
(Photo by Karin Dalziel.)
Hey Folks:
I’ve got deadlines coming out of my ears. No Digest today. I’ll see y’all next week.
In the meantime, Happy Halloween.
xox, C.
Where High Gets Low.

(Photo by Karin Dalziel.)
Hey Folks:
I’ve got deadlines coming out of my ears. No Digest today. I’ll see y’all next week.
In the meantime, Happy Halloween.
xox, C.
A Word Moves in the Shadows and Swells the Draperies, oil and enamel on wood panel, by EJ Hauser at Pluto Gallery in NYC. (Image courtesy of Brent Burket, aka Heart as Arena.)

An installation by Michael De Feo, at the old state penitentiary in Jefferson City, Missouri, a prison that at one point or another housed inmates such as Pretty Boy Floyd, boxer Sonny Liston and James Earl Ray, the man who assassinated Martin Luther King Jr. (Image courtesy of Michael De Feo.)

More like “Democracy is scary.” (Photo by C-M.)
I am going to be so tricked out for Indecision ’08 now that I’ve got the Walker Art Center’s political art buttons (complete with obtuse slogans by Donald Judd and Joseph Beuys) in my hot little hands. Many thank to John Hoffoss in Minneapolis for taking the time and expense to send me the set. I will wear them pride. And a mild sense of hipster irony.
Also: I’m buried under deadlines. No Digest today.
xox, C.

A detail from I’ve Stuck Around, Through Thick and Thin, 2008 by James Gobel. Felt, yarn and acrylic on canvas. (Image courtesy of Steve Turner Contemporary.)

Madeline Tindall, age 9, at the Pensacola Museum of Art. (Photo by C-M.)

Matt Lucero’s concrete boom box on OCMA’s front lawn. It works, using solar power. Even better: it was tuned to a Mexican radio station. My bad: the audio isn’t live radio. It’s a six-minute soundtrack. (Photos by C-M.)
California’s medical marijuana laws are clearly having an impact on the art that is being produced in the state, because the 2008 California Biennial at the Orange County Museum of Art in super-ritzy Newport Beach, is a veritable bonanza of art for stoners: things that spin, optical illusions and 14 minutes worth of atomic explosions. It’s enough to make a girl say, duuude. Not that there wasn’t a good dose of Whitney Biennial-style fare as well. Namely, piles of detritus that blur the line between avant garde art and garage-cleaning day at your parents’ house.
Unfortunately, the buzzkills at OCMA don’t allow photography in the galleries, so I have scant photo documentation. However, as part of the expanding line of services here at C-Monster.net, I would like to provide a rundown of the most stonerrific pieces in the show:
Click on images to supersize. Find a key to the ratings after the jump.
Continue reading ‘Photos: The 2008 California Biennial at OCMA.’

Skewville in L.A. (Photo by C-M.)
A tantalizing combination of white and dark…chocolate. Found at Downey’s in Laguna Niguel, Calif.
On Monday, my dad died. He had endured a bout with an incurable cancer that made his fate inevitable. Even so, I can’t say that I was prepared for the moment in which he took his last breath, a moment that came much sooner than any of us ever anticipated. During the last few weeks, after arriving in California, I made a habit (not sure why) of snapping pix of the sunrises with my cell phone whenever I could. Here’s the series, until the day of his death.
In case y’all were wondering: Felipe Miranda lived a pretty kick-ass life. He drank, he ate, he travelled the world and he had a good time wherever he went. He will be sorely missed.
Here is how I like to remember him.