artsHMusicHculture

march 2010
Volume Two | Issue Two
FHi de Out . or g
table of contents | March 2010 | Volume two | issue two
teeka a. Ballas
executive content editor
Grace e. Byrd
rebecca Goodrich
serine Halverson
lindsay Johnson
theodore Kincaid
Jesus landin-torrez iii
William Neth
riza Parsons
leighann seaman
Jimmi Ware
Gretchen Weiss
executive design editor
C
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letter from the editors:
Six years ago, the Bush Administration frst announced the need
tofocusandimprovemathandscienceintheacademicspheretocurtail
the brain drain in America and make the country more competitive in the
GlobalEconomy.
Its easy to see and agree with this notion. Economically it makes
sense. But it is important to remember that the arts are an equally vital
ingredient to any healthy society. And they have certainly been more
fnanciallyhamperedinacademiathantheirleftbrainedcounterparts.
PresidentObamarecentlyreiteratedthepreviousadministrations
educationgoals,yetwhenhewasswornin,whowasinvitedtoperformand
celebratehisinauguration?ArethaFranklin,ItzakPerlman,JohnWilliams,
Yo-Yo Ma, Herbie Hancock, the poet, Elizabeth Alexander, and a whole
slewofothernoteworthymusicianswhoallcametogethertoperformone
song. Not a single mathematician or scientist was invited to stand up and
speaktorepresentthehistoricmomentofthe44
th
presidentbeingsworn
into offce (though the Obaminoes mural for the event was based on a
designbymathematicianRobertA.Bosch).
A society needs science and math to not only propel its populace
forward, but also to care for it. The arts, however, are what defne the
societysculture,itspolitics,itsmores,itsnuances.
We here at F Magazine are dedicated to doing our part in
upholdingandexemplifyingtheimportanceofartasadefnitiveaspectof
ourculture.
Wehopeyouenjoythisissue.Manyartistswereinvolved,andwe
hopemanymorewillcontinuetobe.
VivalasArtes!
-Theeditors
For the Love of Grapef rui t
Jesus Landin-Torrez III
10
You Owe Me 40 Dol l ars
Grace E. Byrd
11
Losi ng Harmony
Jimmi Ware
12
Aphasi a, or, Pl an B
Rebecca Goodrich
13
W. A. T. T. : Star Wars
Theodore Kincaid
14

Andrew Kerosky
Dancing down the street of dreams
1
Jsun
The keeper of culture
6

Map
Where the art is
16

F Magazine
fhideOut.org
artzineF@gmail.com
206.651.5324
Cover photo by Serine Halverson
Back cover photo by Gretchen Weiss


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Liquid Movement
On this stage we cant get hurt,
dOnt try tO understand me.
rOb thOmas
Existentialism. Dostoevsky. The overarching
needofthehumancondition.
These are not concepts that cross your mind
when youre stuck at the light at 15
th
and Gambell,
watching Andrew Kerosky dance by the side of the
road.
Hemaycatchyourattentionforafewmoments
asyougetcaughtupinfollowingthemovementsofhis
arms and legs, like kinetic Mbius strips, but its easy
to dismiss him with a judgmental word once the light
changes.
Hisexuberancemightmakeyoufeelthreatened
and you roll down the window to hurl a few insults at
him.
Oryoumightsmileandgoonyourway,feeling
inexplicablybetterabouttheworld.
I thought for sure the poor guy had lost a bet
whenIdrovebyhimforthefrsttimelastsummer.Then
thelightturnedgreenandIforgotabouthim.Untilthis
story.
Story By Riza Parsons :: Photos By Serine Halverson

