THE GRAND MIDWAY HOTEL JOURNALS
IN THE YEAR OF OUR LORD 2007

_______________________________________________
Blair Murphy writes:

"Revel in your time!" -Bladerunner

I made hotel calendars using Adam Blai's light paintings of various people around the hotel. This one above is of painter Andrew Turman. I think it is my favorite. I imagine it being, if there was one photo that would end up representing us, this one might be it. Anyway, I sent out about 300 of the calendars into our circles.

We started the year watching the movie The Life Aquatic over and over.

Ancient quote I had engraved into a plaque and put on the hotel front door:

Sostratus of Cnidus
dedicates this lighthouse of Alexandria
to the 'Savior Gods'
on behalf of navigators
_______________________________________________

Renee Angle writes:

Hello everyone! My name is Renee Angle. I'm an aspiring writer/actor/painter/musician from Johnstown and a student at Pitt Johnstown. I've been living in the hotel for about three months now and I have absolutely fallen in love with the building. The first time I visited it back in February I immediately felt drawn to it and knew instinctively that I would end up living here. I just didn't know how soon!

I feel a certain kind of creative energy here. Must be the spirits of numerous artists. I've met lots of interesting people and finally feel like I belong somewhere. I hope to meet a lot more people over the summer. Just thought I'd say hello and say a little bit about myself.

___________________________________________________

Blair Murphy writes:

Adam and I ran into Chris Yambar (Mr. Beat cartoonist) and he asked if he could move into the hotel for three weeks later this summer to work on a new project, "...Already asked the wife."

So he may be joining us!



Also, musician Marc Alan just arrived here to the hotel to drop off Steve Sane. In the three days he's been here Marc started talking about some profound inner wake-up he was experiencing. Just now I was walking up the steps to the third floor and heard a guitar playing.

It was Marc alone in Steve's new room, Room #25, a silhouette, singing softly. He'd begun to flesh out a new song, calling it Awaken. I sat there and watched him play a while. He kept playing the chords over and over, shifting the words as it manifested from the air and from his heart. Soft voice, head bobbing, foot tapping. I could barely hear his words but they sounded something like, "...The time for sleeping, long past keeping, time to awaken..." Something about coming out of a comfortable dream to embrace life again with a new gusto.

When I say, as I do often, that this building is like a religious experience at times, times like this, it is in moments like this that the building really delivers. All these artists making offerings to the world and sharing their creation process as it unfolds, naked as that can be. I'm honored to watch him build his new song. The more it manifests, the more it enriches, the more it enriches him. And then the song and Marc begin to play louder, bolder, and stronger, more confident. These are those cathedral hours.

I love how art can make the artist stronger, that the creation process can come through real pain and eventually stamp down as a foundation into new life. By the time I left the room Marc was rocking out, the man reborn, a song training loud through the afternoon. He says, "Music to me is like a purging of the soul. Music, it can be like in your stomach, and you just have to get it out."

He's rushing back to New Orleans in the morning with just enough time to get this new recording done before he takes off for the big tour. Marc is leaving after the weekend to tour with the band Type O Negative. They will be playing in Switzerland, Germany, Poland, Holland, England, Spain, Croatia, Serbia, Greece, and more. It should be pretty exciting. He'll be sound mixing for audiences sometimes of 70,000.

____________________________________________________

Steven Sane writes:

My name is Steven Sane from New Orleans, and I recently moved into The Grand Midway over a week ago. I visited this place last year during the Kerouac Fest when I was performing with Damien Youth. It was a blast from the little I can remember. I recieved an email from Blair a month ago when he got word I wanted to move to Pittsburgh which ive been planning for a couple of years now. I loved the idea but due to the spooky rumors of this place i was a little nervous. I didnt know why I was so nervous until last night. There was some drama here with my roomates in which I felt the need to intervene. The drama calmed down and I walked downstairs to find Dylan to talk to him. As i reached the bottom stair case I waked passed the radiator I was grabbed by a small hand which came from the radiator. I tried to run but I was paralyzed for ten seconds before i realized what happened. I was touched by a ghost, and god did it suck. I ran to the third floor to find Blair and Renee. They saw me in shock but I couldnt get the words out. Then Blair asked me what happened, and in tears i said "I was grabbed downstairs goddammit....why did this happen!" Blair went downstairs to see what i was talking about. He came back up and said there's definately something down there. I really didnt believe in any of this until now. This will definately be an adventure that words will not describe. Its always 4 a.m. in Winber.



