Fuck It I'm 50

Which is why I can’t right, opps, I mean write, much. It is kind of ironic, but I need to go back down to the gallery and write excerpts  from this, my dear blog, onto the wall of a little gallery that is charming and funky and also sells chocolate and jewelry.

Yep, it’s a solo show with compromises. But then what doesn’t come with compromises? And how often do you get a solo show?

And I could not have done this with out all of you, who kept my toes to the fire this last year, worrying if I didn’t post, (like last night), but knowing me better now and seeing that first of all, you are tough for reading this, and I am tough for writing this.

I think I may have said this already, but I wrote an amazing amount over the last almost twelve months. And while it has been hell to read for this limited framing of this project, I am so fucking glad I did it. Who would  I be if I hadn’t done it? Less self-assured and knowing I think.

And yet there are certain things I have not shared fully here, either from a need to protect the other people involved in the story, insight or experience, or from my own unwillingness to be skinned before you, which might be my desire.

If it is I better hurry up, this is really done on August 10^th…

I want these final days to be so frank and easy to read that you can see through my skin to the fat layer below, glimpsing muscle and tendon.

But just like other peoples stories that I protect, I protect my own because I am still scared to be fully revealing. If I could I would force, not just usher, the change I have been blabbing about for close to the last year.

But I have to figure out food, Laurie and Lefty who are helping me at the Gallery tonight, and get going.

BTW-Laurie and Ron hung the photos in the “I my clever, I am slick” side of the gallery last night while I continue to struggle with the not so slick , reveling and no chance of monetary compensation side of the gallery. Such is my nature. And of course this perhaps abject, and certainly riskier side has been driving my anxiety to all time peaks.

And for you, my random or loyal reader, I am finally officially handing in my get out of jail free car. I cannot blog until the 30^th, the day after the catwalk of this, this damn, beautiful, enchanting albatross goes up as excerpts on the wall of this little gallery.

So until then, be well, and come to the opening, info pasted below just in case you haven’t gotten it yet.

And Ghost Writer has just said that she may post a few updates until then…

………………….

Me and My iPhone, a collection of photographs and a text image installation by Lise Swenson

July 22^nd-September 17^th, 2010

323 Gallery

323 Potrero Ave. SF CA 94103

Open Wednesday-Friday 3-7

By Appointment, 415-626-4333, 323gallery@att.net

Opening Reception

Thursday, July 29^th 6-9pm

Personal Prose Night

Swenson, along with readings from other personal prose writers, will read excerpts from her one-year of writing.

Wednesday, August 25^th, 7:30-9:30pm, donation at the door and no host bar.

Swenson Film Retrospective

Friday, September 10^th, 8-10pm, donation at the door and no host bar.

Me and my iPhone is the culmination of Lise Swenson’s yearlong reflection on what it is to be 50.