Laura Mappin up your way did a show with me back in 2010. We had adjacent booths at the erotic art fair in San Francisco, hit it off, and then decided to do a show in San Diego called Pajama Party. Laura crotched body parts (yes penis's), melting ice sculptures and laser etching. Wonderful stuff, here is her link. https://lauramappin.com/TPD/pages/whywhywhy.php
Ah, Susie. Years ago, I was part of the reading at the old GV store on Valencia. On exhibit all the way around the store were three dozen or so of Jack’s penises. It was a truly magnificent display.
About halfway through the reading, one of the ceiling light fixtures began to drip, at first just an occasional plop onto the floor, but over about five minutes or so, becoming a steady stream.
At first we all tried to ignore it, but when water started falling from the second light fixture, we decided we were in the midst of a significant event. Somebody, maybe Carol, called the fire department, and in a remarkably short time, we had eight big, burly fireman, in full gear, burst into the store.
So here we all were, half a dozen erotic readers, and an audience of perhaps 30, and these bewildered, fireman, surrounded by penises,
Turned out somebody in an apartment upstairs had started to draw a bath and then, probably stoned, forgot they left the water running. A couple of the firemen actually got into the whole scene in the store, and all those crocheted penises, laughing and talking comfortably with us. But they were a definite minority.
I’ve done readings, in all sorts of other places under all sorts of odd circumstances, but this one, I think, tops the list.
My friend Ambar Past, the poet, has brought me penises from all over the world. Well, not quite, I exaggerate (as men so often do about their appendages). I have excellent little salt and pepper shakers in ceramic form and phallic shape from the gift shop in a bus depot in Oaxaca. And heavy marble-like dildo-like things from the so-called Iron Cities of Turkey. Ambar reported wrapping these in silk scarves to preserve them in transit, and when customs agents pounced on them and unwrapped them, they hastily rewrapped and put them back in her luggage. You'll remember what Joan Rivers said about men atttempting handless penile entry into vaginas, right? How do they think they can do that when they can't even hit the bowl when they're trying to pee in the toilet?!
Laura Mappin up your way did a show with me back in 2010. We had adjacent booths at the erotic art fair in San Francisco, hit it off, and then decided to do a show in San Diego called Pajama Party. Laura crotched body parts (yes penis's), melting ice sculptures and laser etching. Wonderful stuff, here is her link. https://lauramappin.com/TPD/pages/whywhywhy.php
Absolutely brilliant! Thank you for introducing Jack's work to me.
Ah, Susie. Years ago, I was part of the reading at the old GV store on Valencia. On exhibit all the way around the store were three dozen or so of Jack’s penises. It was a truly magnificent display.
About halfway through the reading, one of the ceiling light fixtures began to drip, at first just an occasional plop onto the floor, but over about five minutes or so, becoming a steady stream.
At first we all tried to ignore it, but when water started falling from the second light fixture, we decided we were in the midst of a significant event. Somebody, maybe Carol, called the fire department, and in a remarkably short time, we had eight big, burly fireman, in full gear, burst into the store.
So here we all were, half a dozen erotic readers, and an audience of perhaps 30, and these bewildered, fireman, surrounded by penises,
Turned out somebody in an apartment upstairs had started to draw a bath and then, probably stoned, forgot they left the water running. A couple of the firemen actually got into the whole scene in the store, and all those crocheted penises, laughing and talking comfortably with us. But they were a definite minority.
I’ve done readings, in all sorts of other places under all sorts of odd circumstances, but this one, I think, tops the list.
What an opening!
My hero!
My friend Ambar Past, the poet, has brought me penises from all over the world. Well, not quite, I exaggerate (as men so often do about their appendages). I have excellent little salt and pepper shakers in ceramic form and phallic shape from the gift shop in a bus depot in Oaxaca. And heavy marble-like dildo-like things from the so-called Iron Cities of Turkey. Ambar reported wrapping these in silk scarves to preserve them in transit, and when customs agents pounced on them and unwrapped them, they hastily rewrapped and put them back in her luggage. You'll remember what Joan Rivers said about men atttempting handless penile entry into vaginas, right? How do they think they can do that when they can't even hit the bowl when they're trying to pee in the toilet?!
I love friends who bring home thoughtful souvenirs . . .
When they show up with Eurotrash I kinda draw a line.