____________________________________________________

Rene Angle writes:

I had no idea what was going on when I heard Steve screaming obscenities as he ran up the stairs. He burst into my room clutching his chest and gasping out swear words, his face contorted and paler than I've ever seen anyone's. It took him about two minutes before he could even speak. He was crying and stumbling, I thought he was having a heart attack! Finally he sputtered out that he'd felt a hand grab him as he walked past the radiator. There was no doubting the validity of his experience - the guy was terrified. He refused to go downstairs again without Blair or I with him that night. Blair went down to check things out and came back reporting that his hair was standing on end in the first floor hallway. It was crazy. There was definitely something stirred up down there. We'd just had a bunch of people over and there'd been some arguing and minor drama. The combination must have awakened whatever it was. All I can say is, WOW. What a crazy night.

____________________________________________________

Sarah Ireland writes:

This one is for all of you...

"I wanted to let everyone know how important this group of people have become in my life. Though I may not be in Windber nearly as often as I want to be, that doesn't make it's effect on me any less vital to my life. The friendships I have are very real to me and I am lucky and honored to be a part of them, even if some of us don't see each other for a year.

The experiences I have had have not only made me into a better person, it has changed my outlook on the world around me. Thank you for letting me become involved in your projects, be it modeling for a sculpture or a photograph, or even just playing around with a crazy little story-line. Thank you for the creative criticism and wanting to know mine. The grand parties, the intimate dinners, the late late movie nights. Thank you for the conversations sometimes held until the wee hours of the morning, and especially for the endless hours spent enjoying your work.

Each one of you have effected me and I am grateful for the chance to have met all of you."
___________________________________________________

Steven Sane writes:

Im sure everyone knows that we have a busy 2 weeks here at the hotel. People are starting to move in as of today, and its gonna be wild!

-Steven

PS: Marc Alan wrote everyone a letter from the road:

"Funny how Wake Up rhymes with Break Up! Hey, it's Marc Alan... the headline of this post reveals actually what has been driving me so crazy the last few days, weeks, hours.... breaking up with someone I'm completely in love with. I've never had the experience you always hear about--if you love someone, let them go... but that's what I have to do. In the aftermath of dealing with the practicalities (something I've never been particularly good at), I have actually been going through an Inner Wake Up, and yes, some of the darkness did finally lift when I was at the hotel in Winbder...thank you so much Steve, Blair, and Renee (plus india, Japan, and Egypt), plus assorted ghosts and goblins, all of whom let me cry on their shoulder, and helped steer me through some sheer darkness. It's crazy how dark the world can be on the brightest of sunny days. Of course, when you're in the hotel, for some reason, it always feels a little like 4 in the morning."

"It was good helping Steve move up there. I was glad to be able to do that. Now I'm back in Hammond, back to dealing with IT, but I'm better off than i was before. I can at least look forward to Europe with a clearer mind, that I really need for the task at hand. This gig is a major step in my career, and I need to have it together. This is the next step in landing what will be some bigger tours in the fall, next is a dual headline tour with Type O Negative, and Danzig, both of whom want me to mix front of house. In some ways, it is so far removed from playing music that it is almost surreal at times, but then I have to admit I get a great kick out of it. Just feeling the power of the music literally surrounded by that many people is pretty awsome."

