Great Blood Sacrifice





I know it's horrible to begin with a shot of the landscape through a moving car. I am ashamed to be doing such a thing, but what can I do — here already is the footage unreeling.



Somehow, though I don't mind shots of walking.


I had a dream last night. I was in a room with Joy Behar and she had wrapped a dog in aluminum foil and the dog couldn't get out. It was trying to get out. It was walking into things. I was afraid the dog was going to hurt itself. But then it got loose, and it bit Joy, and Joy shrugged and said, "Comedy is dangerous."


So then when I woke up, I checked my email and I had a Google alert. It linked to a review of Vivan Dick at Artists' Space and it said that one of her works has a tone situated between Steve Reinke's lazy confessions and Su Friedrich's more formally precise autobiographical films. And I thought, Hey, you know it's great to be mentioned alongside Su Friedrich, but really my work is also formally precise. Whatever is going on on top, there is a precise machine at work below. And this machine is digging little grooves, and these grooves slowly join together and become the conduits by which all meaning is drained from the world.