So the question now sits …… what exactly is splendaism ? ……. Splenda marked the turn of the century with its introduction in 1999 ……… Splenda is a replacement for sugar ….. so could splendaism be an intellectual art that isnt sugar coated as a ” pretty picture ” ?

Either way, i hope that i too am recognized in the artworld terms of splendaism someday.

She did this in frustration with the “art world” and in frustration with being an artist in general.

Now, her heart is broken and she wishes she never made this move, as the art is lost forever, most of the pieces having never been photographed.  There exists however, a small video in which she prowls through her storage bin of art. 

the Goodwill Project has ultimately become an eastern meditation about “letting go” !

overtop of which the two fellow artists rant and sing about their views of the ten commandments and their true meanings ………. sometimes comical, yet very serious and politically incorrect …….. this recording is a brilliant piece of art consisting of one song for each commandment with an editional eleventh song which is simply the word love.

she used a deck of cards to socially relate relationships …… two kings of opposite colors ( two leaders of opposing nations ),  two black jacks ( two gay men ), a red king and a black queen ( a couple of different race ),  an ace and a two ( a couple of different class ), and finally the joker and a four ( the funster and the square )

under each card she wrote first, ” the room isnt dark enough that i can touch you ” and second, “the music isnt loud enough to say i love you ” ….. conceptually commenting on the difficulties of relationships.

  It would consist of installing Edna Floretta’s entire apartment into an art gallery ….. her body of work from 1990-2008, her belongings, furniture, poetry, ect ect ……. this would include 5 major video pieces about 2 hours long each.  The idea is to create an intimate world where you can truly know the artist opposed to the stark white art world.

  The room would become a work of art onto itself as red string and red apples are strung throughout.

email … thursday Feb 13th 2003

the stars are at war.

and i see no sense in wearing thousand dollar shoes to art openings full of greed and smuggery …..

when if you ask a few real people some real questions …. you get answers like…..

i told the other teacher to come to the office with me she needed to hear what i was about to say ….you cant yell at a child every morning for not doing his homework…maybe you should look at the pattern a little before yelling at the little person ….. how do you expect him to do his homework when he has no home to go to….i know for a fact he didnt eat supper last night….and he asked me for extra food to take home to his little brother…do you think he gives a shit about your homework ? when all he can think about is getting to school so he can eat ?

the stars at war.

i saw a picture of myself at a friend’s house ….. i was so beautiful then …. with my pretty sweater….and tiny body….my smile so carefree….back when i spent every night in a bar and had so many lovers …

but now the stars are at war.

and i have taken up my sword….

and every time i close my eyes i see myself on a galloping horse …. my arm swinging

the stars are at war.

and now i spend my saturday nights jogging after sunset … so that noone will see my breasts bouncing as i run …. and reading mark twain’s instructions on art …and admiring his charm ….

the stars are at war.

2nd email thurs, Feb 13, 2003

when i look into the mirror …. am i looking at myself … or am i looking at humanity ?

either way ….. it seems ugly.

i feel exhausted….. i have taken my mind and stretched it … and stretched it.

and i am tired and broke, the same as everyone i know who decides to create something beautiful ….

its so hard to tell myself art is worth my time….its so hard to believe that i may be an artist …. that someday i might leave the country …. that i am more than just some woman destined to work as a check out clerk all of her adult life …

sometimes i loose hope.

lots of times i cry.

its so hard to believe that you can …

when no one wants you to.

the woman in the mirror is so ugly, i wish she would disappear.

i told him that i wanted to just go into a house and never come out … im tired of trying

trying to make something beautiful, when everyone is so ugly

i overheard two parents ask their son… in preface to a rude and off color joke, the following question ….. ” you dont like black people do you ?”

my heart sunk.  this is the america i know.

the america that admitted using black men to test out diseases without their knowing,

the america that sent black men to their bloodiest wars,

my heart is filled with rage and will not rest,

this has to be addressed….and children today need to hear the truth …the white people need to be put in their place… and the black dignity restored.

an apology to the children

we fucked up , we really fucked up, and this is the truth ….

the truth is that africa is full of beauty and intelligence

the truth is that it was a place of higher learning …..

it needs to be taught the true history …….it is time that a black man can look in the mirror and not see a drug dealer, a thief, a slave, nor ignorance .

it is time white people see that too.

the following pieces are my conceptual paintings …….

1.  this is a painting of Lori Earley painting a painting of a plumber with his ass crack showing, while she is wearing a prom dress and sipping champagne, Barry Manalow is playing on her record table next to her, every 5 minutes a dancing monkey comes in and drops a coin into the ass crack of the plumber.

2.  this is a painting of a 14 yr old about to have an abortion.  she is handing over her money to the receptionist as the doctor, a large black man with sad eyes , passes in the hallway.

3.  this is a painting of a very large naked woman eating a box of chocolates as the song love bites plays on the radio, there is a birdcage next to her with  a yellow canary inside, she sticks the canary into her vagina and magically turns into a beautiful mermaid.

4.  this is a painting of a red fire engine going under a train tressel on a moody October afternoon.  the firman is telling his friend how nice it was to have gotten a one night stand with a hairy girl who is an artist. geese are migrating overhead and traffic is heavy. suddenly a bridge appears out of the sky and an angel floats down it, apparently a woman just choked to death in the Burger King across the street.

5.  this is a very large painting of hairy feet, a video artist is projecting a series of soft core love scenes onto the left foot, the right foot has a red string tied around the middle toe, a miniture dwarf of a man about one inch high runs across the feet screaming, ” get me wife a tatoo artist ! “

3-d sun screen.  i think about the world fool, and hope dearly that’s not me, with one foot gayly off the cliff, but i’m afraid i’ve already slipped.

