John Sex n Wendy Wild

Enter at Your Own Risk, Tompkin Square Park 1980.

When I feel blue, you know what i do? I go back, way back to the time of the troglodytes, to the East Village in NYC, the downtown art scene of the 80's. It was the Loesaida that Clayton Patterson and others encapsulated with raw anthropological truth. It was heaven and hell rolled up in one forgotten neighborhood. It was where a kid from the mid-west to go and shed their her middle-class inhibitions.



Angels with Dirty Faces.

That is where i fell in love with people with names like John Sex, Katty K, Jeanne Caffeine, Van Chrome Wendy Wild, Snooky Tate and a host of other pseudo-names that singlehandedly formed the art and music scene that is today looked upon as a gestative magic and recognized by the elite as a unique phenomena of creativity.



Original to the Bone.

Wendy was Wild in every way. The mane says it all. Rest in peace dear free spirit child of passion and fun.





Wendy in Wonderland

The young and the restless could rent a hole in the wall for 150 bucks a month. There were venues like club 57, CBGB's, Irving plaza, the Ritz, Danceteria, Pyramid, Mudd Club, Area and other joints where crowds of youth would gather to do what young people do so well. You know what I'm talking about.




Smile Your on Crazy Camera.

Tseng Kwong Chi photographed self and friends.



How High Can You Go...

John was a quiet kid by day, a cobra-wilding wild thing by night. Rest in peace my dear golden mohawk angel.




Day Glow and Night Flow.

Kenny Scharf in Brunswik today.

My only wish is that today there may be a place like the East Village of the 80's for young creative people from across the nation to converge and live life to the max, but where is it?


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Time of the Signs

Code Green in the Face.

We all understand color coding of our prescribed temperament. Back in the hay-days of homeland insecurity, it was obvious to some that all was going south and no amount of duct tape would mend our ailing psyche. Today the signs continue to accumulate in the concretescape of the swamp.



Laying Down the Crude.

Why do we continue to consume barrels of oil like there is no tomorrow?
Why is the Julia Tuttle Causeway being re-surfaced? Because it is business as usual for DOT and Dade builders/destroyers.



Smoke gets in your Eyeballs.

No that's not a tropical thunderhead approaching.

The Burke Mansion burns in the early summer swelter. In the posh enclaves of Miami Beach this ridiculous residence was a symbol of 70' excess and frivolous fantasy that was synonymous with South Florida lifestyle. Luxury living was our number one industry. But these are changing times and what was once the admiration of the wanabe's has become the tinderbox for a new swampy order.



First Responders Ponder.

When is snitching actually a good thing? Best before the fact, but i will wager for every high profile insurance scam there are score of others that get no ink. Dade is littered with 'for sale', 'for rent, 'foreclosures', 'short-sales', upside-down sales', yard sales' and other signs of the times that spell hell for millions falling through the safety nets of society. Expletives such as "fucked-up" are on everyones lips.



We Buy Ugly Info.

Who would not parley insider information into cold cash in the culture of snitchers.
The Burke Mansion was a really cool place, a hybrid of design with Vincent Price, Hugh Hefner, Santa's Enchanted Forest, Vizcaya and Epcot Disney obvious influence. My kid was friends with the caretakers kid who would have pool parties on occasion. The place was really dungeons n dragons.


Miami Socio, the Path to Vice.

If you are old enough to recognize the name, Austin Burke, then you probably have some really interesting outfits in your closet that might off-set the current slow-down in your revenue stream. I predict that 1970's fashion will rear it's hilarious head among the trendy soon.




Vote for Me, I'll Set You Free.

And speaking of signs, what's your WTF take on this jewel of an image?

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Smurf Universe

Smurfy Summer Daze.

With the dog days of summer comes opportunity. This is a great time to visit people that are most deserving of our affection and encouragement. So let's do our due diligence.
Under the highway with George Sanchez Calderon. Maybe the spankiest studio in the land of Oz south of Wynwood. I wonder if we are related?




