5/6/10

Public Storage

Public Storage
Some in Los Angeles cleanse their intestines with the same fascination the Japanese reserve for fibre optic camera ear cleaning. More revelatory is the ritualistic gutting of storage lockers: the adept sits, ceremonially drinking from a Big Gulp goblet, legs splayed on the floor of a concrete mausoleum of almost abandoned material remnants, going through old cardboard boxes, their torn, damp walls opening outward like those eggs in "Alien".
The photos I dug up charted a Richter scale of dukha, as well as moments of casual, dopey transcendence, cast with human strays that entered and exited this existence in unknown trajectories, posing inside drug store prints haunted with shafts of supernatural southern California light. Some drawings, unfinished or ripped or forgotten about, reappeared and got saved.