Snow Fantasy Is Reality/Bells Of Madness, Rob Wasserman/Brian Wilson/Carnie Wilson My Brother's Time, Gary Numan I'm So Proud/Dedicated To The One I Love, Laura Nyro
	A little something on the artists: Silvia Torres is a new Brazilian performer I like, the Buffy Sainte-Marie stuff is from her ground breaking album of 1969, "Illuminations." What was so innovative about it was the sampling on it. It was the first instance of recorded sampling, that's right in 1969 the engineer arranger, Peter Schickele (PDQ Bach) and Buffy sampled her voice and then used that for additional sounds all over the album it's among the most beautiful and weird recordings ever made. There is lots of Laura Nyro songs by her and other performers and lots of weird stuff.
	And finally, I've met and sexed three guys (always safely) over the last few weeks but, and I know it's me, we just don't click beyond that. Oh well, there is always tomorrow.

	March 26, 2001 - April 1, 2001
	bB>...glitz to the tits-nipples and beyond. The highlight (and in some respects low art) of my week was working as part of the stage crew at "The Night of a Thousand Gowns." A night to remember, a night fraught with glamour, despair, glitz to the tits-nipples and beyond, the end of a glorious reign, the beginning of another, a night, a night preceded by an afternoon followed by the future.
	Let's get the negativity out of the way, lighting guy sucked--couldn't screw in a light bulb with the aid of instructions a tutor and a boyscout. The sound people weren't much better, their problem seemed to come from a general lack of interest in doing the job. When the kitchen delivered the food for the non-paid crew (sound and light was paid) it was all eaten by the same sound and light crew, tacky, unprofessional oafs. Nuff' said.
	I worked Stage Right in a head-set (gave me head-ache) that was plugged into wall so my movement was restricted to about 30 feet that was adequate for the job that involved some stage cues, props and locating the occasional missing talent. The spot gave me a great spot to see the show and gauge the audience reactions.
	The show began with the same kind of Drag/Broadway stuff as their previous events, this year their theme was "Rocky Horror Show/Gothic" but most seemed to ignore it so the party community feel wasn't there, it was more like just another night in the Drag Bar. A bar catering to the well catered, who-weeee these girls ain't got nothing on sweet little Jimmy-Sue (The Last Picture Show) what a "slopv of hogs--bon-bons and tears make for obese queens, if only they had some self-esteem issues (they would worry more and eat less). I guess when they were thin, if ever, they didn't have a pretty face.
	The outgoing Empress 14 Victoria V. Weston's performance (a solo thing done entirely on the cat walk), except for a sound glitch with the wireless head mike, which forced the show to stop so she could switch to a hand-held wireless, was excellent (really the tech people...). The Emperor 10 Gabriel Della Notte's offering was more show biz with chorus line and mylar, was lots of fun, oh, I had a small off stage part to hand the crown to one of the chorus line girls--went off without a hitch.
	Didn't see her but Isabella Rosalini was there, ABC Daytime received an Award for "the fair, accurate and inclusive representation of gay...noticeable in ABC's programming lineup" Linda Dano accepted the award. There was a couple of other celebs I don't remember who they were.
	The inuaugural performances which were fabulously hot. The new Emperor: The Bad Boy Emperor of Love and Temptation, Emperor 11 Damian Valentino, theme-LOVE color-RED, the family entered in hot outfits all in red to hot sexy music (real dancers!!). The new Empress: The Latina Empress of Decadence and Style, Empress 15 Fiona James, theme-DECADENCE color-DARKish presence-DANCE, the family entered again to hot music dancing, good dancing, she the Empress was a little stiff but disability/ability is unimportant, you are Royal, you are the standard!
	I had a swell time (Beautiful Drag Queens have always been attracted to me, they get all giddy and pretty much do whatever I want, oh same goes for those guys in the "male courtly garb" not drag) so my authority as Stage Right Meister was unquestioned--if only I had had a whip, now that would have perked up the first part of the show.
