bonefold compiles

Table of Contents

  1. Renee Delosh : Red Waving
  2. Erin Franke : Forward
  3. Angela Fan : tag ur it
  4. Nicole Reber : Mondo Hollywood Filmed 1965 to 1967
  5. Nicole Reber : Screenshot Mondo Hollywood
  6. Courtney Childress : Catsup
  7. Courtney Childress : Ketchup
  8. Renee Delosh : Offers
  9. Renee Delosh : Route of Escape
  10. Andrea McGinty : Big Decisions
  11. Renee Delosh : Dog God
  12. Renee Delosh : 88 in the breeze
  13. Dana Lok : Still Here video stills
  14. Dana Lok : Still Here
  15. Nicole Reber : Mondo Hollywood Sculpture
  16. Genevieve Lipinsky de Orlov : Nearing the End of Our Rope

Holy Shit

June 16th, 2016

We we wanted to do this thing about the apocalypse, or the end of times, but we realized by 'end' we meant both 'beginning' and 'proceeding'. So our prompt is the current moment. The shock, disbelief, the momentum and object and uncanny decisions of this very second in 2016.

Holy Shit

Title: Red Waving. Artist: Renee Delosh. It's a red rectangle animated with alternating black border and thick wavy vertical line.

Renee Delosh
Red Waving, 2016
.gif, dimensions variable

Forward /// Erin Franke

My mom has a short list of pop news moments that she rehashes aloud with some regularity. One of these is Princess Di's tragic death (My mom is as bewildered by the inhospitality of death as any of us). Another is the Heaven's Gate group's ascendance to the Next Level astral plane. My mom's partially whispered sussing re: Heaven's Gate is not about how these people committed mass suicide, but how they were found laid out in their bunks, all with matching clothes, black Nikes, five dollar bills and a handful of quarters in their pockets. The people of Heaven's Gate believed that a UFO, hidden behind the Hale-Bopp comet, would take them to the Next Level, and the only way to catch that ride was to leave their bodies/terrestrial husks behind in San Diego.

The highlight from my mom's version has always been the quarters. Interplanetary fare? Laundry day? Snack vending machine? It is boring and interesting.

You can read quite a bit about Heaven's Gate online, because mass suicide is sad and weird and enigmatic and because two people belonging to Heaven's Gate were asked to stay alive and maintain web hosting for the original site. So there were the quarters, and there was this strident preparedness to protect and distribute intellectual property.

While alive, the Heaven's Gate crew worked and lived together in a situation not unlike what WeWork is pulling together with WeLive— luxe, comfortable digs in which everyone wore matching threads and had the same haircut North Korea style and those sweet black Nikes. Heaven's Gate ran a web design firm called ‘Higher Source,’ and it kills me that these soldiers of financial stability and customer service were in such banal communiqué with intergalactic enlightenment that they remembered the quarters. The only thing worse would be if the traditional Pyrex knockoff of potlucks-past turned up in that San Diego kitchen, neatly saran-wrapped (tinfoil blocks the UFO) and three quarters full of congealed ???.

We're all living with a catastrophic vibe right now. It's a sense of ill ease, fear, and sometimes imminent threat to life that can be as general as ‘the apocalypse’ and as specific as your own last words. But we keep plugging along. We're living with semen on the wall; living with the temporary hairlines of shadows or a frought hashtag. We don't know how to clean this stain out of the carpet. We have used all our quarters. We are so lucky as to be self described and alone and triumphant.

Mondo Hollywood
Filmed 1965 to 1967

Nicole Reber

some towns are built of marble
some cities built on schemes
only one is built on magic
only one is built on dreams
my world
my world of hollywood

6 men hold onto a good year
as it lift offs
one time i chased the nickelodeon blimp
as it landed by my house
the mall had christmas directions still up a few months too late
and it looks good for traffic today
pepsi winks
haze but really just winter
please thank the olympic training club for the gym scene
and the clay studio across from his favorite restaurant
gypsy boots
lives on nuts and fruits
and dies in my hometown
his car has graffiti
i drink the juice i’m on the loose
my grass does not have to be green
wicker basket

rolls royce
work in some very big big houses
get acquainted
guess who i saw today
i came to hollywood to be an actor
and as long as it’s entertaining
it’s a good way to make a living
jay gives me bangs
one look at your
and i’m in paradise
my name is sheryl carson
i can give you the same effect as what a plastic surgeon can
i just use the name of sheryl professionally
spelled with an s
anything, anything goes
hairdressing is an art
any art form is a love affair with yourself
the biggest swingers today are hairdressers
i would imagine a husband would be very surprised to see what happens at the hair salon
jay sebring was doing magic
see if you really want to be transformed it’s possible
she’s a different girl
you can’t believe it happened
i think i believe in god at times like that
one look at you
i’m in paradise
who could think about eternity
hands feet and chest

Artist: Nicole Reber. 2 screenshots from the movie Mondo Hollywood, first of the father exiting a building while holding his kid and closing the door; second with the mother looking at and possibly feeling 3 large bronze sculptures that are outdoors.