"Speaking of music, though, and Blair this is for you especially, you will be happy to note that I did set down to record the music I began creating on Steve's acoustic guitar at the hotel. I got together with a recording guy yesterday and today to lay basic tracks down for Awaken, plus another song that came about almost simultaneously. Awaken is a moody song that will feature some etheral, exotic acoustics along with some sexy, heavy drums. The second is a darker heavier song I call The Knife, that somehow reminds me of the band Disturbed, with some Alice in Chains thrown in. I don't know where recording it all will get me, but just to be creating music again is the kind of therapy money can't buy. Lord knows I need a lot of therapy."

"I've been thinking of putting in some time at the hotel to actually record some music. Blair if you're reading this, Im gonna call about this soon. I read the post from the guy who spent the night in the basement and something about it made me want to give it a go. An all night recording session down there might be fabulous! Anyone want to join me? Well sitting here at this computer safe and sound, it seems like a cool idea. We'll have to see once I get there. I will write you guys from the road and keep you updated. I will sure miss you in June. Hope everyone enjoys the parties. Hope we can pick it up in July when I get back. Love you guys.... M"
 
____________________________________________________

Steven Sane writes:

How fast things change...

It was only 4 short months ago I was lost in a world of my own chaos. Because of that, a decision had to be made. I had a rant with my sister one night at her house in LA about my frame of mind and ways I should change it. She suggested a small change in my environment would help tremendously. I did not hesitate, i decided to pack everything i own into a small pick up truck and head north. Blair had offered me a room here in the Midway Hotel and i jumped right on it. The day i arrived i began painting and decorating my room on the third floor, and began to make myself known in this town. I got a job in a small family eatery as a cook to make ends meet. I have also met this cool girl up here and we get closer by the day. Its funny how life seems to wait for you in the most unsuspecting places, but it does.

Thank you Blair and all who have helped welcome me to this part of the world, Steven

___________________________________________________

Blair Murphy writes:

The evening air was so beautiful tonight it was almost pink.Back to top
 
___________________________________________________

Dylan Fornoff writes:

Hello everybody. It's Dylan. If you haven't met me I'm in the room with all the chains and you're free to hang on them as you like. Good night. -Mr. Chong

____________________________________________________

Blair Murphy writes:

Well, this last month was interesting and exhausting. It was a good deal of entertaining guests from out of town. Also some really shitty local people attacked us with all kinds of ridiculous accusations. But, all and all June was one roaring, entertaining month. You can read the better details of our two bigger June events in the completed projects section of the forum, specifically A Mid-Summer Night's Beatnik Party and The Black Pearls Ball. We even all ran out and worked the Jesus Christ Superstar show when it came to town, and we got to hang out later with the actor Ted Neely who starred in the original movie as Jesus.



The summer is now in full swing. A real metaphysical dance is going on in the air around here. Forces are absolutely with us. I can't believe some of the people I've been meeting. The circle of people related to the hotel and contacting us is sort of doubling this month. It feels like something is being brought to a head with the hotel. It is a pyramid. It is a volcano. It is a season of sweet nights.

I've mentioned to many that big changes are coming up for myself and the building. No, I'm not planning on selling the hotel. But I am now changing my focus from entertaining to a more disciplined one of releasing the current projects put in motion here as well as creating some very important new ones. By September the bigger picture should be spelled out.

The novel Wintergrave is being sent out. I am beginning the new novel Summergrave. The screenplay Cassady is being created. All the materials from the past Kerouac Fests have been shipped to the Beat Museum in San Francisco for their new exhibit celebrating the hotel and our event. Our feature film Coolsville is about to be sent out into the entire sea of film festivals. As a nod to the local scene I'm letting part of it screen this July in the Johnstown Film Festival.