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Free your mind
When I meet with
Andrew, he is feeling a little
undertheweather,drinkingfrom
a big jug of juice and protected
fromtheelementsbyhisbrown
waffed beanie. He is gracious
and earnest, striving to explain
himselfcompletelyandhonestly
from the very frst question.
Whichwas,Whydanceonthe
corner?
Like so many things in
life,thereisnoshortanswer.
His car broke down on
thatcornerandAndrewdanced
to stay warm while he waited
forhisride.Itfeltright.Hehad
just dropped out of flm school
and needed a new conduit of
expression. It felt right. Two
weeksafterhiscarbrokedown,
he acted on a whim and went
backtothatgasstation.Hewent
back every Friday after that.
After four years of dancing, it
stillfeelsrighttoAndrew.
What the average
viewerdoesntseewhentheyare
observinghimforafewseconds
is the 20-car pileup of random
thoughts thats interfering with
his cerebral freeway. He spouts
obscure literary quotes with as
muchfamiliarityasaMatchbox
20lyric.Whenhestartstalking
about catharsis, and cultures
of waste, then veers off into
the territory of philosophical
Russian literature, I begin to
understand what he means when
hesaysthatdancinghelpskeep
himsane.
When I came back
to Alaska after I dropped out,
I was a much different person
thanwhenIleft.Ifeltalienated
from my friends, hopeless, no
dreamsits a struggle that
everyone goes through, trying
to fnd purpose. Andrew
looks down at his worn copy
of Emerson as he says this and
seemstofndinspirationinit.
EmersoniswhatIread
whenIneedsomethingpositive
and intelligent. He relates a
letter written by Ralph Waldo
Emerson to Martin Van Buren
that implores him not to send
Andrews Listening List
1. Brother Ali - daylight
2. The Wallfowers - One Headlight
3. dar williams - Are You Out There?
4. Legion of do0m - Hands Down Gandhi
5. Bruce Springsteen - Dancing in the Dark
6. Eminem - Lose Yourself
7. Hootie and the Blowfsh - Drowning
8. Nas - One Mic
9. Outkast - Rosa Parks
10. Jamiraquoi - Canned Heat


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the Cherokees on the Trail of Tears, and
Imsurprisedtoseehiseyesmoisten.His
empathywiththeirsufferingisapparent,
never mind the huge cultural and
historical divide. The Brothers Karamazov
byDostoevskylikewisemoveshim.
ThisisnotwhatIexpectedtotalk
aboutwhenIsetupaninterviewwiththe
guywhodancesduringrushhourtraffc.
ButImenjoyingthis;Andrewisarticulate
andcurious,moreintrospectivethanalot
of23-year-olds.Imaybetheonewiththe
notepad,butAndrewhasmorequestions
thanIdo.
I feel like I could have done a
lotmorebynow.Allmyfriendsaregoing
to Yale and Harvard, doing meaningful
things,thingsIcantdo.Itgivesmeasense
ofpersonaltragedyandbitterness.
I suggest that there is a reason
for everything, a reason his other plans
didntpanout.
Yeah. I get that. Theres this
quoteIlike,Actonsomethingbeforeyou
canunderstandit.ThatswhatIdidwith
this dancing thing. I still grapple with
whyIdoit,butImnotgoingtostop.Im
drivenbythesefeelingshalfarepositive,
halfarenegative.Anger,rejection,disgust
at human nature. How can people NOT
danceonthestreetcorner?Buttheother
halfispositive.WhenIdance,Ifeelthis
ishowtheworldshouldbe.Establishing
a connection with strangers, outside of
constructs like race and sex. Youre not
allthatdifferentfromme.
Dance fever

While Andrew identifes with
everyone, he defnitely dances to his
ownuniqueDJset.Hecallshisdancing
liquid and compares it to hip-hop,
popping and locking, although it is none
of those things. Its as if a subterranean
beat has started somewhere in his body
and must travel fuidly through all his
limbsbeforeitcanfnditswayout.
Wheredidhelearnthisparticular
style?
I never really learned. If you
want an honest, yet embarrassing,
answer, it would be YouTube. Im in
awe of the art and how it looks and the
extraordinariness of it. Theres this
FrenchguynamedBishopX.Also,David
Elsewhere, Poppin John, Skywalker. I
watchpeoplewhoarebetterthanmyself
andcopythatcomplexity.
Fairview is his theater and
practicestudio,forbetterorworse.Until
hefeelstrulythreatenedthere,Andrews
showmust,anddoes,goon.
Infouryearsofdedicateddancing,
hehasonlymissedthreeFridays.
The frst time I was sick with
monoandstillwent.Isatinalawnchair
withasignthatsaid,Sorry,Imsickand
waved at the cars. I tried dancing for a
fewminutes,butithurtprettybad.Plus,
I had a 103-degree fever. In retrospect,
I probably shouldnt have driven out
there.
I am amazed at this level of
commitment.Itsnotajob,wherehellget
introublefornotshowingup,andyethe
makeseverypossibleefforttobethere.
The second time, he was out of
townforafuneral,butarrangedtohavea
substitutedanceinhisplace.Thiscatches
me even more off guard. First, that the
idea of a substitute would even cross his
mind,andsecond, thatsomebodyagreed
todoit.
You must have really good
friends,Isay.
I do. The third time I missed a
Friday,Ihadtheswinefu.Mymomisa
doctorandshequarantinedme.SoIhad
tocallaround,haveasignmadethatsaid
Swine Flu Victim see you next week,
havesomeoneelsepickitupandputiton
thecorner.Peoplewroteallkindsofnice
messagesonit.Istillhaveit.
Andrew admits that there are
some people who are openly hostile, but
95percentofthereactionsarepositive.
I have a feeling it wouldnt matter even
if the percentages were reversed. After
dancingallnightonthecorner,heheads
toClubSorayaorPlatinumJaxxtodance
somemore.

