Monday, October 03, 2005

The Chelsea report

I just threw a Public Scene at a reception in Chelsea. I did not know I had it in me. It was just like a movie, and in fact, they were shooting a movie right down the street that didn't look a tenth as interesting as the one that I was involved in.

Grigorio seems to have a knack for driving me Right Out Of My Tree. Moreover, he also has a knack for crossing my path repeatedly.

The long story is that I designed this stupid poster for this stupid benefit happening on Friday, which is certain to be a total failure because all the people involved are incompetent, disorganized and narcissistic. Oh, wait, no.

So I start again. I designed a postcard, weeks ago. I impressed upon the group in general, and Grigorio in particular, the facts about Printers and Turn Around Time and DEADLINES. These facts were all roundly ignored.

Two weeks ago, I designed a Fancy Poster, at Grigorio's request. Of course, all the Facts that he gave me were Wrong, so the Fancy Poster was Useless.

A week and a half ago I showed up at the Empire Diner with the Fancy Poster on my laptop, and upon learning that it was Useless, I re-designed a Postcard, which we went to Kinko's to print, right that minute.

An hour and a half later, at 12:30 AM, after Kinko's had quoted impossible prices and then roundly ignored us, I stormed out of Kinko's and emailed Grigorio the file, so that he could get it printed on his own time and not my SLEEP time.

Four days later I receive an email, "the file won't open. Your computer has a virus." (Which it doesn't. At least I'm pretty sure it doesn't.) Anyway all the information had changed, and they wanted another Fancy Poster, with elaborate and totally different information on it.

So I re-designed another postcard and ANOTHER poster, with extensive fiddly detailed elaborate information on both of them that changed every ten minutes. Meanwhile, there is this Archimedes character lurking in the background, throwing frequent narcissistic tantrums, making impossible, unreasonable, stupid demands, failing to understand the English language and generally gumming things up.

Finally, after more deadlines have come and gone, more harassment and changes and tantrums have transpired, I go to Kinko's on Saturday morning, drop off the files and place an order, for postcards and posters, fewer than originally required because the prices are ASTRONOMICAL, I mean ludicrously so. Which did not have to be the case if the file had been, say, uploaded to Modern Postcard a week and a half ago, when I first FINISHED THE DAMN THING AND SAID "NOW WE SHOULD UPLOAD TO MODERN POSTCARD." But whatever.

At eleven PM on Saturday night, I come home to a message from Kinko's. "All the files are corrupted and we can't open them. Please re-send."

Meanwhile Grigorio calls me at 11:20 PM and says, "Are you coming to the work party tomorrow evening?

I upload the files. Kinko's does not call me back. I call them at 9 AM. They haven't looked at the files. They look at them and put it on "priority." They don't call. I call them at 10 PM. They haven't started the job yet. They want me to email them another PDF file.

I cancel the postcard order and change it to 500 first-page flyers and 200 second-page flyers. This saves a huge amount of money, which would be wasted on postcards this close to the event, anyway, and streamlines the process. I meet Irving at Kinko's this morning, he pays, takes the flyers, I am FREE.

Grigorio calls me, freaking out. I tell him the flyers are done and Irving has them. He wants to know, "Why no postcards? Surely another day?" I say NO. I am done with this job. I have other things to do. Goodbye.

This evening, at the Square Foot Show reception in Chelsea (my pieces didn't sell) I run into Grigorio, who is posting flyers all around Chelsea with the Square Foot Show as the epicenter. He has about twelve nit-picky things he's found wrong with the flyers, and wants me to alter the master and get it printed again.


First I try to reason with him. Then I start issuing ultimatums. Then I storm off. He follows me. I throw a screaming raging tantrum in the middle of the reception.

The totally bizarre thing about this is that once I really get going, he actually seems to start listening to me. The more I let fly with statements like "I don't give a shit about this stupid poster, do you see anybody reading the fine print?!! NOBODY gives a shit, I am not getting paid for this, I don't need narcissists like Archimedes in my life, if he has been doing publicity for 20 years why is he incompetent and broke?" the more he stands there with a serious expression on his face and seems to take in the sense of my words. Which he DOES NOT DO when I am explaining things in a civilized, measured, sensible, friendly tone of voice.

I think Grigorio's mother must be a real horror.

Regardless, it was an exhausting and depressing evening. All the Bad Artists in the show were clustering round me, complaining that nobody bid on their piece and nobody came to their open studio and they're upset, nobody bid on my pieces and the gallery was too busy ringing up the sold pieces to give back the unsold ones so I have to come back tomorrow, rent was due three days ago and I haven't paid it, I have a listless and halfhearted crush on a guy who is in a highly committed relationship and too short for me anyway, and there is this Fool on my tail hassling me about postcards. Really. Grigorio is not just *A* fool, he is the ARCHETYPE of The Fool, from the Tarot deck. I suppose this is a distinction of sorts.

And this evening I come home and check my email, and there is a Kodak Photo Album of photos from the 20th high-school reunion that I just missed, and from the looks of it I might actually have had a good time if I had gone. Oh Well.

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