I going to be an art handler tomorrow

I got in trouble for touching some famous painting or another when I was a wee lad

As in, like, transporting art? My friends Jerry and Laurel do this for a living.

remeber the idiots at sotherbys who shredded the Freud , dont do that . If handling sclupture use yr knees and working w. works on paper is more of a pita then its worth.

NB: The only art-handling I've done has set off alarms in at least two NYC-area museums. I'm constitutionally incapable of not wanting to touch things that appeal. So in a way it could be very cool. I have handled a lot of original illustrations in the book biz but I'm sure that's different.

Take a hammer and Ginsu to everything and tell the horrified curators, "I'm recontextualizing.....--point ginsu at them--....check this out yall....I'm gonna need all your kneecaps for this next one...."

Hey, Tracer, are you hanging at the Armoury Show? Got any tips about getting in free over the weekend, or getting an invite to the opening banquet without forking up a trillion ddddddollars?

You'll be lucky. The MoMA party is $200 per ticket, and that's only for the pleb element. The chi-chi tickets are $500. *I know, I know...*

Anyway why not ring one of your friends whose galleries are showing there? They'd know. I told Stuart to mail you but he says he might be too busy (but mentioned a Gursky something he was going to). Happy ligging!

My parents used to find me asleep in various modern scultptues on family day outs and once thay caught me rearranging a significant pile of stones.

Wow, I'm exhausted. I wrapped up a Red Grooms piece today! Momus it's not hanging or anything it's pure grunt work in a warehouse. I got to meet C*dy N*l*n though. The work that she has in the warehouse is the essence of boring to me but she's very nice and funny in person and cracks jokes about everything. When I pulled one of her stainless steel thingies off the rack I was very proud to know to put my foot underneath it as it slid off and she thanked me. !!!!

It seems an incestuous bunch.

"Wow, I'm exhausted."

Good, time for the boozer. O'Connors at nine?

It turned out to be O'Connor's at 3:00. Working on your feet takes it fucking out of you. I used to think I barely needed two meals a day. Now when noon rolls around I'm about to gnaw my own arm off I'm so hungry. I got some Indian on 6th tonight after loading crap forever. I loaded 30 Warhols today, like a bunch of shit I could have totally destroyed at a moment's notice but I managed to restrain myself. One of the guys from the Foundation totally "fisted" one. But I didn't say anything because I'm new. C*dy N*l*n came in again today, wearing exactly the same clothes as yesterday (so was I) and I noticed the Post under her arm. C*dy N*l*n reads the Post??? But then I saw the Daily News and the Times wrapped underneath it. All she needs is some glassine and bubble wrap and her newspaper articles would be art, every day.

My partner is McRae. He's cool. He DJs at Enid's in WIlliamsburg on Fridays. We photographed a furniture collection today, and we were supposed to ascertain which pieces were "European" and which pieces were "American" because thee collector wants to junk all the American ones!! The guy has prolly 1000 pieces of which 900 are wrapped to the point where you have no idea what it looks like - those you put "Cannot Tell if American" - it's beyond a joke. There was a life-size wooden horse with a suit of armor on it. We note: "Probably Not American."

I haff learnt many new verbs! "Tab it" "Make a seam" "Table it" "Fist it" "Face it" "Corner it" "Push down/pull up"

"Span"

LOL, sounds like a trippy job....it reminds me of how italians have horrible tempers.....at 7, went across the street to open garage of good friend Jon on a crisp sunny summer morning....Jon runs out to meet me and we start to watch the goings on inside, where his mom dad and sister are....his dad was acting very Jolly, moving this big wooden cabinet to the outermost corner of the garage....he lifts it up to slide it into the fitted slot things he fashioned on the ceiling...having a little trouble aiming it right...it's a bit heavy...he knows everyone's watching him and he's just not performing.....this goes on for a minute or two and it's excruciating....he's getting weaker and missing by bigger distances each try....a true Michelle Kwan moment....to everyone's shock, his stilted smile vanishes and he swears *very* loudly, slams, I mean *bodyslams* the cabinet he probably spent all night making by hand onto the garage floor, snapping it into a mill. pieces.....sister runs inside the house, Jon gives me a mortified look and runs into garage......mother, at first embarrassed this happened in front of me then starts acting like daddy is about to beat *me* down for witnessing this....she nervously grins and waves me away....I jet the fuck home and get me some corn pops, aiiiight?

"It turned out to be O'Connor's at 3:00."

Thursday? I made it there on the way home from the Great Lakes-- at THREE FORTY FIVE. And left just before 5, stopping on the walk home to sprawl out with my friend on the sidewalk along Carlton Avenue. Only now (7pm Saturday) do I not feel maimed from hangover.