January 25, 2002
I remember how tenative our early conversations were about this project. I did feel that same stage fright that I felt the first time I went out with an older man. And then again I flashed back to our earlier encounters: in San Francisco at your show at Artspace, or in Baltimore where you gave me advice on an altar I had built in the middle of the museum.
I was anxious about us working together but felt we had a pretty good chance or getting some place interesting. I didn't think it would get so deep. Any collaboration is a dance. As we started I was really struck by your openess and good will and then as we watched the first tapes I saw us pass through a variety of roles as we got coated: clown, shaman, blackface performer, tarred and feathered, muddy Woodstock attendee, ghoul. I knew it was going to be all right.
One day after working a while we had a conversation looking out at the remains of the Christopher Street piers. You told me how you had first been brought there by Ray Johnson to see the all the art tucked away in the buildings as well as the all the men cruising, lounging. There is something here about mentorship and initiation. Our ages aren't all that different, but in a very real way we face each other across a generational divide: a divide in artistic generations, and in generations of artmaking. Like our kiss, our piece was a bridge across those divides. Thank you for that.