It’s now 11:30 pm and there are thirty minutes left of day 7 (last day) of the residency. And there is so much I missed and so much to add, talking with Wes today he had the idea of writing a thirty volume book and selling it door to door much like a Britannica salesman. It had been a long day and having just returned from a housewarming/swim party I will forgo any serious editing, not that there has been any editing the past 6 days! BUT to conclude with a teaching story, mentioned in an earlier post, I’d like to address the Art of Texas Drinking in light of someone’s experience of spontaneous upheaval. That person will go unnamed and the teaching if someone is so inclined, and just remember suffering is optional, is as follows: The Art of Texas Drinking is a sacred event and should be treated as such. It can start late in the morning and finish early in the morning but the trick is to pace yourself by (staying in one place and having a designate driver) starting with a large meal, followed by an alcoholic drink or two, then equal amounts water and sometimes twice as much depending on outside temperature, then a vigorous activity such as swimming/frisbee/etc., and then a couple of drinks again, and start the process over all while monitoring yourself for drunkeness or possible deterioration in motor skills. Texas Drinking is much like running a marathon instead of a sprint. And if you are going to do it you might as well treat yourself well through the experience. And perform this less than more often.

The photo above is the last photo I took the morning after leaving Rick and Meredith’s Texas wedding party. I love you all and wish you all the best. Take care, Love Richie

According to my clock it is 11:53 am Texas time. Sorry I ran a lot late.

As the night rambled on things became more absurd and to set up the next sequence a little back ground is required. Imagine three separate households of young men and women all college age and who most had “challenger” type personalities. The general public and in particular the local bar patrons were great captive audiences. The Porno Helmet was a classic example. I wasn’t involved in it’s conception but was present for it’s unveiling, I think. It was simply a helmet used in a previous operation: a member of the Fast House, Bret, had left the state to visit his parents and when he returned his older volvo had been given flames that began at the front bumper and trailed back over the hood. The painters gave him a helmet with similar flames as as he walked off the airplane. He was less than thrilled with what he found in the parking lot. The helmet was repurposed and mounted with a 16mm projector and then worn to a local bar and after beers were received and a suitable wall was found 1970’s porn was projected. The bartenders were also less than thrilled. Other infamous projects and regular occurrences, some now found online others not, include The Price Master, Fried Salt, Space Boot meets Buzz Aldrin, The Ricky Schroder Tapes, 6 foot penises made from cotton candy, stairway sleeping quarters, human sized chicken coops, and unabashed nudity. These and many more interventions were created by a mixture of behavior analysts, politic scientists, painters, performance artists, sculptures, video artists, anthropologists, and polyglots all in one central triangle of living spaces. One particular creative intervention made an appearance this late wedding party night of Rick and Meredith. Referred to as the The Fuck Walk, it was invented and perfected by Rick in the many college town watering holes members of the House of Prin frequented. This night, James did such a perfect example of Fuck Walking, Robin nearly fell out of her chair howling with laughter at the site of her second born impersonating her first. Have you have ever seen a rooster strutting around a brood of chickens? Well, if you have take that head movement and place in directly centered in the hips. Better yet, try walking using your hips to throw out your legs and feet in front of you with your arms set behind you with your hands dangling loose about a foot from your butt. Like you are fucking the air in front of you. Rick was known to do this for hours on end.

Oh yea, we did finally play ZZ Top for Big Rick and catcalls went up as Big Rick and Robin dirty danced with one another well after midnight.

Went to Whole Foods this morning and had a caked iced with your name and true to their form it is perfect. And yes I did spell it out, next time I will write it down. But regardless here’s to you! Happy Birthday Gabriela!

Over the course of the afternoon people gorged every nook and cranny of their stomachs with the finest Central Texas cuisine and were treated with the sweetest southern hospitality. Misting hoses were hung overhead to cool those unaccustomed to the warm August days in Texas. Everything from Merle Haggard to the Grateful Dead floated softly on the warm breezes thanks to Wes’s ability to create that perfect musical flow. In the late afternoon Rick and Meredith opened their gifts including lots of things I didn’t see and also the passing of the Postmaster Commandant of Mars (a painting) to the newly weds. Earlier, circa 1999, the painting found its way to the house that Rick, Wes, and I inhabited – mentioned previously. The piece depicts a blond feathered hair woman in a blue uniform shirt with a background of black and her arm resting on what appears to be a small facsimile of the red planet Mars. As a whole it resembles terrible attempt to paint a Glamour Shot Photo at the same time resembling an astronaut press photo embodied with an aura of truth and wisdom. Wes also gave them a pretty amazing bison skull. Rick’s great aunt Pat gave her truly thoughtful blessings and gifts while James delivered a hilarious speech leaving some to hope he pursues comedy writing as a hobby. Unfortunately, unless you had the ability to find room in your stomach, most missed the cutting of the cake inside the house but those who did were treated to Meredith’s sweet and inspiring wedding song to Rick sung a capella. Swimming trunks as well as boxers and cutoffs were donned as the above ground pool was assailed and turned into a churning whirlpool as five adults ran the perimeter wall. Surprisingly it failed to collapse but we tried our hardest. As the afternoon gave way to the evening friends, family, and neighbors could be seen bidding their farewells and rolling themselves to their vehicles while the hardiest of souls and livers remained. Enter bravely a 1.75 liter bottle of Cazadores! A fast beat techno style song emerged on the sound system. As a present, Rick and Meredith received a large bronze colored hanging sun face which Wes grabbed and held to his face followed by Rick with an iPhone light behind a small plastic moon face. The midnight dance of the sun and moon had begun. Wes is central in the above photo with Rick to the right and Robin and Big Rick’s feet to the left.