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Outside of the box-step
Andrewisabigpartofthedancecommunity,
taking salsa, ballroom, swing and modern dance,
assistant teaching ballet classes, and you guessed
itmanagingalltheLibertyTaxsignwaversaround
town.Itsonlyfttingthathetakeschargeofthismotley
costumedcrewandgivesthemtipsondancing.
Hes also venturing back into his original
passion.
Im working with some friends on making
anindiemovie.Itwillbeasequeltoamoviewemade
in high school. The main character is a PBS studio
personality whos about to have his studio bought
outbycorporatetelevision.Hehasonenighttoearn
enoughmoneythroughatelethontogetitback.
Im almost afraid to ask if it has a happy
ending.Atonepoint,Andrewfreelyadmittedthathe
oftenbecomesdepressed.
Thats theartistinyou,Ireplied.
No, I think its the human in me, he
riposted.
Touch.
thats what its all about!
Afterdescribinghisnewproject,Andrewhas
onemoreexampleofliterarylargessetobestow.
J.R.R.Tolkienwasalinguistbytrade,and
he came up with the term eucatastrophe. The eu
meansgoodinGreek,andbasicallyitmeansahorrible
event that happens from which good things arrive.
Theres a bad event, then a good reaction comes out
spontaneouslyagainstit.Goodwillalwaysoverpower
thebad.
Andrew takes a healthy swig of his juice,
clearshisthroat.
Ithinkthatsagoodmetaphorforlife.
Andrews reAding List
1. The Brothers Karamazov
- Fyodor Dostoevsky
2. Blessed Unrest
- Paul Hawken
3. Tuesdays with Morrie
- Mitch Albom
4. the silmarillion
- J.r.r. Tolkein
5. Hot, Flat and Crowded
- Thomas L. Friedman
6. the Social Contract
- Jean Jacques Rousseau
7. the Complete Sherlock Holmes
- Sir Arthur Conan Doyle
8. Two Treatises of Government
- John Locke
9. Dune
- Frank Herbert
10. the P0rtable Emerson
- Edited by Carl Bode and Malc0lm Cowley
"

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Story by Teeka A. Ballas :: Photos by Leighann Seaman
TheInternationalGalleryofContemporaryArtisamleofpersonalitiesandstyles.Itattracts
curiosityandexportsuniqueandbizarre.Andtoemphasizethis,anewmanhasbeenputonthe
payrollwhocertainlyftstheexportablequalifcations.Hebringswithhimawildportfolioandan
attachcasefullofintriguingcharacteranomalies.