	Yours in Truth & Chastity The Right Virginal Infanta de Rioja, Princess Sofia Kaduffle as testified before her "Ladies" in Waiting (waiting a long-long time) Duchess Fiona Dingle Dowager Lady Malveena Schmutz Lady Cherry Butter and The Holder of the Royal Douche, Lady Greta Clutch and her husband (by malicious arrangement of their Royal Majesties) The Protector of the Royal Enema and Chief Eunuch, Lord Dee Lord

	March 19, 2001 - March 25, 2001
	Happy Spring. I ended up with a black and white camouflage tank-top and black jeans with black studded belt as my outfit for the Black Party, I saw other camouflage pants but no tops, and I thought there would be lots of people in them. Shopping for the top turned into a major trek around town, I started on lower Broadway and Spring Street expecting to finish early, little did I know how rare camouflage tank-tops are. First I stopped at the cursed Starbucks on Spring for a venti coffee and cheese Danish, after my morning run of 5.25 miles I reward myself with caffeine and cake. I like sitting in their chairs gazing on the activity passing along Crosby & Spring (it's a nice corner) lots of couples, mixed sex and same sex participating in the same sort of tactile relationship as they window shop.
	Thanks to the lack of redevelopment the architectural scale of things in Soho is so varied the lack of green isn't as obvious to the senses. As you look around, you see sky and clouds reflected in the large windows, the same windows opening on cavernous spaces through which light pour in from other windows in the back. Being in Soho is a light and airy experience, a space you can live in easily, all cities should be zoned the same to avoid the opressive canyons like we have going up now.
	I could find no tops on Broadway so I went to Canal Street where I came up with the same, from similar store after store no camouflage tanks. I found this so hard to believe, what could be tackier than a camouflage tank-top? That being the case there should have been bins-a-plenty of them especially on Canal. Well, it's getting on 3pm and I'm getting depressed the sugar 'n caffeine is wearing off, I decide to go to 34th Street where there's K'mart, and all those other crappy clothing stores, but first I get a protein smoothy. 34th Street, to my great surprise has none--I am now resolved to go in a plain black tank and forget about it, I still have my new flags to finish painting and I have to sleep. Feeling down, and now also tired, what do I spy from the 8th Avenue bus as it crosses 42nd Street but Kaufman's Army & Navy! I thought that store went out of business decades ago, I get off the bus and in a pile of stuff in the back of the store is ta-daaaa, camouflage tank-tops!
	I finished my flags with florescent paint in a space without florescent light so I have no clue as to how they will look. In normal incandescent light the flags look dull and obviously painted, I'm thinking, well, maybe the next set will work out better, I'll just use my old ones I don't know, whatever, I need to get some sleep. I arrive at Roseland at 7am, it is wall-to-wall people plus (this place could be 20% less crowded and it would still be mobbed).
	I have a wonderful time ragfanning to the great-great music spun by Warren Gluck. It was so different from the White Party music of Morabito. Gluck mixed through hard and light disco working themes for 30 to 45 minutes he was awesome. And, so were my new flags--what a difference black lights and spots make--they were beautiful! And, do you remember the guy I told you about at the White Party? Well, he came up and spoke to me, he's not Brazilian, he's from the mid-near East somewhere and very nice we will speak again. Oh, where exactly is he from? I don't know yet--people from that part of the world act funny when you ask them, they are sensitive about it because of the turmoil--it can wait. (I used to work for a family of Iranians, they were very nice generous people who felt ostracized by the bad press due to the fundamental mental cases running things in their homeland, I liked them and would avoid the topic unless it was absolutely necessary.)
	The party went until 5pm, as did I, I had a good time, the music was GREAT--Gluck is Great--I'm looking forward to the next encounter of the Disco kind. Next time I have a story I want to tell you, Happy Spring.

	March 12, 2001 - March 18, 2001
	Fitting in. Bummer, pool closed for the upcoming week, it's time to de-clot the drains of mucous encrusted hair and to sandblast the bacteria to kingdom come. This means no swimming for me, I can't stand the other available pools, the one at 43rd street is just a glorified physical therapy bath and the one at 32nd street is like being in a kiddy pool. I guess I'll try some group exercise classes for once, we'll see just how lithe and toned I've become.
	I've spent the week looking for a vest, black, leather OK but they are $100 and up and they don't even come with a "safe word,v good gracious those old queens know how to price gouge! I can't bring myself to pay that much for something I will hardly ever wear. The Black Party is coming up, the theme is Black (clothing) with an attitude your choice domineering or subjugating--really I don't know why these guys can't learn how to share.
