Wednesday, April 29, 2009

Saturday, April 25, 2009

Thursday, April 23, 2009


Wednesday, April 22, 2009

two from Therese McPherson on Vimeo.

Sexual Fantasy from Therese McPherson on Vimeo.

stack from Therese McPherson on Vimeo.


I wake up dreaming. I work in my sleep. The family was rich and depressed. At the top of a skyscraper, glass revolving doors replaced the windows. The son, or brother, was a blur through the glass door. Screaming and cursing the whole family. He walked out the door and fell. His suicide was narrated. "As he reaches speeds of 200mph his flesh begins to catch aflame. Burning in the air he feels a sense of hope. The hope is around his back, a small asian girl functioning as a parachute. The suicide is hopeful."
A rescue team has prepared a net for him to fall safely into. On the ground, his flesh is no longer burnt and he is again nothing more than an angst driven teen. Father tells him that he is going up for adoption. "fuck off"
I told dad that he was a little old for adoption, maybe military school would suit him best.
Dad walks with me alone. We are going somewhere. We pass through hallways of young boys shooting digital guns at projectors. The projectors display words like confidence, love, loyalty, family, honesty. They are all dressed in uniform.
We walk with out paying attention to anyone. I begin to feel like we are doing something wrong. He opens a door at the end of the hallway and we walk into a movie theatre.
He is a she, and she tells me that it is important to her that I spend time with her. She talks about how important it is that i sneak into the movies with her, she talks loud enough that a employee hears her and asks for a ticket. I walk in the theater and look back, waiting for her to get in. A woman in the line suggests that she touches and pleases the employee, it is the trick to getting in for free. So she sits next to an employee, “ I would hold your hand, but I have to watch this movie”
He seemed surprised and aroused. He smiled awkwardly and let her by. I left in a car with the black man. He drove a 4 door Buick. We stopped in a fast food parking lot. We had large sheets of heavy white paper. He drew a picture of Jesus and placed it against a wall. I didn’t want to show mine so I left it face down on the passenger side floor. The car wouldn’t start. He slammed his foot to the floor. The energy pushed the gages all the way over the red and the car sounded as if it were going to explode. He did it several times. I put on my seat belt. I was afraid that the engine would blow up and I would catch on fire.
I was at work. The printmaking labs were full of workers. I drew on my plate. Only circles and lines. When I came back, a couple was standing over it. Talking about how they could see each circle representing something different. Then they began to mark up my plate and place their images onto mine. “excuse me, can you not do that?” \
They seemed so offended when I asked them to stop, but they id stop and walked away. I looked into the plate and started to see objects of utility. I walked into an adjacent room and felt drunk. Like I had just woken up from a deep sleep. I asked the couple if they knew what it felt like to be drunk. The girl told me to stop being so selfish, of course she knew what it was like to be drunk.

Wednesday, April 15, 2009