all or nothing #19 - who are you, really?
table of contents
1.events 2.words 3.missed connections 4.horoscope 5.listen
»looking forward
+entrance opening reception+
Without darkness there is no light and without the past there is no present. But what exists between these two states of being? Perhaps an exit or, rather, an entrance? The contemplative painter Aleksandra Dougal provides a glimpse into our collective consciousness through her eerie, large scale landscapes. Venture into the forest of memory on the night of Thursday, April 25, at 6pm at our 119 Hester St location for a celebratory reception.
+/virtu.all open call+
On the internet anything is possible. You can do anything or become anyone. So who will you be? Enter the /virtu.all viewing room to find out. The call is ongoing and all mediums are accepted. Apply now, but never submit because submission is death.
»looking back
+inhale the exhaust opening reception+
There’s two kinds of people in New York: strangers and friends. But for one rainy night in the East Village at a small gallery called All Street, all those on the street became friends. The only gas in the room was laughter as the very walls of the room inhaled the exhaust and exhaled the freedom and connection found through art. Visit our 77 e 3rd st location through May 16th to experience the street magic.
words
+compartmentalized+
As a kid I was considered a liar. In a conversation among adults that I was present for but not a participant in, it was once said that I told the truth only five percent of the time. Although it was apt criticism, it still hurt. The fact that twenty years later I still remember that tells me a lot. I could reason the hell out of my “past” devious nature, ‘cause as a reformed teller of tales, I’m obviously pretty good at arguing, proving a point, playing devil's advocate, and creatively utilizing (inventing) facts, but it’s true, I was a liar. This sounds juvenile as a grand admission, but if you, too, were branded as a mini fibster before you could even read a proper chapter book, then you’d understand that admitting that goes against every impulse in your body. My interest in bending the truth initially stemmed from wanting to test the bounds of what people would believe and what I could get away with. It was the transference of pressure and high stakes into completely meaningless and unnecessary interactions. I saw all people as potential challenges or tests for my imagination and, through purposeful communication and subtle and/or overt shifts in body language, I learned how to get good at the “game” of lying. Being a child helped because adults assume children are genuine, and most kids assume everyone’s genuine. Upon reflection, this sounds like the origin story of a little baby serial killer, but spoiler alert, I became something much worse, an interdisciplinaryconartist. Over time, lying became a sport, which slowly transitioned into stealing, and various other unsavory activities involving deception and trickery. Following the notorious childhood-liar-to-career-criminal pipeline, I started breaking the law in deliberate, low stakes, and controlled ways. While most of my accomplices acted out in attempts to garner attention from their parents, inversely, my motivator was to go completely unnoticed by anyone and simply get away with it. Similarly to successfully crafting a lie, my validation was achieved internally, as everyone had told me I wasn’t supposed to do something yet I did it, and nothing happened. Although I perceived each lie or theft as a mini success, I was never satisfied and mostly just left feeling confused at whether the twinges of guilt I experienced were because I was doing bad things, or because someone had previously told me what I was doing was bad. I didn’t have the vocabulary or understanding at the time, but I was navigating the intersection of morality and perception in attempt to understand my place in the world, AKA growing up. Middle school English class provided a fire opportunity to rebrand, though. I wasn’t a liar anymore — nah, I was a storyteller. After years of grammar exercises and regurgitating facts through book reports, we finally moved on to producing our own original content. My “imagination” could run wild and as long as it ended up written down (confined to the margins of a piece of paper and in line with basic rules of language), my perceived “bad behavior” was magically transformed into a talent. That was a nice outlet for a while, until it wasn’t. Some important context: I had a relatively good childhood, but I think, unfortunately, the point of childhood is to learn how to overcome negative experiences; so, at best, a good childhood is only actually okay because no one in the world comes out totally unscathed. But what's the point of adulthood if not to work out your childhood trauma, right? Anyway, one particularly bad thing did happen to me and nothing at all came of it, and nothing will ever come of it, other than me thinking about it every day. That sounds intense, but I don’t mean “I think about it” in a paralyzing kind of way, just sort of like, when I’m sitting on the train or there’s any moment of quiet, I’ll just be like, “Oh yeah, that happened.” At this point, if I wanted to convince you of something, I’d dive deeper and rationalize my lying as a trauma response. If it occupies my mind in that manner now, I wonder how it did when I was little and the experiences were fresh. But that's me misdirecting and omitting; I had a fondness for lying storytelling long before “it” happened. At a certain point, though, - I can’t even remember or pinpoint exactly when - during my early teenage years, I decided to stop and my definition of cool didn’t include being a liar. That sounds like complete and utter bullshit to me now, so I can only imagine what you’re thinking, but somehow it’s true. There wasn’t some monumental event that changed my perception of the world. I didn’t get caught in a big lie and nearly lose my life or go to jail. If I had to guess, I think my hormones balanced out and reoriented my focus on other things. Ultimately, it’s all just speculation ‘cause I don’t feel like the same person I was growing up. And I question if our entire identities are just based on abstracted memories of who we think we’re supposed to be. A lot of how I move is based on established relationships and dynamics, which all function on an inherent trust of both the past and present versions of myself. Yet I can’t get into the mindset of who I was two months ago, let alone five years ago. Every day I just wake up and try to continue doing whatever yesterday’s version of me thought I should be doing today. My memories are perfectly intact yet my emotions can scatter and fade without any warning. I don’t know if that’s a good thing, but it’s helpful. The anger and sadness I feel in a single moment will dissipate over the course of minutes, but certain things are constant, particularly how I want to lead my life. And one thing I know is that I don’t want to be a liar, but I’m totally cool with being sarcastic.