	Maybe I'll get a tattoo instead, I'd like a bird, a seagull, vFly silly seabird... ." No eagles-to obvious, Chinese or Japanese characters-to done, mystic stuff-can't take it seriously. If not a seagull maybe a plant like a philodendron mmmmmmm, I could lift a design from one of my old paintings? Green would look good on me.
	You know, come to think of it a week of the group exercise stuff would be good prep for the Black Party, and it's the end of winter, I could not be whiter (skin hue) and so in all black, more intense looking If I tried. Hey things are looking up, I think a story is in the works for next time, till then I have to saturate my body and mind with disco music, I'll be at the party for at least 10 hours. Oh, I may have my new ragfans finished, boy will that be a sight, a six foot guy in black with a near death pallor flailing florescent flags on the dance floor. Well, I should fit in just fine.

	March 5, 2001 - March 11, 2001
	Wish list. OK things have been slow, so slow that it should have been mid-summer instead of winter's end, and I should be struggling with the sluggishness from heat and humidity not frozen water. But, I find myself with little to do but wait and play with my personal projects. I was thinking of a new workspace for myself--a storefront.
	There would be a large L-shaped work counter in the far corner opposite the door with throw-away couches and chairs in the main floor area--no carpet just a hard surface in case there is any impromptu dancing. There could be dancing, I would expect a drop-in with some sewing to do on their flags or fans would want to try them out. I also like the idea of transient art on the walls, I know lots of artists who need to rid themselves (not permanently) of some of the stuff they produce. Sometimes they just want to see a piece in another environment before finishing it.
	The space would function as a halfway house for freelancers--a safe place to kill an odd hour or so between jobs. Yeah there is a Starbucks on every corner but aren't all those people conducting business annoying? The other day a guy sat next to me and made non-stop cellphone calls to his contacts and clients--business conversations are not entertaining like personal ones--I became so irritated I had to change my place! What do you say to someone like that, all I can think of is "Hey, shut up! You're making me sick!" Not very elegant is it? People who conduct their business like that must have been very proud of their poops when they were toddlers.
	Boy, I am Mr. Crankypants aren't I, and with all the exercise I do ya'd think I'd be more of a mellow type person within. Maybe in my next life as a Brazilian sand fly I'll care less about such incursions on my space.

	February 26, 2001 - March 4, 2001
	Dream on. Well, the highlight of this week happened after my search for truth in web movies. I in absolute defeat excused my query from a tech help forum with "There is no all inclusive cross-platform headacheless way to go" hoping I wouldn't look to much like a fool. When I receive a response that encouraged persistence (nice enough) and a note that they would be using the above quote for their Signature. I have to tell you that just tickled me no end, even more then when I was quoted by the New York Times.
	The New York Times, You ask? Yes, in the Monday, June 28, 1999 issue page B1, 30 Years After Stonewall, Diversity Is Shown in Gay Pride Parade. As Media Director for Heritage of Pride (organizer of the March/Parade) I fielded the usual calls from the Media regarding crowd estimates etc..., and one about our Mayor's unexpected incursion into the wrong section of the March. Mayor Rudolph W. Giuliani was repeatedly heckled along the parade route, particularly by a contingent of minority marchers who were angry that he was marching close to them. "You should be able to march as the Mayor of New York City anyplace you want," Mr. Giuliani said after he made his planned exit from the parade route, "and if people can't deal with their own anger over that, that's really something emerging from them, from inside them." Jimmy Riordan, a spokesman for Heritage of Pride, which organizes the parade, was unapologetic. "Nobody is barred from being in the parade," he said. "It's completely open to all people. He's just not popular."
	So that was in the summer of 1999, since then the Mayor has been concentrating on his image. Now if a quote can accomplish that maybe we can look forward to that all inclusive utility that everyone can have to play all this media junk that's polluting websites and emails. -dream on- (oh that's my new signature).

	February 19, 2001 - February 25, 2001
	Convoluted, but true. On such a gloomy Sunday I opt for the Worldwide Plaza "Starbucks" instead of the nice independently owned "The Coffee Pot" on 9th Avenue. The Coffee Pot is comfortable, loud and dark--very dark--too dark for a gloomy day like today, the Starbucks has huge windows and lots of them so it feels better, I like light in the morning.