On celebration day Rick, as an appetizer, smoked countless deer sausage made from the same deer as the previous days venison backstrap – the deer being taken by Rick from their property. To add to the meatacular banquet six whole chickens were smoked before the seemingly endless hoards of truly great neighbors and loving family members arrived. I personally made 9 gallons of margarita mix to chill in the machines Robin had rented. All the beer, soda, and thankfully water were to be had by all. And another very large bottle of Cazadores Tequila appeared as well . . . via Wes because he likes it’s spiciness. This played an important teaching tale involving Meredith’s sister we’ll delve into later.

Chips with homemade dips, every type of relish imaginable, all types of breads, at least seven different styles of potato salad were counted, sliced home grown tomatoes, practically buckets of all styles of BBQ beans, Sandra’s Salsa (I believe from Wimberley, Texas) made a welcomed appearance. The infamous Sanda’s Salsa was introduced to me via Robin and Big Rick when Rick and another groomsman, Wes, and I were sharing a house while in college. Rick’s parents would bring salsa, deer sausage, and cutlets to our house affectionately named the Popo Faggot. No derogatory meaning was implied it was just one of three domiciles under the umbrella of The House of Prin (I believe Wes created this moniker), the other two being The Rabbit House and The Fast House. More on these another time. And Sandra’s Salsa is outstanding by the way, Rick quickly learned to hide it as best he could.

As Rick was tending to guests Big Rick, Sanda’s husband (sorry forgot his name), and Rick’s Granny, with knives sharpened, made quick work butchering the meats. They have such a close knit family and it was such a joy to see them working together with friends in a seamless way. Sandra’s husband is seen slicing brisket in the photo. He claimed he was having a difficult time keeping the meat from shredding. Big Rick was heard to have said that competition brisket is based on texture and slice-ability and has nothing to do with taste. And that is totally the case. I watched as Big Rick pulled one brisket from Smokey, a smoker resting on a axle with VW hubcaps, and even while being wrapped in foil it was seen to be as loose as a Christmas jello being pulled from a mold. Topped with Robin’s perfectly balanced homemade BBQ sauce it became a delectable treat beyond words. And this was just the main course. Eight different fruit pies were available for dessert as well as two large banana pudding cakes, a huge peach cobbler, a large pecan cake, and a table top sized white frosting cake, one side chocolate the other lemon inscribed with the bride and groom’s name. Many other sweet treats I am sure I failed to mention and I am sorry because I know so much time was taken to make them. Talk about gustatory overload, it was magnificent, a feast of feasts that would have made any Roman proud.

The above photo was taken prior to celebration at around 2:30am and is of Rick’s brother James and Dad, Big Rick, silhouetted against the overhead garage light wrapping brisket to place in smokers in preparation for a 14 hour smoking. Keep in mind one half a brisket’s final cooked weight was just over 3 pounds and they prepared six for the next days festivities. The image was captured after an hour or so of riding shotgun, with Big Rick driving, in Peppie (or maybe Pepe, the family’s 3 seater miniature 4×4 dump truck) across their and adjacent acreage with beers in hand, a long barrel six shooter revolver holstered on my hip, and James seated with a semi automatic assault rifle in center. We attempted but were unsuccessful to find anything of consequence to blast so the bride and groom were safe to sleep through the night (sorry Robin we went anyway). I learned quickly that center was the best seat after my teeth were forcefully brushed by a tree branch as we became lost on the neighbors property and attempted to drive through some tight Texas scrub. A few minutes before that, on Rick’s property, we became stuck going up what seemed like a 45 degree embankment. It is actually pretty difficult to walk up with out falling and busting your knees. Big Rick told James to go out on the hood to balance the weight so the front tires could grab solid ground. He handed me the rifle as he climbed out over the front of the dash board. After about three tries of rolling back and gunning it to no avail James said it might help if we all started bouncing up and down. So, there we were in the middle of the night pitch black all around (besides the piercing lights on the 4×4) hooting, hollering, laughing, and bouncing our way up a steep incline. Damn, what a fun night!

Project description:

Having recently reread (at least part of it) Gregory Bateson’s essay “Style, Grace and Information in Primitive Art” and considering his central question: In what form is information about psychic integration contained or coded in the work of art? I was lead though internal processes to considering Martin Buber’s I & Thou. I admit this could be a completely wrong interpretation or a backward 2 and ½ somersaults with 2 and ½ twists in the piked position onto a logical level considered a schizo-logic leap by some, but trust me the intent is positive. Maybe I think of a better way to say it later. As a subjective experience I believe that psychic integration in art is based on one’s ability to realize the relation of self and others causes self is others. Leading to the recognition of self and others as equally inclusive and exclusive events and the realization of such relationships as one in the same was made concrete in my mind through the practical use of a guiding principle of Neuro-Linguistic Programming: perception is projection and vice versa. Basically what is out there is what is in here. In recent works I have applied these ideas and integrated them into my mode of production (e. g. “I Like the Swedish Artist John Rasimus” in this piece the title was added as text to a work by John Rasimus). I am deliberately choosing to celebrate others accomplishments, lives, and purposes through privileges I have been afforded because my friends are important to me.

In this particular project titled “The Texas Celebration”, photos taken at a post wedding reception/party will be paired with accompanying descriptive text and will serve as a tertiary timeline for a 1 + 1 = 3 event that of friends Rick and Meredith entering a union of matrimony.