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ofmountainsofcrap.Hefndsartin
ghosts, scraps from someones long
forgotten life, junk that once was
someones sentimental memorabilia,
a household item pined for and
treasured until it lost its allure. He
has been referred to as the most
collectedartistinAnchorage.
Idontknowifthatstrue,butthat
sure would be nice, he says with
a grin that reveals false modesty.
The only reason I would be the
most collected artist in Anchorage
is because the people who have it
havenoideabecauseImadeitthat
way If you give stuff away, then
obviously youre going to be the
most collected artist in Anchorage,
right? He thrusts at me a plain
white sticker with three words:
Love, Order, Stillness and no
insigniaonit.Sothere.Nowyoure
one of the people that has my art.
Its ephemeral. People dont realize
thattheyjustgotitandmaybethey
justthrowitaway.
Jsun isnt very concerned with
whether people understand his
art or if they read meanings into it
otherwiseunintendedbyhim.
the Man
Jsun Parizo, known just as Jsun to most, was allegedly born Jesus Charlesjeremiah
Parizo(whenyoureakidontheplaygroundintheMidwest,kidscanbecruel).He
isinfactamanofmanynames:JesusLandin-TorrezIII,Nusj,JeremiahJesseJames,
plainbrownwrapper, Marlo Shotgun, and Dr. Shotgun. One of them might even be his
realname.
When I inquire about Dr. Shotgun, he gives me a sly sideways look and says
completely deadpan, I have no idea who Dr. Shotgun is. No. Of course he doesnt.
AndasthenewcuratoratIGCAImsurehesneverheardoftheGhostofDr.Shotgun
either,whoisslatedtodoanexhibitthere,March2
nd
thewilyghostwillbelockedin
thegalleryfor24hourscommunicatingwiththeworldofthelivingviaFacebookonly.
Andhesneverheardofhim.
Photographer,poet,musician,sculptor,printmaker,andformerlythemanagerofthe
UAA Student Union Gallery, Jsun, a man of both myth and unbound talent, has had
ahandinnumerousprojectsaroundAnchorage.Hisname(anyoneofthem)hasbeen
appliedtotheAnonymousArtAsylumandSocialClub,TheElectricCompany,Margin
Release, Paint-by-Number: An Interactive Community Collaborative (later showcased
onbodiesatlastmonthsObjectRunway),andBrickCo.ArtistsConstruction.Buthe
seldomtakessolecreditforanyoftheseprojects.
the Modesty
A small, scruffy-faced man, with a Russian cap lackadaisically perched on his head,
Jsunwouldlooklike90percentofthe30-somethingmeninAlaskawereitnotforhis
brightly colored clothing and eccentric hats. He has a knack for making treasures out

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LastmonthheandhisfriendMichael
were discussing the word dichotomy
andhowitsthrownabout.
Itslikeoneofthepseudo-intellectual
words that gets overused all the time,
hesays.Soinapseudo-intellectualway,
Michael and Jsun applied the term to
an installation they put on at IGCA:
large 3D cows (hes very pleased with
those!) with Valentines Day cards for
hearts; they then lined the room with
100 cards that opened to Barry White
singing, Youre my frst, my last, my
everything
Wewerelike,Whatsthespacegoing
to be like? Not necessarily thinking
aboutthemessage.Althoughyoucould
write pages about the rhetoric, about
whatthismeansasfarasconsumerism,
what Valentines Day means and all of
this blah blah blah. But we just put
itup.
LikeBobDylan,anartistwithleagues
of depth to his lyrics, and mountainous
volumesofinterpretationwrittenabout
them, Jsun is laissez faire about his
artistic motivation and what defnition
peopleapplytohisart.
Whenever Im asked, Why? Its
like:Whynot?Notlikethatsananswer
toanything,butitsareallygoodevasive
answer.
the ranter
Jsun has a propensity to exhale long
strands of verbose non-sequiturs. Our
interview commences and he dives into
a nonsensical deluge of words about
a newsletter at his place of work (he
holds a non-artistic day job too) that
he has not bothered to read. Evidently
he has no love for the artistically void
workplacenewsletter.
JusttellmewhatIneedtoknow,he
saysemphatically.Theresnotlikethat
manypeoplethatyoucantjustverbally
vocalizeitIthinkpeoplerealizethey
dont read it unless they want to, and
were only going to read it if were
not busy or were bored. So therefore,
if youre reiterating in the newsletter
[whats already been said] then whats
thenewsletterfor?
Heshakeshisheadincredulously.He
almostmakesagoodpoint.
But youre a person whos put out
all sorts of scraps of readable material.
Dont you hope someone will take the
timetoreadit?Iask.
Thats true, but with the point of
putting out whatever you put out,
without the intent of people actually
readingit,thenthereisntanaudience.
His defense is lost but he continues to
attempt to reel it in. Lets take Love,
Order, Stillness. Like those three
words, theres your bullet point, theres
your soundbite. But then inside theres
a little thing: How the Night Passed
and Eating and In-Love. Theres tons
of literature in there, beautiful little
gems.. How many people read them?
I havent. Im not even sure its a real
publication, but I dont ask, for fear of
himlosinghistrainofthoughtandtaking
usonanentirelydifferentrant.Idont
know, and frankly, I dont care. The
thingis,itsalreadyover.Itwasalready
over. It happened So therefore with
a newsletter, youre trying to convey
informationtomakepeopledoorknow
things
So what youre saying is, you didnt
read the newsletter and thats why
you dont know anything about the
event going on at the place you work
tonight.
I didnt read the newsletter, he
concedes.Idontknowwhatsgoingon
tonight.
the artist
Jsuns personality and style are
reminiscent of Andy Warhol. Though
hesmorepronetorantingthanWarhol
ever was, Jsun likes to give dull,
evasive, even misleading answers. Hes
not as seemingly egotistical as Warhol,
norquiteaseccentric,butliketheartist
who brought pop to the formula, Jsun
seemstohaveaffectionforinterpreting
popular culture; he takes its waste and
debris and transforms it into anonymous
art.
Lastyear,incollaborationwithother
local artists, Jsun brought Brick Co.
to Anchorage. The event allowed local,
relatively unknown artists to have a
viewing arena. It entailed a U-Haul
truck that moved from alleyway to
alleyway, dodging police, showcasing
anarrayoftalentintheback.
Recently Jsun and his artistic
colleague,JimmyRiordanputtogether
an installation at APUs Carr Gottstein
Gallery, a retrospective of the Brick
movement that was here in the early
1990s.
There was a whole bunch of people.
One was Evelyn Thompson, who I
actually got to talk to and I replicated
a whole bunch of her work for the
show.Heissosincereandstolidabout
thedetails.Youcantfndanyofthese
people.Therestwoofthem,Evelynand
Mason Lizell (sic?) that I was able to
contact They had a lot of weird art.
Jimmy found some stuff, like this one
guy,NeilBrownwhocuthiscabininto
awholebunchofpiecesandadditioned
themashisart,becausehekindofwent
crazy.
myth has driven
and sustained
much Of the human
existence since
the beginning Of
cOmmuni cat i On.
thOse that pursue
the truth are just
chasing a desert
mirage.
--jsun parizO


