Vanity Now! Rapist Clowns!

Ryan Sigesmund and Kate Hagerty are two good friends. They're an adorable couple who are both photographers. They were good enough to come by the cave and document newer work for me before I vacate Pittsburgh for Chicago.





















It was a fun exercise in casual documentation of documentation of presentation of cave activities. Ryan photographed paintings and multimedia pieces from his tripod. Kate roamed taking photos of the yeast and fermenting materials I've collected, the tools in various states of rot and wear, and me in various states of wear and rot. We all love to tell jokes:

Kate: Heh heh...

Brett: What?

Kate: A little boy in a chef's hat is playing on the sidewalk when a clown in a pickup truck pulls up and parks beside him. "Hey, there, kid. Get in and I'll give you a ride." The boy innocently consents and they drive in silence for a minute before the clown asks him "Do you know what a pedophile is?" The boy scrunches up his face in boyish concentration and says "No."
They drive on and after another minute the clown asks "Do you know what fellatio is?" Again, after a moment the boys says "No."

Another minute passes and clown again turns to the boy and asks "Do you know what anal rape is?" and the boys says "No, and listen, I think you're confused. I'm not really a chef."

Brett and Kate: HA ha haha!

Ryan: I think I missed something.

We ate bagels with cream cheese and young coconut and french press coffee. We got wired.








People like Ryan and Kate keep me alive.

I've always been able to admit that there is something of a performer in me. Even with my visual work. I think my body is in there all the time. Sure, that means I chew on mortality a lot, but I recognize something else body oriented, too. It feels more like the manifestations of our ability to discuss our thing-ness and whether this has cogent agency or identity with anything nonphysical. Or if there is no nonphysical all we do is really just another emphasis of absurdity. You don't get away from absurdity. You just don't. But how do you cope with it?