Speaking of sweet nights, the other night we screened Terrence Malick's Native American epic The New World. We projected it from Adam Blai's donated projection screen DVD player so the view was sweeping and massive across our walls. What a magical evening. The evening air in the park outside, as I'd written earlier, was so warm and nice and alive it was almost pink. And the movie was so beautiful. Actress Q'orianka Kilcher's inner narration was in the form of a prayer. And the filmmaker's concentration on the visual woods and rocks and water around her, to enhance that, to mirror her inner voice, was so wonderful. My God, I felt like I was watching this area, Scalp Level and Paint and this park just outside and the Windber bowl all around me what it must have been like some two hundred or so years ago, here, even though the film takes place in Virginia. Afterward we just had to take a long walk beneath the trees of Windber.

I plan to really enjoy July and August here. The hotel has finally reached a point of freedom to do just that. A good deal of the work on the building is behind us. There are many new windows, which can be felt by the wonderful new breezes sweeping through the building. We repainted the halls a rich gloss blue and put in all new lighting which dots down along the walls in a golden gleem. Everything feels different. For the next two months anyway I plan to hole up in here like some wizard in his tower and just summon.

See what I can manifest by summer's end.

______________________________________________________

Renee Angle writes:

Well, the Full Moon summer is almost over. I've started classes again, the hotel will soon be growing colder, and change of season is upon us. I was lying in bed last night thinking how atrociously hot it was in the room, and cautioning myself to watch the complaining since before I know it I'll be immobilized by cold every time I'm at home, and that led to broader thoughts. I almost laughed out loud when the contrast between my life and the lives of everyone I graduated high school with occurred to me. I'll be seeing some of them now that I'm back on campus during the day. I visualized the scenario: we'll bump into each other, say "hi" in over-enthusiastic tones the way people feel obligated to do, and then begin to make awkward small-talk. When asked what I did with my summer, I will have to respond with something like, "Well, I lived in an old haunted hotel with a bunch of artists, fell in love with an old guy, and just barely managed to swing from paycheck to paycheck like a dexterous little spider monkey. I spent my days writing poetry and am now working on a novel. And no, I did not go to the beach" The person will surely think (if not outright say), "That sounds horrible!" but I will be able to truly say, "It was the best summer of my life!!!!!!"

It wasn't perfect. Nothing is. There was plenty of bickering within the group, fights, grudges, awkward tensions. People ate other people's food, got busted in lies, formed alliances which turned out to be disastrous. Ignorant local people said rotten things about us and sewed the seeds of discouragement. Maybe some of us temporarily lost sight of the main goal, which is to be a group that supports each other in the arts no matter what. But so what? How can you have a group of forty-some artists in a tiny conservative town like this and not expect some kinds of issues to arise? Overall, I'd say we did well.

We had two excellent parties in June. I was truly enraptured with the performances at the jazz party, particularly that of Christiane D. That woman blew me away with her scathing lyrics and incredible voice. I would have to count her among recent poetic influences I have discovered. The Gothic party, particularly the second day, was even better. I've always been a sucker for costumes, and of course we all adore spooky stuff. Damien's show was one of the highlights of my live music experiences. Especially his closer where he had everyone scream with him. How radical! I slipped completely into dementia during that piece, I believe, and let me tell you it was very satisfying indeed. Everyone reserves the right to go a little nuts now and then. Walking around Windber during a Miner's Day festival in my gothic gypsy costume is also a memory I will cherish for quite awhile. Paul Kazupas recorded his live Hollow Owl album here in July, so we had another gathering of the hotel family. It was great fun. I lost all inhibitions and danced to the music, figuring that no matter how absurd I looked I couldn't begin to be outshined by Dylan. (Hahaha, just kidding Dylan. I love your dancing.) I heard some excellent music that day and met some cool new people.



Not to mention the ghost activity! I won't reiterate all the posts about it, but I couldn't adequately sum up my summer here without mentioning the constant presence of supernatural forces hovering around. What a mind-trip that's been. The funny part is, I'm pretty much conditioned to it by this point. I'll see or hear or feel something spooky, and I'll just be like, "Oh. A ghost. Cool."