2.  pieces of blue drawn slowly to red.  float from the glass of water.  and straight into my head.  as the thought of my unmade bed drives me mad.  things they come to me in frisco nights, the black man who just made a bet, stood in chinatown smoking his cigarette, neither of us expecting it was the eve of chinese new year, until the little men came from the alleys in the mid of night, and lit of the streets with dragon’s breathe.  these things they just come in frisco nights.

a nice irish girl crosses market street in terrors, it is late, the streets empty except for her grief, our paths cross and we embrace, her grandmother …the streets flooded with her tears ..is dead in ireland, and she must return.  these things they just come to me in frisco nights.

romance of fog and smells of all worlds, ghosts of sailors, and men on journeys, far navigations to distant parts of the mind, all of this you find, in the sweet frisco nights, poets who know it and ones not yet known, from every culture they have flown, and taken frisco as a nest.  for they know far and wide her kisses are the best.

3.  oh little boys i saw you from my window, on the city streets, with all the fight in your arms and your rage so dark … oh little boys i saw you from my hotel window, i above in room 44 , as one group gathered and the other marched in,

and how you faced off…did you know i was above crying, crying that they invited you into a world of fear, and the love you were denied, i see it in your eyes.

4. he said he swam in the same pool as marilyn monroe, and how much pleasure the thought of that as his body floated ….he paused and added, but i’m sure they’ve changed the water since then.

5. it is happening right now as we speak, the biting terror of the family scream, something else is bothering them, but they cant place what, and the pulled back rubber band releases into furious head butts, the sister is choking the brother as the baby is pulling their hair … the single mom is letting loose on the tender child’s bare, it is happening right now as we speak, the false religion has made everyone weak, and taught them that they are bad, and everyone’s taken all that they can, time to think about the raised hand, and what drove us mad.

6.  you should have seen the squirrels at the home of president Hayes, where he and lemonade lucy are resting in their graves.  the trees are strong and alive, on quiet nights, visitors hear a faint heart beat, a brick mansion and a buried horse, the gates are from washington and haunted of course !  the squirrel’s bellies are fat from corn and pieces of bread by human fingers torn.  they have little fat faces, make you want to squeeze, those cute rascals crawling up them trees.

7.  the black and white dog ran past my window through the ice cold snow. it is february my spirits are low.  february always made me cry. never sure why.  then i remembered further back to my youth, valentine’s day with a man who spoke no truth.  he gave me dirty white lies all through the night, looked me straight in the eye, as i showered called home to his wife, the telephone bill doesnt lie …. the kids we talked about he already had, the man my heart held, was already a dad, not two , not three, but four times over… my valentine’s date was quite a romer.  my spirits are low. february always made me cry. not sure why.  until the black and white dog caught my eye. and took me back to his deceitful lies.  february ran his love letters dry

the following dreams are included in this piece ……

1.  i dreamt that i peeked through an odd hole in a door and saw my friend Chris who just died dancing gayly in the nude.

2. i dreamt my high school art teacher was serving water and burger king whoppers for a charity benefit, and kept telling me to quit smoking.

3. i dreamt i was traveling through time and landed in a scene where a bunch of indians watched their chief get killed by an arrow held by an indian.

4.  i dreamt my black cat had spiders crawling all over him, so he went away for awhile, when he returned he had a baby kitty that was all black just like him.

5.  i dreamt that i was frida kahlo, and someone carried me down to a shallow pool of water that had green and yellow and pink sand in it, i was gently touching the sand with my foot as men swirled around me trying to get my attention.

6. i dreamt i was beating up my mother calling her a worthless piece of shit.

7. i dreamt that i was lost in San Francisco trying to get back to the Mosser Hotel and i ran into my twin cousins who were with kenny mckalis, and jason porter …. jason was pissing on a jesus statue and i told him that was stupid, so he turned and peed all over my face instead.

8. i dreamt i was being forced to marry my brother.

9. i dreamt i went to the San Francisco Art Institute and flew a kite as an art piece.

10. i dreamt that an eight year old boy dressed as batman and a man snuck into my bedroom window to try to murder me.

11. i dreamt i was dating an asian man who was in the mofia and killed paula fox, then had her body made into a stone statue.

12. i dreamt i was in an episode of the Dukes of Hazard and they came across a mountain with a river where a bunch of women were living as witches.  i was one of the witches and we were very powerful.

13. i dreamt i fell out of a high hotel window in San Fran and landed on a very large piece of machinery and barely held on till it got to the ground, and then i was a hero.

14. i dreamt i was digging in someone’s refrigerator for left overs to feed a very hungry dog.

15. i dreamt i fell in love with a boy who was actually spider man.

16. i dreamt my friend’s daughter had a flower growing in her vagina.

17. i dreamt i was back in college and kept skipping classes and falling behind in my studies.

18. i dreamt i was on the phone with Paula Ignez and she poured splenda into the phone line and it went into my vagina.

19. i dreamt i was watching a young nurse cry, because there was something her boss asked her to perform on a dying patient and she just couldnt do it.

20. i dreamt that i was at a costume party with so many people and i was trying to find tony labat in the crowd and someone told me he was there dressed as a sheep herder.

21. i dreamt that i was caring for someone’s baby and when i fed it , it sufficated and died.

22. i dreamt i was begging phil keeley to have anal sex with me.

23. i dreamt i was running late getting dressed up as a clown and doug velliquette handed me my toothbrush.

24. i dreamt i was having virtual sex with aaron jones.

25. i dreamt i was at a festival in San Fran with Seraph Jordan and Jeanette and someone ran up to me as i was crossing the street and slapped a hallucinary drug on my wrist. instantly the scene turned purple and everything was in slow motion and i had the time of my life !

these dreams are my conceptual self-portraits !