XIX. October Thus Far

XVIII. Pig Noises

As I rest seductively on this couch, half-watching "Pecker", I feel compelled to update you on some things happening this weekend:



Friday, October 2 marks the second outing of "Black Pig Suite". I'll be performing it along with many of my friends wielding several shiny instruments. This is a fund-raising event, to help yours and his musician friends get to France and the UK in November (more details on this tour soon, my lovelies overseas). Gallery 2023 is where it lands, belly first, chubby hooves tickling you where you're raw from crying. Beautiful Tommy Mose Abbott will host us. Be there also for Tommy Santee Klaws, Red Maids and, fresh off the NYC/Nashville turf, El-Haru Kuroi.

Gallery 2023 is located at 2023 S. Santa Fe, between 15th and Washington, in Downtown L.A. 5 bucks will get you in, and it all begins at 9pm.

"Pecker" credits are rolling...



Saturday, October 3 is SoundWalk in Long Beach. An invasion of sound installations so broad in themes and formats that you would be a silly egg not to check it out for yourself. I am thrilled and honored to be presenting a piece created in collaboration with my good fdend, Joseph Tepperman, he who holds the key to all blessed creations Moobautastic. As I am immediately inclined to reveal the details of our piece, I can only say that it involves one very large breast. Yeeeeyaaah!

It all begins at 5pm, and goes on till 10pm. And it's free! Please visit the SoundWalk website for a map of the event.

"Pecker" DVD menu is judging me from a few feet away...



Sunday, October 4, I'll be joining the Killsonic Women's Choir and Amplified Percussion Ensemble at the Machine Project. Beautiful singing ladies, objects of mass distortion and two contra-basses. Dancing shoes...come off! We debuted this project back in February. This will mark our second performance. The new incarnation is certainly larger and weirder, so I suggest body additives, for her pleasure.

We go on at 8pm SHARP. I do not know if you have to pay to see this, but I don't think you would have to pay much. Machine Project is located at 1200D North Alvarado, in Echo Park.

Come say howdy this weekend! I will most likely be drenched in my own body juice(s), but what's a little wet hug among friends, eh?

Thanks for reading/listening.

Love,

Dorian

P.S.: Oh, and also, I've written all the songs for Rattle Rattle, the official follow-up to BOLKA. Yes. All of them written. All of them witches. Now comes the arranging...

XVII. Second Conquest

I'm in NYC with Killsonic from 9/5 through 9/10. Ah...the workout of a lifetime.

Last time--November, 2008--Killsonic did approximately 15 shows in 5 days. Subways, streets, clubs, Central Park, City Hall, Union Square...running up and down subway stairs to catch up to the next explosive moment. I'm sure I dropped about 10 lbs in the process. All manner of sweat rashes were gained. And the spirit was well-fed. This time around, a wiser, thicker, meaner, nastier Killsonic land their gorgeous fists all over New York. You can keep up with the insanity...on TWITTER! Follow us around on twitter.com/killsonic!

I'm also doing a solo show on Wednesday, 9/9/09, 9PM (no joke) along with the beautiful kids of El-Haru Kuroi and Petrojvic Blasting Company, at Trophy Bar, 351 Broadway, in wondrous, fantastic Brooklyn. I promise to save the juicy meat for this one. :-)

Gotta go pack now. Possibly shower.

If you're in NYC, I hope to see you.

Love,

Dorian

XVI. Chewin' Garganch

I traveled up to San Francisco last week for a performance at Homo A Gogo. Some of the kids played with me (Leah, Corwin, Savvy, Aerie and Frank), and Josie sold some of the Black Pig prints and BOLKA CDs out at the merch table. Lovely peeps, lovely time. Hung out with Miguel as well. Miguel Arias: bearded, with powers. Check out his art here.

On the drive back, the kids were rowdy and full of iPod thirst, while the missus and I kept chill in the front. About 2 hours out of SF, some of us needed to pee, so we stopped at a rest area. I felt shitsy that we didn't get to film some outdoor performances while in SF (bad planning, good weed), so we made the most out of this pee stop, and my low camera battery.

Damn thing kept shutting off! I sneaked into the maintenance area and charged the battery in there for about 10 minutes (FYI, there are no public power outlets ANYWHERE in a rest area...or at least not at this one). It allowed for the capturing of two beautiful performances by two beautiful friends.

Red Maids is the prize child of Michael Corwin:



princessFrank, he of Masterslave and Killsonic glories:



Love,

Dorian

XV. His Royal Highness, The Black Pig (Reprise)

(This photo by Juan Martin del Campo, in addition to the one prior to this one. Yeeeyaaah)

I am happy to announce that the Black Pig is (finally) loose.

