Someone was taking a dump in The John Waters Restrooms at the Baltimore Museum of Art. Was it an art-inspired intestinal emergency or a dedicated tribute to the filmmaker whose major public stink involved Divine sampling some doggy-doo in the filthy finale of Pink Flamingos? Or perhaps, this intrepid museum-goer previously devoured John’s chapter “Act … Continue reading
No. No I don’t want to visit your online viewing room, your digital group exhibition or your virtual gallery. Even more, I don’t want to review your online viewing room, your digital exhibition or your virtual gallery. And Zoom openings? I’d rather go to the opening of my toilet seat. I don’t know about you, … Continue reading
There are a few, select objects that are intrinsic to my sense of home. Objects that, without which, I would feel a fraction less myself. Things that have followed me for years, bearing dust from various flats and houses, collecting traces of skin from various hands. My copies of Nan Goldin’s The Ballad of Sexual … Continue reading
“Maybe I can’t find you, Peter,” darkly exclaims David Wojnarowicz, walking through a cemetery in his essay “Living Close To The Knives” (100). While detailing his harrowing and nerve-wracking attempt to find the grave of photographer Peter Hujar, who Wojnarowicz later describes as “my friend…my brother my father my emotional link to the world,” Wojnarowicz’s … Continue reading
Recently, I realized I was abused as a child. No, I didn’t discover some satanic ritual trauma while going through repressed memory therapy. I visited La MaMa Galleria’s current exhibition Lost Merchandise of the Dreamlanders, which confronted me with an idyllic John Waters-infused childhood I never had–a childhood where I could play tea party with … Continue reading
Why hello there! Come–sit down, take your snow boots off and have a swig from our flask. What are our plans for tonight? Naturally, we’re headed to Beverly Hills…no, of course, not THAT awful Beverly Hills in Los Angeles. We, here at Filthy Dreams, have been waiting with baited breath for tonight’s opening of Beverly Hills John, our … Continue reading
In her short story collection Garden of Ashes, trash starlet, Downtown icon and big-haired and even bigger-mouthed writer Cookie Mueller almost perfectly foreshadows her recently published biography Edgewise: A Picture of Cookie Mueller, writing, “All of the pieces here fit together the way weeds and flowers do in an overgrown eclectic garden. The thing is this … Continue reading