Two trips this summer served to define it for me. The first to the Starwood Festival in Sherman, NY near the end of July. And go figure, it was right around the time of the Full Moon. Blair and I camped in the woods for nearly four days. Our tent wasn't properly assembled so we got rained on, and we were pretty icky with woods dirt by the time we got back, but it was still a fantastic time. We attended lots of classes on New Age and Pagan topics, got a rare chance to swim in a pool, and experienced an environment completely different from anything you'll ever find around here. Maybe anywhere. On the final night there was the biggest bonfire you can imagine in the center of the grounds, surrounded by dancers, people in weird costumes, creatures made out of various materials and hoisted on sticks...you had to be there. It was amazing. Everyone seemed connected to everyone else. The fire lasted all night, and the soothing sound of drum circles could be heard round the clock. I wish everyone could be as nice all the time as the people were to each other at Starwood. It was impossible to be unhappy. While wandering around the shop booths, a heart necklace caught my attention. I liked it but I didn't have money so I moved on and started rooting through a bin of discount clothes, and forgot about it for the most part. Later in the hot tub Blair told everybody he was going to reach to the bottom of the pool and pull out something I'd recognize. I was waiting for him to pull up my foot or do some other such mischievous thing, but instead he pulled up the necklace. I have no idea how he managed to buy it and conceal it from me that whole time, but he did. I haven't taken it off since except for a few hours when I had surgery and they made me. What can I say? it was one of the top simple things people have done for me that just moved me in a way I can't explain with words.

The other trip was when Blair went to interview Steve Edington at Jack Kerouac's grave in Lowell, Mass. and allowed me to tag along. It was a beautiful sunny day, and while I sat by the grave I wrote my poem, "The Star" which I consider to be my most important of this summer's works. Afterwards, we had an opportunity to see the display of the original scroll on which <i>On The Road</i> is written. We also listened to an abridged version of the novel on tape in the car. After Lowell we drove to Salem. I have to be honest, it was mostly just a lot of tourist cheese. Maybe we were too hard on it considering as we'd just come from Starwood. But regardless, it was a fun experience if not exactly an enchanting one. And we found a little old graveyard in the center of the town that really did feel enchanting. Something about that place was right up our alley, shrouded in mystery. it was full of those old-fashioned super-thin grave markers. If I ever change my mind and decide to be buried, I think I want a marker like that. Finally, we stopped in Philly and Blair showed me the artsy-bohemian South Street. We saw an amazing garden made mostly out of bits of broken mirror and other apparent "garbage," browsed New Age stores, and saw the Theater of the Living Arts where Blair worked when he was...well, my age! I went into my first porno shop and had my first Philly steak sandwich. We also drove around Haddonfield, NJ and Blair shared some of its surprising history with me.

So now, we're winding down. We're still all looking forward to the Dog Run and (of course) Halloween, which I can imagine is particularly delicious in this place. Blair and I are listening to The New Testament on tape in our free time. I've started writing my first novel (you may laugh if you want) and of course Dylan has taken on the project of painting the huge sacred heart in the bar. Once we put the window back in the bar, between my giant Jesus statue and Dylan's painting in the bar maybe people will finally start saying nicer things about the hotel. Despite the cold, I have high hopes and good feelings. I think this next season is going to be excellent and productive.

Wow, I wrote a lot. Couldn't help it, I could go on and on and on, it's been such an interesting summer. I want to thank everyone who contributed to my experience for allowing me to share a piece of your lives. I couldn't be happier with where I am right now.