The EP Release last Saturday was a totes fun time. Marc Manning opened the evening with elegance and might. God bless that beautiful man. Tommy Mose Abbott was the perfect host/collaborator, and everyone in attendance...just perfect.

The limited-edition Black Pig Suite poster will soon be available on Dorianwood.com.

The Black Pig Suite EP, however, eagerly awaits the click of your mouse!

Note the low, recession-flavored price of $3.99! For the price of 4 Jack in the Box tacos, you can own the Pig. I do make a super humble, super kind request to you, though: if you would like to share it with those you love (or those you love to be a pig with), please take a quick moment to direct them to Dorianwood.com, rather than e-mailing/uploading them the Black Pig. Yes, it's fun to share. People like you more when you share. But rest assured that I would LOVE you LONGTIME if you helped me recuperate the costs of conceiving, incubating and birthing the Black Pig. Thanks. :-)

Soooo many fun, horrific things are coming up. Thank you for listening and not running blindly through the halls.

Love,

Dorian

XIV. His Royal Highness, The Black Pig

I am an excited little ham.

A few months ago, 16 of my friends and I gathered in a studio to record Black Pig Suite: an elegant nightmare in 4 parts. On July 18, the big black thing enters the world, buck-naked and ready for blood. I'm very happy with this Black Pig.

Note: I composed a piece for Killsonic entitled "Black Pig". Two different pigs, both with the same hunger. For blood, again.

The purpose of recording Black Pig Suite: MONEY. Oh dear, how awful. No, really. Money. You see...the four songs that comprise the Suite are children of a large, as-yet unborn mother known as Rattle Rattle. I've been working on the Rattle Rattle songs for a hair over a year now. They total 22 (so far), and they are an angry bunch begging to be coddled by all manner of brass, bellows and instruments of electric persuasion. Massive wrath, with a quiet stare. The lifting of an eyebrow curved over the blindness of the fist. I am blessed to have with me an army of the most gifted musicians in the world (in the WORLD), and God love them for contributing their precious time and energy to Black Pig Suite. God, they're great. And they deserve to be paid.

The economy, the economy, the economy...yes, we're all struggling to stay afloat (some more than others). Is it insane for me to want to lock up 20 musicians in a house for a week and crank out the sweetest, loudest, strangest music this side of Heaven? Perhaps. Is it insane for me to want to make sure they are rightfully compensated? Fuck no. I'm not asking for P. Diddy's riches. I just want my peeps to be able to handle their business after doing what they love.

This is true indie, my friends. I'm reaching out to good, passionate people out there who would be capable of investing in a labor of love. No illicit means. Seriously. My heart and balls out on the table. I guarantee a decent return, and best of all, a work of brutal honesty and epic bliss. And many, many, many shows. :-)

You can preview Black Pig Suite on my MySpace or Facebook. My friends and I are very proud of it. When the Pig arrives next week, we hope you love it as much as we do.

Love,

Dorian

XIII. Mean, Dirty Shoes

Got a new laptop. It's bright and clean. It plays Bjork live songs quite nicely.

Why am I so fucking angry all the time? Everything sucks and stuff! I mean, money...hard to hold onto, man...yeah...so, soooo hard! And bills, gotta be paid...stupid groceries. Ugh. There's fat in the air, MAN! I'm clogging my arteries just by walking out the front door. Dumb shit, dumb.

But no, really. I hold on tight to this opportunity to unleash fucking fury like bad molasses into a brand new garbage disposal. This opportunity, sitting comfy on my face, at 34. I want to stay angry at the hypocrisy of people. Men and women of many genders out there are told they are undeserving of the love they feel. Not allowed to proclaim the truest thing they could ever feel. Not in the way my parents could. Much less, vastly undeserving. Por Dios. We graduated from pre-school many moons ago. Why do we still live in that same pre-school? Bad posture, unnecessary sweating. Make room for the little ones, Pergamino!

At the risk of reducing myself to that beret-headed buffoon with the megaphone in one hand and a blank book in the other, I want to pick a fight. I want to drag people who are down with people (bad down) to the underneath of my car, with velocity and as little remorse as humanly possible. I want to not be nice to mean people and, in turn, become super mean. I want to lose focus and lash out at everyfuckingbody, allthefuckingtime. I want to swallow my life up in a fiendish appetite of pure hatred. For to tell them all I lived passionate and true. To tell them I became Che Guevara with a Mohammad complex. He wasn't a smart one, but he went loud.

Love,

Dorian