The other day I told a friend about my new blog and he asked me “What is the theme?” I responded “My life and work… making art everyday since the 90’s.” In the early 90’s people accused me of being too 80’s. Now in the post-aughts I still feel very 90’s. And a sad week for the 90’s it is. RIP Soundgarden’s Chris Cornell. What a senseless and tragic loss. And it’s no surprise that Ativan fucked him up.
When I was at CalArts in the 90’s my schizophrenic boyfriend had a prescription for Ativan. One night after he was released from the psych ward he drove me so nuts that I took one of his pills so I could calm down. I had already been sobbing regularly about the sudden death of my father, and coming home to a crazy dude every night after editing my thesis film and going to class all day was just too much stress for me. So I took one of his Ativans and it made me so fucking wasted- I felt fantastic, warm, fuzzy inside and then I immediately passed out. It was definitely one of the best drugs I’d taken since I was a pill-head in the 80’s. It was so good it scared me.
Self-Portrait Roaming the Halls of Cal Arts in my Bathrobe & Slippers High on Vicodin and/or Documenting the Names of All the Pills I’d Taken for Pain and Pleasure (from the ‘zine Frontal Lobe #3: Giant Mice Eat My Nuts. published in 1999)
A generation mourns.