Daniel Adler, Chris D’Acunto, and Andrew Birk

daniel adlerIt’s hard being a man. Right now, I’m suffering for fashion by wearing jeans and argyle socks and the new shoes my coworker gave to me this morning, Grenson grey suede shoes that retail for 170 pounds, and this cafe is just as hot as my kitchen was while we made cod curry, which was much more delicious than it sounds, in retrospect. I am sweating and my coffee is hot. I should’ve ordered it iced.

I’m doing this rockabilly thing because I love that era and that genre. But dammit it’s hot. Girls don’t know what it’s like, since they weigh less and don’t have as much body hair and aren’t as gross.

Oh, tonight is Chris D’Acunto‘s art show at Pine Box! He showed up at my house last night and took the painting that hung in my room, but it is his and I can’t hate. His art is way better than the other stuff that’s hung in that bar over the past year. His paintings are big and colorful and have an energy and vibrancy that is characteristic.

Speaking of avant garde art, R.I.P. by Andrew Birk and Sol Suh, down at 33 Canal, is a great show. Mr. Birk is doing big things with immediacy and decontextualization and vaginas, which, you know, are all totally up my alley. He told me he’s dissatisfied though, and is leaving for Mexico City in a few weeks to go deeper down the rabbit hole.

Kay, I got my own rabbit hole to explore now.

By Daniel Ryan Adler

Daniel Adler writes fiction and nonfiction and is finishing his MFA at University of South Carolina.

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