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"
Jsunseyesgoalightasheshareswithmethedetailsofthe
originalBrickcontributors.
Mostofthemkindofdissipated.LikeMason.Hestopped
doingworkandhewaspartofthedotcomboom.Hesgota
wholeshitloadofmoneyinL.A.rightnow.MasonandEvelyn
(shes teaching flm in Barcelona right now) they came up
hereinexilefromtheLower48fromwhattheythoughtwas
theover-commercialismofthe80s.
Itallseemssoreal.
the Myth
Jsunsartisanythingbutpredictable,saysWilliamNeth,
a local artist who knows Jsuns work well. Where most art
is created on a rectangular canvas or sculpted and put on a
pedestal, his work defes the accepted norms. It is defnitely
notonapedestalorinarectangle.
In fact, youd be hard pressed to fnd anything Jsun has
created that can be easily and readily consumed by the
masses.
You cant pigeonhole him into anything, says William
withadrylaugh.AndIthinkhegetsakickoutofit.
Perhaps its this fact alone that compels Jsun to expertly
create fction out of the simplest details in conjunction with
notonlyhisart,butalsohispersonalidentity.
The APU retrospective Brick installation is comprised
of characters youd be hard pressed to fnd on any Internet
search.
Something you need to know about Jsun, William
confdes,themythismoretruethanthetruth.
Does that mean anything? It must to Jsun. Without any
prompting,thedayafterourconversation,Jsunsendsmean
e-mail.
The truth is an abstract concept in this day and age
and really has been throughout history. It reads as a
confession. Myth has driven and sustained much of the
human existence since the beginning of communication.
Thosethatpursuethetrutharejustchasingadesertmirage.
Hiswordscanalmostbeconstruedasacondescending
insultreminiscentofearlyinterviewswithDylan.
Mythshavebeenproventobetrueandtruthsproventobe
mythsandmostofthetimetheybecomeblurred,intertwined
and indistinguishable. In the end it is all just what we want
tobelieve.
Im neither offended nor intrigued. I am merely content
to observe the inner machinations of a complex artist who
producesmyriadartisticabilities.Theendproductisnotonly
captivatinganddeeplysatisfyingtoconsume,butthemystery
ofwhoJsunisandwhathemeansmakeshisartallthemore
compelling. The truth, it turns out, does not necessarily
matter.
SaysJsun,Thetruthisanabstractconcept.