______________________________________________________

Dylan Fornoff writes:

Monologue from the Drama 'Van Gogh' by Yevtush



We are the men
who have believed in distant goals,
we the penniless masters.
We issued from Homer's rib,
from Rembrandt's rib.
We need
no swollen-head society
neither Mahomet,
nor Christ,
but only a crust of black bread,
paper,
clay,
canvas!
Stir then, paints,
and musical notes!
In form the earth is also old-
we shall endow her with a new form,
we the penniless masters!
What if we hear now catcalls,
now the baying pack,
what if the days are fraught with instability,
yet ably we shall be avenged
on those who disbelieve in our abilities!
Forward then,
breaking fresh ground,
and guessing true!
Up, brothers,
it's time to journey forth.
How rich we are,
we the penniless masters!

_____________________________________________________

Renee Angle writes:

How rich we are.


(Blair, Dylan, and Renee at the drive in)


_______________________________________________________

Blair Murphy writes:

The Hotel at 1:30 AM on a Random Winter Thursday

What a trip! I just spoke with Phat Man Dee tonight. She is coming back out perhaps in February to perform. Yea! It will be a massive beautiful blues night here in Windber. She is going to perform at the Windber Hotel and then probably come to a late night here. Chris Yambar just called as well. He is planning something and said he needs to visit to discuss it. Tonight I am in the attic putting down insulation over the entire hotel. It feels great to finally knock this job out. The windows are all done too, so the cold is finally not so cold. Amazing, the first winter here that wasn't 'difficult'. Dylan is recreating a room in the back third floor. Renee is up working on some new novel. So we have the radio blasting in the halls and suddenly I thought I recognized a voice over the airways. I cried out, "That's Rosemary Ellen Guiley!" Our friend, the ghost researcher, is speaking on the George Noory Show to millions of listeners right now as I type this!

She's talking about EVPs and Frank's Box. This is a great show. I should be recording it.

Renee is laughing, "She's been here hanging out in a leapard suit."

Rosemary just said of Ouija Boards how people tend to bring negative baggage and expectations to them, taking the stand, "I think all of these devices are inherately neutral." She has Frank's Box #22. I foresee one of these eventually ending up here without question as these things inevitably come my way.

_______________________________Blair Murphy writes:

Random Weekends Lately

Last weekend Sarah Ireland surprised us by sweeping into town and cooking a huge salmon feast for the circle of us. I rushed out and bought Christmas stockings for about ten people and filled them with little gifts. I bought Renee an elf hat that I absoluetly love on her. Joey and Stef joined in, among others, and they all went bowling. It was a grand night. Sarah already is apparently planning another one for some time in January.

Then, Honore Childs Young came out to visit this weekend. She and Dylan and Renee camped out in the kitchen and painted all weekend. Honore was creating a beautiful painting gift for a friend back home. Their creative energy seemed to have fed on one another, with Dylan and Renee tossing works from their own guts out onto canvas across the kitchen floor. Maybe 3 AM I came home with a half dozen new friends and they joined the warmth. Beer and great food and colored chalks decorated the late hours. I love walking into this place when the artwork is happening like that.

Then, Adam Blai came out to visit! It turns out Adam and Honore are actually considering moving into the hotel for next year. Adam had this idea to heat the third floor halls. At first I was skeptical, myself only heating the rooms. But he had all these ideas and plans and offered to make it happen in exchange for a room for the winter. He has three books he is about to write and needs a room with a desk to hide away in for a season. I picture Windber driving by and seeing him burning the late night oil in the third floor front window. I am doing the same thing with the Cassady screenplay and editing. Adam and I have some very different views of what we are doing with our missions here on the planet. But we are on the same page as far as seeing our works as sacred and perpetuating the this artist camp into that direction. He was even talking today about buying stained glass windows for parts of the third floor.

We sat back in the screening room and watched a new movie. Honore brought the film The Fountain. It was beautiful. And then in the end credits I saw that the Executive Producer was Nick Wechsler, who I know. (Nick almost produced Jugular Wine. We sat in his office and had a meeting over it. But that was long ago, in a distant galaxy, far, far away...and is a different story altogether.) The screening was a blast. We bought candy and made popcorn, and the beautiful film visuals splashed twenty feet across. Everything felt very intimate and beautiful. What glorious nights these are to sit back and watch beautiful works of art created by people we even know, and then to discuss them over coffee, and then even plan for potential new ones. Adam coming into this building definitely shaped certain new aspects of it. The Screening Room, for me, being a filmmaker, is an exceptional treat.

