Two Chinese maniacs—one perches as the other searches (for his cigars). They are also known as my father and my fake uncle. They came in beyond clutch, using their arcane ways of dirty, sturdy labor to help install my awning piece (titled John?!). My exhibition, “Recording Artists,” was set to open at Amanita in three days and this was the piece I’d been the most anxious about, for obvious reasons.

Me, saluting fellow silly billy and Infinity Stone of a person, Jacob Hyman. He is a very lovely guy with great facial hair.

Back to the crib—this is usually where I rest my head and watch my soaps. The Murakami pillow, the Bape head pillow, the Baby Milo banana pillow, Kidrobot hoodie, AND the tiny Opening Ceremony tote next to a hole in my wall busting at the seams with presumably live wires?????? Alexa, play “On GP” by Death Grips…

The war rages on. Demons persist. Death drive keeps beckoning to me. My feet have built muscle memory for the trenches. Agnes Questionmark, an absolute sweetheart and sicko of a performer, popped in during install. Me and Jacob were honing in on the lighting situation here. Somewhere between Dogville meets Danish insane asylum meets Doodlebob version of panopticon lighting.

We’d asked Angelo, a maestro of vinyl application, to cut a hole in the black-out film that’d been adhered onto the windows for the shows. This is me having my little Pope.L moment. Here I am, overflowing with joy at the new silly sightline.

From left to right: Dario Lasagni, Jacob, Tommaso, and Linda towards the front. Right after we finished doing install shots, thanks to the mad bang-up skillz of Dario. And the guy is a fuckin’ hoot. Dinner soon approached…

From left to right: LA Vandyke, Jacob Hyman, Tommasso R. Suckert, Melanie Courbet, Linda Spagnolo, Garrett Goldsmith + BFFL’s/forces of nature Devlin Claro (out of frame but will cameo soon) and Laszlo Horvath at Via Della Poce. Huge al dente vibes. When asked if I preferred red or white, I replied by saying, “I’m a…ahem…white…man, myself, thank you very much.” Teehee.

Laszlo and Devlin whispering me the sweetest of nothings.

In need of non-install adjacent vibes, we made our way over to Fiction Bar in Brooklyn to see my friend Emmett Sher absolutely shred up the jazz. Art/jazz pipeline—I was becoming a walking LaGuardia cliche before my very eyes and was loving every minute of it. Beepity boopity shwee doop dop boop bwee… yeah!!

At this point, I was so exhausted from the week that I low-key forgot to take pictures during the day, but fuck it right? Boom, following night: my blood sister Josie Claro Resetar on the left and the inimitable love of my life Daniel Kapp of the team/gang/gallery Kapp Kapp on the right! My go-to is a gin martini with a twist. Buy me one if you see me. I’m also gonna high-key gatekeep where we are… oops!

A wild Blake Oetting and Thomas Blair appear! Louis and Daniel use Embrace!…It’s super-effective! Blake and Thomas use Symposium! It’s a critical-hit!… Amazing fuckin’ gang, right here.

Following night: Death drive was EXTREMELY on. I simply had no choice but to take my sorry ass to Manero’s. Laszlo once again… smfh. Joined by 2 of my favorite menaces Max Kapelowitz and Aria Dean. Max engaging me in a battle of sultry stare-downs. Aria, clearly deep in thought about her next plan of attack on civilization. Truly, a great bunch here <3

“No, this is Patrick!”

Fit check for “Recording Artists” opening at Amanita: CDG frilly things shirt (X-mas gift from Sammy & Daniel Kapp, one of the nicest things anyone’s ever gotten me), my usual bomber jacket, my mom’s old D&G glasses, and some KAWS-esque contacts. I like wearing contacts for my openings because some people have a hard time looking at me, to which I respond with: Hey…eyes up here. Laughs ensue and everybody wins! Also, this pic is definitely getting a hard grid post.

Pizza party after everyone left! The afterparty was at Paul’s Casablanca, where I danced like I never danced before. I thought I lost my camera though, so no pics :(, but I found it later! 360’s and sturdiness were aplenty, this much I can assure you. The way people pull up to Paul’s looks like time-lapse videos of bacteria colonies in petri dishes.

These beauties and havers of my hearts: (left to right) Sebastian Eising, Izzy, and Leo Flores outside Parkside for impromptu after-afters at Parkside. Another love and menace, Quinn Schoen, was inside living his absolute best life. I then slept for 12 hours and watched SVU. I’ll end it on a high note with a shameless, but deserved self-shoutout: “Recording Artists” is up till May 7th at Amanita—make like Pampers and pull up! xoxo.