missed connections
+inhale the exhaust opening reception
you: inhaled
me: exhausted
description
You took my breath away. Please return it immediately.
+all st team meeting
you: in the “gang”
me: in the “squad”
description:
Are we artists? Are we friends? Are we pizza pals? Are we a semi-erotic fight club? Let’s stop this “will they, won't they” back and forth and just define our relationship once and for all. We’re a cult collective.
+figure drawing 4.16
You: a kendrick fan
Me: a drake fan
Description:
They said it was the romance that could never be, but we defied the odds. I suggested Kendrick for the class playlist, you suggested Drake. I glared, you glared back. My gaze softened, your gaze softened. I looked away nervously, as did you did. Then, we both looked back sheepishly, continuing this dance for the rest of the class.
horoscopes
+Aries+
Your first friend is a shadow, your second friend is imagined, your third friend is of flesh, but your only friend is you.
+Taurus+
You don’t meet friends, you recognize them. So next time you look in the mirror, take note of what you see. The familiar may be comforting, but the unknown has been there all along, just waiting to be seen.
+Gemini+
Leading off today is a scavenger hunt. The list is short but comprehensive. Go forth and find a magnifying glass. And it must be small. I’m talking pocket sized. And not like jacket pocket sized, but like shirt pocket size. You know how those old-timey detectives have them big old magnifying glasses with the handle and everything? Well, not those. I’m talking about the really small see-through plastic ones they had in science class. By the time it took you to read that long winded description of magnifying glasses, you should have found the right one, and if you didn’t, the rest of the journey may be too metal for you. Anywho, slip that pocket sized magnifying glass into the pocket of your pink oxford button down. If you're not wearing it already, then you obviously can't read too good, but we’ll excuse it just this once. Now that you’re fully equipped, go to the roof of your apartment building and locate the place on the roof that gets the most sun. Harness the fiery celestial beams of the heavens through your magnifying glass and hold it there until you see smoke, then stop immediately. Science is fun, but arson is not. Identify the part of the roof that was smoking and draw a circle around the likely slightly singed patch. Take a picture. Caption the picture, “Too much light can burn, whereas too much darkness will make you sleepy.” Post it. On one of your burner accounts, comment, “Sleep can invoke flames for those laying in a bed of unrepented sins.” On your other burner account, comment, “Solar power is a hoax.” Then sit back and watch.
+Cancer+
Control is an invention of the mind to maintain the ego, for true self acceptance is to embrace complete and utter chaos. So stop making choices and start destroying them.
+Leo+
They say ignorance is bliss, but to ignore is an active choice of inaction. Thus, you are not only lying to yourself, but also to others. You only further bury the lie to hide the fact from yourself that you are, in fact, a liar, too. Even if it's a lie of omission, it will eventually come to the surface.
+Virgo+
Those same eyes you’re reading this very sentence through belong not only to you, but also to the memories of those that both love and despise you. So look carefully.
+Libra+
While freedom can be found in unburdening, so can loneliness. You’ll find that without the weight of your shadow, you’ll drift freely to places darker than you ever could have imagined before.
+Scorpio+
A famous Canadian once said, “It's only me, but I'm seeing four shadows in the light.” To some, that may sound confusing, while to others it may sound poetic. But to us, it sounds like a challenge. So how does one create four shadows from one body, you may ask? Well, it’s simple: you need four light sources coming from four different directions. Thus, the more light, the more darkness.
+Sagittarius+
Projection is only a sleight of hand trick, creating a bandaid rather than a fix. True alchemy cannot be done with the manipulation of light, for it is a fickle beast untamable by man. Fires flicker. Electricity pulses. The sun dances in and out of view. Light can be held, but not held down. Yet when true darkness falls, it lasts forever.
+Capricorn+
When the moon isn’t full, where does the rest of it go? Just because you can’t see it doesn’t mean it’s not there. Sometimes, what you can’t see is even realer than what you can. Depending on how you look at it, that is.
+Aquarius+
The sun allows you to see what’s in front of you, but the darkness allows you to see what’s inside. To achieve balance between the two is to externalize the internal and become all seeing.
+Pisces+
Everyone can see right through you.
playlist
+Send us your writing, ideas, notes, observations or anything you want to gallery@allstnyc.com to be considered for future editions of all or nothing+
Image credits: Aleksandra Dougal, process sketches for paintings featured in her All Street solo exhibition, Entrance.