The Place with No Front Door.

We've all seen buildings with no window and buildings for cars (more on that later) so you might say to yourself, " oh wow!" when approaching this building with no obvious entry. Well just like alice in wonderland one must step through the looking glass to enter into a world of street cred and prestige in the swamp.




Smurf Central.

Back in 1984 I never imagined S M U R F would be in the encyclopedia. History shows these funky blue belgian bunnies were embraced by us the proto-hip-hop culture. Today you will find our prodigy chilling at Our House West Of Wynwood. Weird that the best thing in Wynwood is not actually there.



Oh Yeah!

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Bravo New World?

Voluntary Humiliation Queue

Scores of Miami artist peppered with other dreamers from across this "liberal arts" nation gathered in the sweltering heat of the swamp to audition for the next reality teevee show. Solicited by the otherwise respectable Bravo with cohort Jessica from sex in the city, young, old and freaky lined up to have a shot at soothsayer andy's fifteen minute promise.



Breakfast Special, Artlurker and Captain Justice.

The unholy affair was a particularly welcome spectacle for certain natives steeped in the art world. If you put aside the profound repercussions of how mass culture marketeers vie in desperation for the packaging and delivery of relative reality to soccer moms, nascar dads and their culture starved offspring, then it is easy to have a beer for breakfast now an then. The day of the cattle call was tantamount to the tropical storm warnings we are accustomed to in the swamp.



Gotta be In It to Win It.

I imagine plenty of the callused rejection that artist are accustomed to was delivered.
By 2pm the deciders had decided on about a dozen. They are presumably the predetermined local heavies, a couple of cute chicks, several ethnics types, freak-showies, somebody's gay cousin and the usual plants. The reality felt dreadfully scripted.
Which begs the question, with auditions in NY, LA, Chicago and Miami, is there any marketing or anthropological value to the archive of artists that Bravo has amassed? Are the bloody contracts void for those rejected? Will it all end up in a shredder?




I fell in love with this old fart, but she was betrothed.

Talent is the art of persuasion, it is having rhetorical monkeys fly out of your arsenal at that very special moment.




The casting was a civil affair, everyone's behavior was exemplary, except for BruceHighQuality. in their rented sexcalade. Gotta love the relevant irreverent!

If I had to write a name for Bravo's Untitled Art Project it might be "reality bites back" or "sex in the museum".

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microcosm of dade county

Surfside Social Club Closed.

The people have spoken... one third of the registered voters turned out to decide if it would be smart to borrow ten million dollars to build a new community center and the result was predictable.
489 yay to 636 nay. These days, people are understandably skittish about debt, duh.



Adorning the Town hall Walls.

The thing is, for it's short history, Surfsiders have always had a place to congregate... besides the shul or the shore. But not no more.



Rubble in the Swamp.

Here's the kicker: the way the county law goes, your portion of the debt is calculated on your property tax. Meaning grandma that has been here forever pays a fraction of the debt and flipper next door who bought at the height of the bubble pays lions share. Fair enough. It is no wonder that we will not be having a fancy new place to chill for the foreseeable future.

No matter, the ocean is still there and it is FREE.

Like other towns in Metro Dade, Surfside is not aberrant, it is a microcosm of the bigger swamp that is South Florida.

I can think of nothing less swampy.

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Surfside Yes & No

You Gotta Destroy to Rebuild.

Residents of the lazy seaside Town of Surfside, FL will vote today on whether or not to borrow millions to build a new community center.



Most readers could not care less but this is the big question and a stinging subject for many Surfsiders... particularly these folks.

All politics is local.

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Swampy V.2.0

prettier than pea soup.

Well, if you still have not figured out what exactly is swampy, here is another clue.



Chunnel of Love

Your are traveling furious through a winding tunnel of candy aura... like a donut shaped mobius strip, you arrive at a primal place in your being. Like the cream mfilling in a donut you ask, "how did i get here......"



After the Show.

