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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