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{jimmi ware}
why don t we don t si ng anymore?
just rap songs gone wrong
it seems we don t dream anymore
just dazed and confused
gospel gone bl ues
Our once uni ted voi ces
made powerful choi ces
we made an i mpact and our ki ds
were on track for the cause
stevi e penned the memorabl e
verses that we understood
there was l ove i n the vi l l age
now there i s hate i n the hood
Li fe was once good
we pl ayed l i ke chi l dren shoul d
Laughed i n the rai n
educati on was no game
we fed our brai n wi th knowl edge
from fal l to spri ng but why i s i t
we no l onger si ng
if i compose a mel ody
in the sweetest key
wi l l you si ng wi th me?
when di d WE become ME?
too many l i vi ng sel fi shl y
somewhere out there
a song i s wai ti ng for us
a j oyful chorus on a di stant shore
al l i know i s
we j ust don t si ng anymore
the greats are gone
who wi l l rewri te redempti on songs?
who wi l l care enough to pen a new score?
can t we come together j ust once more?
thi s i s what i m hopi ng for
uni ty deserves an encore
L
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By Rebecca A. Goodrich

MCS,saidthedoctor.
I wanted to rip his
throat out. A diagnosis
that rendered no healing.
Multiple Chemical
Sensitivity.
Sensitive the wrong
word, the wrong thing to
say after evaluating the
formaldehyde from the
houseboat, the Los Angeles
smog,fvemonthsofcarbon
monoxide that had done
a Patty Hearst on
my brains speech
centers.
Dont worry
too much
you got your
e x e c u t i v e
function back.
Something not
everyone can
say.
H e
didnt know about the
teenage schizophrenia, the
healedblood-veinscars.The
sixteen years of stuttering.
AllofwhichIovercame.
But what about the years
my children lost when
their mother was fumbling,
stumbling, poisoned. What
about those years, and
how they confrmed my
daughters opinion of me.
How could I overcome
that?
Why cant I talk right? I
wanted to scream. But no
words came out through
mytongue,mymouth.
Justavoidperfume
andotherchemicals.
Youre in better
shape than lots of
people with 21st
Century Disease.
He patted my
shoulder in a
c o m r a d e l y
fashion.
I was
tired of
b e i n g
better than
lots of
people. I
wanted to
be better
thanme.
I
n o d d e d .
Du mb l y,
idiotically.
Ileft.
On the
way home
a radio
s t a t i o n
o f f e r e d
t w a n g y
bl uegr as s
by folksong singers who
exaggerated a livin-in-the-
holler Kaintucky accent. I
was envious of even that
off-keything.Threedaysof
chlorineexposurehadmade
itimpossibletore-attainthe
lyric soprano that had once
leaptthroughmythroatand
chest,resonating.
I punched buttons and
fipped things: am fm
am. There. Something
without words. A wild,
yet disciplined, athletic
surfng beat. There I was,
jumping over
each wave,
a c h i e v i n g ,
each time,
being alive
and a little
farther from the beach.
Oh and then the musical
bridge, the smooth or not
so smooth being carried by
a huge roller in a time that
stretched out forever in
a perfect combination of
water, sand, and sun, until
you had to remember you,
indeed,hadfeet.
I couldnt play a note to
save my life. I slammed the
radio off. Then I turned off
thecar.EvidentlyIddriven
onto the shoulder while I
was surfng that memory.
A parked car. That was
good. Safer for everybody.
I looked out over the bay,
aiming for a Zen-like mode
of contemplation, trying to
smoothoutthecontractions
of my muscles. Water, sky,
water. Blue, gray. Blue,
gray.Andturquoiseandteal
and green. And the clouds.
Many,manyclouds.
No, no ,no. I couldnt
be alone with myself. Up
the road, one of the frst of
the towns many seasonal
festivities. Walking, yes,
walkingwouldbegood.
Hot dogs and reindeer
sausagestands.Scarvesand
salmon and hats. Dulcimer
players I hurried past.
Pottery. Uh oh. Artwork.
Acrylics and oils. I slowed
down. I couldnt help
myself. By the time I got
to the painters tent, I was
movingasslowlyasastone.
Her back was turned
to me, to all of us. Her
shoulders were serene. She
was painting, painting. But
it didnt look like paint. It
looked like her brush was
singingcolorsontothepaper.
Sometimesshepaused.And
with her I watched the
watercolor move sometimes
onitsownthroughthepores
ofthepaper,withoutfurther
encouragement.
She turned to me and
smiled.Iwas,already.Then
she moved the beautifully
colored paper to the side,
where some others were
drying. Another beautiful
sheet of empty whiteness
came to rest on the table.
Myhand,allbyitself,briefy
reachedouttoit.
She swished the brush
in the glass, cleaning it.
She swabbed it over some
newsprint. And then she
handedthebrushtome.
APHAsiA, or, PLAn b
her brush was singing
cOLOrs OntO the paper.
I
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2010
W.A.t.t.
::

