NEXT: Piles – New Paintings by Casey Hallas
At the Gem Center for the Arts (TBD)
I scored a little plot of land in Washington State. Here I am praying to the landowner to accept my offer. It’s a small lot in an agricultural town. I have chickens and goats for neighbors and the people are poor. That is perfect for me, to blend in as a hermit. The parcel has about 30 mature fruit trees on it, the scrolling plums are my future subject and the shadows of the seasons. There is a barn nearby with artist studios for rent. I want to take care of the trees and use the fruit to make jam.
A Ken Kesey kind of thing – Never – this cart carries my art supplies and can hold 2 of my projection screens. Some Catholics helped me build it, though – I wonder if they followed the 10 Commandments, it was SO expensive! The voile screen on the right swings out to 90 degrees. I’ll get this out into the wilderness with some projectors, a sound system and throw down post-modern like I do.
Now I’ve heard there was a secret chord that David played and it pleased the Lord – but you don’t really care for music, do you? In college I got assaulted and almost hazed out of existence. You know when that guy you love and think is your best friend kicks you in the fucking face? Cease and desist my first person historical narrative – I GRADUATED. But because of my identity – it doesn’t matter to my college or my friends that I lost 25 years of my life to mental illness, the people I loved the most, and it took a literal miracle to save my life. You know, that fear of intimacy and “brain pain” I talk about – that knife in my mind that never goes away? How I wasn’t quite the same, remember? It’s from something real. Grandstanding on social media is what it is for you people. Teaching people a lesson. Short, quick fixes. What does it take for people to care about what happens to someone they love? You gotta be a certain thing? You gotta say the perfect words? Did I ever lie to you? So if I do end up dead, you can reminisce about how much you loved me, instead of actually doing something about it while I’m alive. ‘Cause I’m not skinny enough? Please don’t let the people who killed me speak at my funeral. I KNOW you’d do something if you thought I was important enough – or if you heard other people loved me through the grape vine. Then you’d call. Being good, and generous – albeit, difficult, isn’t good enough. Or being a genius. I lost my career and had to sell my house – this is the last thing I made living there. This is my music and part of the reason I survived. I PRAYED to be able to do this and it took 25 years – and then the people I cared about most rejected me – including my best friend and my own sister when I asked to come back home. I’m going to go live in the woods. I needed help. I needed understanding. Casey Hallas, guitar & vocals. Hallelujah. I’m a ghost – see you in hell.