April 95                                              

I make the elephant man piece out of a plastic skull, candle wax, a dirty mop, a greasy rag and a toilet tile and pipe for his walking stick.  Then I stop drinking and start meditating and practicing Zen Buddhism. I buy a bunch of Deepak Chopra books and read them all. I start practicing yoga and fast for a month and lose 40 pounds. Then Dan Asher calls from Germany and says he's autistic.

The Sculpture Center show opens and I show the elephant man piece and I feel really Buddha and Zen- like and all thin from starving myself on rice and vegetables and not touching a drop of alcohol for 3 months.

There were about a 100 people in the audience waiting for Charlie Finch, the editor of Coagula magazine, to show up so I decide to have a tiny plastic cup of cheap red wine and then another and it really quickly  went to my head, on an empty stomach and all that fasting.

Charlie Finch shows up red-faced swaying and slurring his speech reeking of alcohol and hookers.

He walks over to me and says he's a big fan and he looked all scruffy like and took a seat and started reciting this poem about Bruce Nauman and I started clapping really slowly when everyone else had already stopped.

Then he looked at me and said, "Why don't you stand up and talk about your work!" looking at the Elephant man piece.

I said, "Why don't you stand up and talk about it".

Anyway he was being really obnoxious and started taking nasty digs at Devon Dikou and called her dick-you so I interrupted and blurted out "You fat elephant mans cunt".

He probably also felt the same way from whatever he was drinking and said "Shut the fuck up or ill kick your ass".

I stood up and shouted, "Go ahead and try it you ugly fat fuck!".

He stands up and screams at the top of his lungs, "You motherfucking cocksucking stinky douche bag!" and storms off with his entourage of hookers.

 So much for Zen Buddhism and Deepak Chopra.

That was the most interesting panel discussion I've ever had. This art critic from Artforum also stormed off in disgust and so did almost every other person in the audience. I apologized for the foul language but said he needed to hear it.

That night I made a solemn promise to never ever to drink cheap red wine when I'm fasting or on a panel discussion. My *coprolalia was acting up again, just when I thought I had it under control.

 *Coprolalia is involuntary swearing or the involuntary utterance of obscene words or socially inappropriate and derogatory remarks. Coprolalia comes from the Greek (kopros) meaning "faeces and λαλία (lalia) meaning "babbling, meaningless talk", from lalein, "to talk".