Star wars
Story & photos by Theodore Kincaid
Every culture is defned by a shared
experience whether it is art, politics,
war, music or an STD. For my
generation it was an onslaught of cross-
generationalaimedmediawithsupported
merchandizing.Itdefnedandengrained
thebrandnameAmericanexperienceinto
ourpre-consumermindsatanearlyage.
For sociologists the 1980s are known
for the hyper-materialism that ensued
from the new predominant two-
household income, extended credit and
consumption-focused economy. But for
me you could sum the 80s up in two
words: Star Wars. Anyone who was
a kid or young adult in the late 70s or
80ssawStarWars,andifyouwereaboy
you lived it! It was your dream to own
a Storm Trooper costume, or hang out
with Yoda in his strange little hut, and
getsomelovefromCarrieFisher.Thisis
whatunitedus.
When it was frst advertised that the
Star Wars exhibit was fnally coming to
theAnchorageMuseum,Iwentballistic.
Iabsolutelyhadtoseetheinteriorofthe
Millennium Falcon before all the local
fan-boys whipped their greasy dick-
beaters all over the thing. I also knew I
hadtosomehowgetthegirlfriendtohave
sexwithmeonit.Ihadtoditchthatidea,
butcanyouimagine?Thebraggingrights
would be enormous! I mean, really, can
you think of a better place? The closest
thingIcanthinkofistheOvalOffce,but
everybodyhassexintheOvalOffce.
My head was flled with stars at the
very idea of the exhibit, but everything
changed when I arrived for the special
press and media viewing. The exhibit
starts off with the original land speeder
usedinthefrstmoviealongwitharemote
control version of it used in a long shot.
The fgurines were aged and dodgy and
the speeder looked silly on its plate-rim
wheels. The press crew then headed up
tothethirdfoor,andtheguideproceeded
toleadthegrouparoundthemainstayof
the show: Costumes, props, sciency shit,
crapforthekidstoplaywith,agiftstore
oftheusualcollectorjunkandthatwasall.
AllofitwasoriginalandIhadseeneach
and every one of these artifacts before.
BeingabigfatnerdIcouldeventellyou
how they made the props, which scenes
they were from and some of the behind
thescenespersonaldramathatwasgoing
onbetweenLucasandtheactors.
The overall experience of the exhibit
wasabitofaletdown.Theartifactswere
asoldasmyfandom,butlesslively.
There was one prop, however, that
I took a keen interest in: A 9-pronged
wire harness sticking out the back of
Lukes X-Wing fghter model they used
inthefrstmovie.Thisharnessgrounded
the X-Wing and tethered it to reality, a
mechanical device no longer shrouded
in illusion. It was like running into
a Hollywood heartthrob at a bar and
having them say something completely
ignorant, then shift in their seat to let
out a fart. At that moment the magical
icon became simplistically tangible.
Star Wars shifted from this glamorous,
seamless and impenetrable movie to a
seriesofscenesthatsomebutt-scratching
dudesinunfashionablet-shirtsandjeans
tootighttocomplimenttheirburgeoning
bodies compiled with real life items and
people totell a story.Star Warswasno
longersomethingonlyGeorgeLucasand
his cronies could do, but something that
anyonecouldhavedonewithsomefancy
cameraanglesandtightedits.
The religion was debunked and God
wasshowntobeaseriesofmathematical
equations. Looking at that wire harness
openeduppossibilities.Aweandworship
turned to respect and understanding.
With this wire harness epiphany, my
love for Star Wars matured and became
corporeal, no longer a mere childhood
veneration.
Kincaid is an artist, a big fat nerd that likes to
play with action figures when nobody is looking
and regular contributor to F Magazine.
Sendhatemailto:
HookHandMonkeyAss@yahoo.com
it was Like running
intO a hOLLywOOd
heartthrOb at a
bar and having
them say sOmething
c O m p L e t e L y
ignOrant, then shift
in their seat tO Let
Out a fart.


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2010
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