Nicole Reber
Mondo Hollywood Screenshots, 2016
Screenshot, dimensions variable

my bald spot gone in gilded mirrors
tiny glasses and alcohol
and my boobs out
having a great time on vinyl tile
we still haven’t got to the beach yet
the waves aren’t too big
but the shape of malibu is one of the most known in the world
i have a feeling i accomplish more at the beach
because i feel closer to people
surfers are always smiling
because they’re happy
sometimes there’s too many people who come around
people who hang around the beach all day
and it’s crazy
paul newman and julie andrew
join in pleasant conversation
with princess meg and lord snowden
someone plays harmonica on the beach
there’s barely enough room to walk with all of these boulders
been kicked of every school i've been to
didn’t mind
ran away from home
came back
ran away from again
came back
hen i ran away from one more time
and i didn’t come back
i wanted to find out if i’m wrong
or if everyone’s wrong
and i found out everyone’s wrong

i sing about what i feel
i write about what i feel
personally it’s the only thing i care about
that and
at 17 i came to hollywood
i starved my ass off
after i’d been in hollywood a couple years
couple were telling me i would be a star
they’d treat you different
and i didn't know why
i watched this happen in my life for a few months
and it almost drove me crazy
you don’t exist
you’re nothing
if you believe in that you are wrong
i am not free
no one is free
this is miss hope chest
she’s great and we hope to see her a long time
still searching for an image that will sent the world on fire
monster movies
monster television shows
hand painted masks
in a hollywood where children have monster birthday parties
there is obviously a need for a dynamic young villain
i am the director to the devil
i am the eye of evil
i am the face of doom
i am the voice of gloom
i will become the night stalker
happy birthday to you
at the drug king

carole cole in the princess of the month
this is my friend minnie
minnie and i have been roommates for over a year now
we have been roommates for over a year now
my name is peanuts that's what my friends call me
i guess because i'm so tiny
minnie and i really enjoy window shopping in hollywood
cause everything is so pretty
beautiful people
shiny cars
expensive cars
the sexiest place on hollywood blvd is fredericks
the close hear are so sexy
they just turn me on
even someone who isn’t blessed with a great figure
can buy things here which can make them look like a movie queen
can buy things here
i love hollywood
it’s the only place i can feel completely free
where you could be whatever your heart desires
look at their hips
some people just don’t appreciate real beauty
the thing with the topless look is that it was just a short fad
in san francisco, las vegas,
it started in hollywood
the most extreme radical things start here and end here
it’s kind of sad that you can’t get a job as a cocktail waitress
if you don’t show your knockers
if you don’t have a good body
the body thing is so big
the average parachuter goes from

topanga canyon
church bells
and free american’s gallery & art
a psychedelic session involves the ingestion of one of a group of chemicals
that has a tryptomean base
my name is richard alpert
i was dismissed in may of 1963
the psychedelic chemicals are exactly the opposite in terms of the psychological effect
there is an intensification of the confrontation
heightened use of senses
it is an experience of oneness where the ability to differentiate is lost
it is not known or understood by the people
that fear causes legislation which causes
people will be allowed to explore their own minds one day
new forms
new visual sensations
new feelings
transcendental experiences
there are a lot of ways of expanding one’s consciousness
hollywood is very interesting place
and has a lot of very interesting women
my name is valerie porter
and i am an american artist
when i sleep
i like to sleep alone
so i can meditate and communicate in silence with the creative experience
i had a very strong lsd experience in spain
and i can see why it can be too much
our country tis of thee
and i dont know whats hanging on my walls
that little lap harp

that my kindergarten teacher played
and szou and godo
off beat
i’ve known carl for about four years
and we see eye to eye on most things
he’s bitter about injustice, people who are dishonest, people who are hypocritical
los angeles county art museum
i think hollywood perhaps more than any other city in the united states lends itself toward the so-called variant, the deviant, i mean deviant in the healthy sense, in terms of departing from the norm, exploring other possibilities
think i could function more comfortable here than any other place in the united states
the baby almost falls into the water
there’s a Calder above him
each disk spinning like a different time zone
Mom and Dad
are more like something else
made out of clay
303 laurel
at the mouth of it all
the buddy system
counting one, two, three
in my head
so I can learn the dance steps
who is dad talking to
in contemporary america
while mom wears velvet
in the sculpture studio
we will have a big party for you in the center's parking lot
after you get out of juvi
I will be eighteen in 2 years
135 days or
something like that

Title: Catsup. Artist: Courtney Childress. This is an image of a rectangle of white shag carpet with red paint, the color of ketchup, in the center.

Courtney Childress, 2016
Pigment and plaster of paris on shag carpet
15 by 10 inches


Courtney Childress

Liz likes to tell a story when people are overwhelmed by what they have in front of them. She says “Well Courtney, what happens when you go out to the backyard and there’s a bunch of dog poop? [rhetorical]
Do you categorize it? Gather it into piles according to size? [also rhetorical]
No, you bend over and start picking up shit.”

