Thursday, July 9, 2015

SPECIAL ANNOUNCEMENT!!!
HANDS ACROSS THE WATERS!!!













After years of toil, several continents, different cities and many burgers, Adrian Garcia Gomez and C.O. Moed are happy to announce their joint collaboration video, FUCKING HIM (1:46).

The piece asks the simplest of questions:
  • What is fucking?
  • What is love?
  • What's the difference?
  • When do you know?

Screenings will be posted at a later date.

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Adrian Garcia Gomez is an interdisciplinary artist working in film/video, photography and illustration. His artwork, which is largely autobiographical, explores the complexities of race, immigration, gender, spirituality and sexuality. His short experimental films, photographs and drawings have exhibited around the world. He currently lives and works in Tel Aviv. (superadriancito.com)













C.O. Moed chronicles the heart and soul of a disappearing family and a city in the throws of extinction and evolution on IT WAS HER NEW YORK. A recipient of the Elizabeth George Grant for fiction and a Rockefeller Media Arts nominee, her short stories and dramatic works have been published in several anthologies and literary reviews. (myprivateconey.com and myprivateconey.blogspot.com)

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The street was once a place where working people lived and businesses made things and bars served anyone who needed a drink and had a couple of bucks.

Someone took an eraser and wiped it clean.  Put life into the nooks and crannies that looked like a Walt Disney movie only with a ton of cigarettes, cell phones and almost no smiling.

The clothing store kept the old neon liquor sign to display the grit it had purchased for clothes only a few could afford.   In a city where church ladies and baseball fans were the only ones who wore hats, millinery stores seemed to be flourishing.  And cafes with exclusive gardens that had gatekeepers were packed with sockless loafers and dresses so short ... I still don't understand how they sit down and they sure as hell can't stand in those heels for more than five minutes.

But turning corners and choosing avenues trying to impress no one, all I had to do was look up and remember what it was like to float on a greater idea towards a richer world.

And again, I missed my mom and all the night walks we took on our way home from neighborhoods where working people lived and bars had cheap drinks for just a couple of bucks.

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