	I do like their strong burnt coffee but Starbucks attracts to many tourists, we have more than enough tourists in mid-town Manhattan, we sure don't need any more places designed to attract them. Oh, how I long for the good old days when New York was too scary to visit. What vacationers we had arrived and traveled huddled together, like frightened animals perpetually trapped in the headlights. Now there are so many it's more like herds of them, like predators we New Yorkers have to perch on the sidelines watching, scanning for the weak and feeble, for a pathway through--it's such an effort.
	I think all visitors should get a punch card with pre-selected sites and once all the holes are punched out, so are you, vacations over, bye-bye, ET goes home!!! And, no Floridians will be permitted to operate the punchers, we don't want any doubts, we don't want to dicker about whether they intended to visited the Empire State Building it must be certain. While we're at it they must be restricted to taxicabs and tour transportation, those smelly, noisy double-decker polluting machines (imported from that damp dry-rot ridden island, Britain) and any cab that wants them (who cares if to go cross-town they take the FDR Drive).
	Good news--NY Apple Tours, the yukiest double-decker tour company in town, is defunct. Thanks be to Tinkerbell, now maybe the tourists will recapture that feeling of terror they've been harboring (take me back to the good old "Fear City" days--fun times) let me explain: It's my theory that the increase in tourism over the last decade was due not the greater efficiency of the NYPD but, the herds of double-decker buses which kept them safely above the crowds and away from the denizens of the streets. "See New York City safe and snug, high above the streets in a New York Apple Tours Bus."
	Yeah, I'm kinda cranky, I've been trying to troubleshoot cross-platform safe, animation with sound, all week and I've come up blank. Yes, yes all anyone has to do is have the right plugins installed etc.... you know that is just "the Company Line,v lip service it's no solution. I want to deliver via email or web page an example of the above without excuses. It doesn't exist as yet, I spent the better part of Sunday reading through the manuals of all the major formats to prove that, and I'm sorry to say the better part of Saturday night hitting website after website of same, their FAQs, all that crap. Summary: Our format is the best format, get the plugin--it's Beta versus Vhs all over again--it's reel to reel versus cassette versus 8track all over again--it's DAT versus CD versus DVD versus laser disk..., you know I'm pooped, look to my "WEB" section for the final product in a few weeks (don't worry I'll email you).

	February 12, 2001 - February 18, 2001
	Vent it baby, vent it! Susan Morabito's mix of music at the White Party was a sorry exercise in over indulgent overmodulated noise, no soul, it would seem that she has used up all her brain power and has switched to her genitals. So unlike the mixes she has commercially released one of which is recommended on my homepage. Well, I arrived at 3am, I thought I could stake out a good spot near a speaker column before the rush, but there is no rush, just one continuing horde, next time I will show up around Six.
	Otherwise it wasn't bad I got a good workout with my ragfans, made a few new friends and cemented ongoing pleasantries with other regulars. The people that choose to dance with fans or ragfans (flags) always migrate to a separate area of the club, here, by previous arrangement the stage area was roped off for the fanners and for the most part that is where everyone stayed. As I said I enjoyed my fanning, but I also enjoyed my rests, being on the stage gave me a good view of the lighting, the mirror ball and the crowd, and not too high so you feel separated from all the energy like in the balcony. The Roseland Ballroom is a magnificent space to party in it will be much missed when the developers have their way and tear it down.
	During one of my rests a flagger moved himself into a position to catch the black light on his flags better, this happened to be where I was sitting so I was treated to a private performance (as private as anything on a stage can be). His flags were black and white in a very simple small pattern, not very impressive from a distance but right on top of the light and from my vantage point the spinning and other moves of the flags were mesmerizing. And, it was my privilege to enjoy this show for some time before his jealous little tramp of a boyfriend (in furry pants) came to lay claim over his genitals and move him to a spot where he could keep an eye on him. Imagine being jealous of me, how silly can you get? Whatever, if I come across this flagger again I think I shall chat him up (he looked like he might be Brazilian).
	I have two pairs of flags and am putting together a third that I may finish within a month's time. Earlier this week I developed a color scheme that I think is going to be stunning to watch spin but I will probably have to paint them since I doubt that I will be able to find fabric with the right combination and use of colors.
	I really like the colors and textures I hear in Disco music nowadays, even in the covers of old songs sound like new music. Take for example remakes of "I'm Not In Love," "If You Could Read My Mind" and "Perfect Day." Three breathtakingly refreshing acts of genius in three different styles, Disco Trance, Disco Pop and Disco Trance/Gospel. It's only a shame that Morabito didn't play any of them--to mention a few--she did play snippets but only out of sync overmodulated... .