Also I came in from a glorious bike ride tonight to cat vomit on the rug. What would she say about that?

Title: Offers. Artist: Renee Delosh. With a white background and a cartoon man-hole in the ground, floats a painted pink palm that sometimes has all it's leaves and sometimes not. Also floating are 2 strokes on the right hand side that are sometimes fire engine red or tarp blue. The cartoon man-hole is sometimes blurred with a grid over it.

Renee Delosh
Offers, 2016
.gif, dimensions variable

Title: Route of Escape. Artist: Renee Delosh. Background is vertically textured white paint with dusty dark blue lines and shapes. There are 2 alternating images, first an image of an archway and second a blue-ghost like shape coming out of a man-hole.

Renee Delosh
Route of Escape, 2016
.gif, dimensions variable

Big Decisions

Andrea McGinty

At the last moment he ripped off the condom and shot across her




and onto the opposing wall.

He offered to clean it up, but she told him to leave it.

She wanted to sit with it.

See how its color changed in the afternoon light;
see how her feelings changed as it faded into night.

Like a paint sample, she wanted to live with it for a while before she made any big decisions.

Title: Dog God. Artist: Renee Delosh. Background is white with an image of a dalmatian sitting on a rock looking to the right, which alternates to black and white. The picture of the dalmation is layered on an image of a large palm leaf that sometimes disappears. The word

Renee Delosh
Dog God, 2016
.gif, dimensions variable

Title: 88 in the Breeze. Artist: Delosh. 2 palm leaves move back and fourth on top of 2 vertical symbols for infinity.

Renee Delosh
88 in the Breeze, 2016
.gif, dimensions variable

Artist: Dana Lok. This is a still image from a video. With an yves klein blue background, there is a stack of post-it size white papers that reads 'STILL' in all caps.

Dana Lok
Still Here, 2015
Still, dimensions variable

Artist: Dana Lok. This is a still image from a video. With an yves klein blue background, there is a stack of post-it size white papers that reads 'HERE' in all caps.

Dana Lok
Still Here, 2015
Still, dimensions variable

Dana Lok
Still Here, 2015
Video, dimensions variable

Artist: Nicole Reber. This is an image of an assemblage sculpture she made. The background is large-leaf foliage, with an image of an empty dark hospital room, on top of a rubber glove. the finger tips of the rubber glove have LED's in them and are clamped by key chains. There is a pink suitcase tag that reads in a 70s font 'The Beverly Hills Hotel and Bungalows'

Nicole Reber
Mondo Hollywood Filmed 1965 to 1967, 2016

Nearing the End of Our Rope

Genevieve Lipinsky de Orlov

One of the last non-profit art spaces in lower Manhattan closes its doors. We mourn its loss, lament the changing times, landscape. Still, luxury condos take its place. Unfamiliar wealth moves in, hangs expensive, kitschy art on the walls – tokens of successful tax evasion. Yet rarely do bodies occupy the space; it is but one of many financially savvy investments. Nevertheless, the space has been privatized, conquered, colonized.

Is this it? The apocalypse? Or is it simply the inevitable progression of healthy Capitalism?

* * *

At a Prominent Auction House, an auctioneer is questioned about the claimed blindness in the valuation of works of art: Is it not indisputable fact that distinctions in value are made along lines of gender and race, that “meritocracy” is a fallacy perpetuated by the privileged? Outrageous! the auctioneer replies, how could the objective categories of “taste” or “quality” have discriminatory, political motives?

Is this the end? When we remain blind to persistent inequality despite our growing consciousness, more acute than ever, of the consequences particular bodies and identities face?

* * *

bell hooks wrote in this summer’s Artforum, “Within a culture of domination, all our political struggles risk commodification in ways that diffuse their radical intent.” What cultural significance can art have if all art is commodified, unable to exist outside of the economy? Art must be sold to pay rent, to survive in Capitalist society, but is it not precisely this act that secures an artwork’s demise, or at least the artist’s intent? Once a work of art enters the market is it not destined for the salivating, gluttonous jaws of the elite, to be hidden away in private homes and Swiss warehouses? Or, if we’re lucky, it ends up in a museum, but in what narrative must it then find a neat place? This context is not without limitations.

* * *

We have to hope the apocalypse is near. Only at the point of total destruction can we realize utopias, restructure hierarchies of wealth and power and value. It will mark the end only for some, for our current culture of domination.

But is our current state new? It has been almost twenty years since Adrienne Rich refused to accept the National Medal for the Arts, writing,

art means nothing if it simply decorates the dinner table of power which holds it hostage. The radical disparities of wealth and power in America are widening at a devastating rate. A President cannot meaningfully honor certain token artists while the people at large are so dishonored.

What has changed since? What makes this moment more apocalyptic than any other? The end of our current times actually seems unlikely; are we doomed to stay fixed here, on the verge of the end? What will become of us, of our dreamy utopias and unsold, undervalued work? Is our continued struggle supposed to be motivating, inspiring, even? Where do we go from here?

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