“You’re still with me. That’s good.” Sure, that was the nefarious Mr. C talking to himself–or really BOB–in the mirror of his prison cell, but I share the same sentiment. I’m glad you’re still with us, dearest Filthy Dreams readers, for Lost in the Bang Bang Bar. This week, we’re joyriding through Twin Peaks: The … Continue reading
*pulls slot machine lever* HELLO-OOOOOOOOO!!! Oh, what’s that? Must be time for another installment of our Twin Peaks: The Return rambling series: Lost In The Bang Bang Bar. This time we’re setting our sights on Parts 3 and 4 and whew! As poor wayward Cooper, otherwise known as Mr. Jackpots might say, “Call for help!”: … Continue reading
While I know Filthy Dreams mainly writes about art, I’m convinced the revival of Twin Peaks: The Return, a masterpiece of surrealism, dream states and nightmarish non-linearity might be one of the defining cultural moments of my time. And I’m only on the fourth episode! Take that Whitney Biennial! F off Venice Biennale! So to … Continue reading
I don’t know about you, dearest Filthy Dreams readers, but all week I haven’t been able to do anything but daydream about tonight’s return of Twin Peaks. It’s as if I’ve been stuck in the Black Lodge for twenty five years and boy, it’s finally time to come out! When not watching American democracy crumble … Continue reading
WARNING: The Filthy Dreams’ Black Lodge Elevator Music may trigger hallucinations of rabbits, Laura Palmer, terrible roadhouse bars, disembodied ears, ladies in radiators, Pabst Blue Ribbon, James’ motorcycle ride to cancellation, Robert Blake and David Lynch making quinoa. Continue reading
In the Mattress Factory’s new building at 516 Sampsonia Way, artist Chiharu Shiota’s site-specific installation “Trace of Memory” converts the recently renovated 19th century row house into a haunting meditation on memory. Continue reading
Why hello there! We had a stunning morning here at Filthy Dreams after receiving this fantastic, hilarious and wonderfully and John Waters-esque unsettling e-mailed submission from a Filthy Dreams reader only identifying himself as Dade. We just about spit up our coffee reading his ode to Transcendental Meditation and John Waters as his spiritual guide (as he should be for all of us). Continue reading