	The rest of the week involved all this computer and computer art work that hasn't inspired any bile what so ever. Now that's sad, nothing to say good or bad about an activity, let's go out I hear 12 West is reopening.
	"at 12 West the sounds the best I guess you can come in your jeans" --Andrea True Connection.

	February 5, 2001 - February 11, 2001
	Pratt Institute Sorry D, but this has been an uneventful week. I spent the last few days looking for white jeans for the White Party. This became a real chore, seems everything is khaki, actually off-white, ecru. This reminds me of the late 1970's when everything was beige (even the scaffolding in front of Tiffany & Company) and of Bill Mitchell.
	It was the end of sophomore year at college that I moved into an apartment with Bill, Krista and Ted. Krista and Ted were from New Jersey, Ted from Wayne and Krista from one of the Brunswicks, Bill was the most foreign being from York, Pennsylvania. It was only supposed to be the three of them but at some point they invited me to take the fourth room which I happily took, I had no where else to go and I didn't want to spend anymore time in Pratt Institute's vermin infested dormitory. We worked in teams to spruce it up: Ted and Bill on the hall & bathroom, Krista and me on the kitchen. The hall was done in a light gray with flat black for the ceiling down to the molding. Ted made large cylinders out of cardboard, painted them the same black and mounted them to the ceiling light fixtures--they finished it off with a couple of my paintings, Ted's drawings and a twig or two. The bathroom got the same light gray with a white ceiling, transparent light green shower curtains and a large hanging asparagus fern. All very nice, very hi-tech design, very much an extension of their individual rooms--both Ted and Bill where Industrial Design majors.
	The difference between them showed up in their rooms, Ted chose to continue the gray but with white whereas Bill went for beige/white, which matched his warm outgoing personality, he was also a slut but there wasn't anything to indicate that. Ted on the other hand was reserved, and self-admittedly-uptight, they shared a very formal attitude about how things should be done and whom they should be done with. Which puzzled me because they chose to become my friends, and I was not their kind of person, I can be quite the slob especially when I get wrapped up in a project I will ignore all else until it's done, they had morning and evening rituals which they performed regardless of their energy levels or other demands. I could be an embarrassment to them, once I realized this I made an effort to be less so, so long that is, that it didn't interfere with my painting or the creative process. In time they grew inured to me and I really felt loved by them, their friendship was the first thing of value that my talent ever brought me.
	When it comes to other people I'm not so picky, so long as you don't smell or practice self-mutilation in my presence everything will be fine (that of course doesn't apply to all personality types but just types of people). I have a natural tolerance for the "stranger" thanks to the complexity of cultures I grew up among on 2nd Avenue and 89th Street in Manhattan. That area is just this side of the Spanish Harlem/Yorkville border and in those days reflected both communities in the mixture of peoples and languages of the native New Yorkers as well as the students, weirdoes, Beatniks and recent immigrants that the low rent tenements we lived in attracted.
	Once settled in NY Bill made a bee line for Mecca (57th Street) where he got a job at Design Research the precursor for the mass marketing of haute designed household objects, lamps, dishes, cubes, shower curtains and Japanese tanning mats. One of my favorite memories of him was hanging out in the kitchen and chatting over the latest finely designed something or other while he prepared food. (College was where I discovered the joy of the kitchen for social interactively. Oh, I forgot about Krista and my treatment of the Kitchen-we will get to that next time.) I also liked going out with him, It was together that we went to Le Jardin when it opened. That was great fun, inside there were palm trees everywhere and all the chairs, couches, tables, stools, counters-everything-was white and glowed under the black lights. The dance hits were Smarty Pants and Soul Makosa, everybody wore faded light blue jeans and tee-shirts--I don't remember if it was then, but, it was the kind of scene that would prompt Bill to say, "Why do all fags have to look alike?" That was the beginning of the Clone Era, which hasn't really changed much, but it does provide the impetus for the inevitable "theme party."
	And that is where we began, I got the white jeans a white tank, that should do, and I'm going to be attending the White Party this weekend--hope I survive.