Anyways, Claudia Guerreiro is a big fan of Kenny Scharf and the Vomitdingleberry Movement Troup, thereby she thoroughly gets what is swampy.



The Next Show.

If you would like further clues, make this a 'don't miss' saturday night at design district art walk.




Get Out, Enjoy the Moon.

Most coincidentally, Claudia is BFF with the benevolent and immaculate Mrs. Swampting, so diva's man is obliged to be in attendance.


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Swampspace Get's Lucky

Lucky Rabbit Stew

If your moon cycle revolves around Second Saturday's Gallery Walk in the swamp, then be sure to visit the SWAMPSPACE GALLERY located in the posh Design District near the Wynwood Arts Neighborhood.

Last month's inaugural show at SWAMPSPACE was the joyous birth pains of a new gallery. "what is swampy" was a resounding flub, so without reservations here is the announcement for our next show.

Swampspace is please to present the very seductive Sobe Girl Claudia Guerreiro.




THE LUCKY ONES

paintings by Claudia Guerreiro

A search for woman painters reveals a wealth of enlightenment for both sexes. We all benefit when women shape an art-world of their own. It's obvious to find names like, Louise Bourgeois and Louise Nevelson; two masters of illusion with craft. Then we gaze at Georgia O'Keeffe and Tamara de Lempicka; two masters of seduction with style. And who doesn't get the ripe obsessions of Helen Frankenthaler and Frida Kahlo; two masters of their unknown desires so well delivered in the poetry of Anais Nin.

But with no explanation it is Egon Scheile and Barbara Kruger that come to mind when enjoying the paintings of young Claudia. Naturally, your personal moment with Guerreiro's paintings may be very different.



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july VI MDCCLXXVI

How America Works.

How does one begin to get inside the head of the lady in the harbor, our very own statue of bigotry?



Whose Got Your Back, Barack?

Is that a junior navy seal green beret training in the background while Oby and grampy enjoyed a frolic in Hawaii?



Super Bro to the Rescue!

Have a nice fourth of july 2009 and go ahead, blow some shit up!




Just don't point it in 'I'm a dinner jacket's direction.

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Beam Me Down

kennyscharf.com

Who is hotter and more out of this world than my very own down to earth Ann Magnuson?



Perfectly Puritanical Granola Entertainment. When we met, she was an out of work waitress doing television.



Wait a second that's somebody's daughter... Raven at the Pyramid Club East Village photo Tseng Kwong Chi 1985.




She ain't no bore... she's the Girl Next Door!


If you marry, find a gal that walks fast, has good teeth and digs art.

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Funnybones for Franken

What were you doing in 1975?

Convoluted Coleman may have been cool back in high-school but he grew up to be a just another republican dweeb a boneheaded hipo-crat. His contention of the vote count for senate seat in Minnesota dragged out for eight flippin months till the state supremes closed the case on his face. theres a little hunting shack in the boundary waters for you to commiserate at, seeya norm.



Mr. 60 vote Majority goes to washington.

Hooray for Al Franken! He has always been a great american and will serve the people well in disgusting DC. He is the best that the mid-west has to offer, and damn it he's good enough. He was great in SNL and perfect fo Air-America. Nothing will spoil him. Funny, smart and uhh... a looker?



Quit Kidding n Start Campaignin'!

Now that the ground is paved for everyman to have political ass-pirations, Swampstyle endorses our very own Dave Barry for Florida Governor. He will kick chucky Crist's fake tan from Kayo Weso to Itchetucnee.



F*shin' B*tch Channels Andrew Dice Clay, Rodney Dangerfield, Henny Youngman, and just about every great sewer-mouth that ever slimed the stage.

And while we are at it... swampstyle also endorses Lisa Lampanelli for what ever ails you.
If humor is the best medicine, this loose-liped lady is the big pharma of comedy. Fox loves her as repugs are the sickest of all minds. This buxom broad ain't afraid a nothin'!



Like okay, where have you been all my life?

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