	January 29, 2001 - February 4, 2001
	Another Close Call Another Sunday morning-early, alone I'm having my coffee and watching the pigeon population grow. How do they do it in such an unhealthy environment (NYC mid-winter)? Variety in diet, fries, donuts, franks and rice and when they die-of natural causes-where do they go? Rats get them probably, a scrumptiously fresh feast for family self. Gee, I wonder which is preferred by the rats, pasta with sauce in the trash or a fresh dead pigeon? I relish these rare Sunday morning musings.
	Congratulate me Diary, I'm running 5 miles in 45 mins, I am so pleased with my progress--when I started my fitness routine 4 years ago I couldn't even run a minute without collapsing into a lump. Naturally I have approached this with my usual good sense, by taking it slow and avoiding all urges to turn to fad diets. I do try to follow the Zone agenda regarding food, it's all about proportions no taboos, and I have gone from 264 to 198 (I'm 6'1") I look fabulous just like I always use to before computers and no smoking.
	I put the weight on thanks to the introduction of computers to the graphic arts department and the fact that I quit chain-smoking 11 years ago. Don't look so surprised, doing commercial art used to be a fairly physical job. You spent the day balancing yourself seated, on a stool and/or standing at a drafting table and alternately running back and forth to the camera and other crap like that. Now the only time you have to get out of your chair is to pick up your printouts, and so you sit there all day slowly coagulating into a clot of blubber. You know I would like to take the credit for having the good sense to quit smoking but I had to be forced into it by the no smoking ordinances. When they banned smoking in movie theaters I knew the jig was up. I looked for a logical break and choose the upcoming Memorial Day weekend, for which I went away with the last of my stash of cigarettes, smoked them, and returned never to smoke again. And, I haven't smoked since, that is except at a convention I attended in Los Angeles (where you can't even smoke in a bar!).
	Well, Diary that wasn't very interesting for everybody was it? But I don't have anything very spicy to tell, I have been seeing this guy from Brazil with whom I have only one thing in common--so there is no real future in it, eventually the sex will become uninspired and that will be that. But, I don't look at it as a bad or sad thing, not half full ... I see it as a close call, could have been worse I could be fretting a way out of a icky situation. Instead I will continue to look on the bright side and when I pass on I hope I come back as a Brazilian. Why? Because Brazilians really know how to party! More next time.

	January 22, 2001 - January 28, 2001
	Where to begin? I've been very excited all week, what with both the new website design and my new musical program for runnng in the works. The website will be so much easier to use, I really overdid the last one, but I like to make pretty pictures and I just couldn't resist. All those colors are positively brutal on web browsers without the oomph to handle them. And, there is this lovely addition a place for virtual confessions--there are so many to make, will there be room for them all?
	The musical programs are the key to my fitness routine and it's thanks to them that I have had any success at all. I literally mope when I have to run without the music blasting into my head and the more cresendoes the better. Disco or rock with a black gospel flavoring is best. The track listing is:
	SIDE ONE If You Could Read My Mind, Stars On 54 All Or Nothing, MIISA Adagio For Strings pt2, William Orbit Loca's Miracle, Fragma Frozen, Madonna Now I Can Dance, Tina Arena Liberta, Lovechild Mental Thing pt1, Diver And Ace Love And Devotion, Joi Cardwell I Love You....Stop!, Red 5 Mental Thing pt2, Diver And Ace Touch Me, Rising Star	SIDE TWO Baby, Rozalla Missing, Everything But The Girl Find Your Way, Elan Spinning, Perpetual Motion I'm Not In Love, Olive Share The Love, Andrea Martin The Flame, Erin Hamilton Body To Body, Shades Of Love w/ Meli'sa Morgan Prayer, Sabatu Secrets, Sunscreem
	The title is "Manic Thoughts, After Images" (beats saying "the tape") Had a lovely surprise about mid-week I received a package in the mail with a fabulous thank-you bauble in it. I love getting stuff like that, I never wear jewelry but I do like to display it on a wall or in a window, you know either alone or clustered with other objects. It was a gratuity for work done on Alchemy III a fundraising dance for amfAR. Actually just attending it was thanks enough, it was a splendid affair. The best music and crowd in a unique space that could accommodate dancers and fanners the later providing the "spin" for the evening.
	And as you already know the rest of the week was spent on producing art work, writing codes and debugging web work. Hey, I have a feeling love will be most prominent next week, I don't know why I just do, you know it's an old story there's this guy...