I've been working in the massive attic that covers the hotel, laying down insulation. No one ever sees this space. Right now, because of the lighting, the attic feels like Colonel Kurtz's mystical cave from Apocalypse Now. The entire building feels radical right now. I think I am going to carpet the two upstairs halls with long burgundy rugs. There are a few theme rooms still here, the Mermaid Room, the Monkey Room, the library, etc, but I am going to turn most of the remaining upstairs rooms into some kind of standard old hotel rooms that all match with a kind of 1880s decor. So, that is the new canvas as far as what you'll see manifesting next. Get ready to step back in time into a sepia dream complete with newspapers and photographs of the time. Last night Dylan and I discussed the idea to build a large chess set using tall nutcracker statues. I imagine just after Christmas, when they all go on sale, we'll buy two armies of them and create the floor board for it. Won't that be an amazing chess set?! Big heavy pieces to grip? Dylan demands that we have an ongoing hotel chess tournament. The entire place is fast finalizing.


(Dylan working late last night)

Honore is going to bring that amazing costume she sewed for the first Black Pearls Ball last summer. I'm going to put it on a mannequin with a mirror behind it. That will be a pretty stunning figure to run into alone on the third floor hall. (The second floor hall is now lined with taxidermy deer heads looking down as kind of forest gods. It is so enchanting.) There is a secret back hall which I plan to build a secret bookshelf 'wall door' to hide where it goes. It goes to a full room that is sort of hidden in the building, sometimes called the Zombie Room. Now I guess it will be called the Hidden Zombie Room. Honore, Adam and I joked that we could consolidate all the creative costumes we own into it as a hidden costume room for the many elaborate dinner parties we plan to host this upcoming year. (I'm glad they sound as focused as I am demanding the building to be in that the season to come is one of manifesting big projects with most of the riff raff cut out. There is just too much work happening for me to deal with nonsense right now. The place really is surging with creative energy. This is what I wanted it to be when I set out to create that sort of temple or environment. The building really is a temple.) Anyway, for now things are excellent and exciting and enchanting and with so many projects happening among all of us, in so many directions, it is a very inspiring flame we are burning for one another.

Adam is going to let me know later tonight after he gets home his decision if they plan leap into the hotel for the rest of the winter and Spring or not. Either way it was a great roaring two weeks of energy and churning possible plans. Already just from brainstorming within a pack of focused artists the building has changed. Every time people visit the building changes, but this week was amazing.

When I leave the room, as he stands to attention I say to Dylan, the young man who is creating the sacred sacred heart of the hotel, "Good luck, General."

And he salutes me back, "Your Majesty."

Now I'm off to head back up into the attic to finish the mystical insulation with Colonel Kurtz. It doesn't even feel like work. I'm loving it. I'm stretching my hands across this big breathing canvas and working it, making it work, working it like clay. And so many of our friends are playing a sudden role as well. I really think something is about to explode this early next year. Every day things are happening here, and, as I say, there is a feeling of great finalizing happening. What a lot of surprises. (Even that new ghost show by A&E that came here is finally broadcasting their pilot episode later tonight, Paranormal State. Adam will be on the show as one of the senior investigators. ha ha. 10 pm tonight on A&E. Check it out.) Well, the night is still young. It is only 6 PM in the outside world, but it is, as they say, always 4 AM in the hotel. I wonder what the rest of the night can bring. I am on fire.

____________________________________________________

Blair Murphy writes:

The eye altering, alters all.
-William Blake
__________________________________________________

Honore Childs Young writes:

what a weekend...thank you all for being such gracious hosts!...what a special treat to really meet you...

pray the world the world never finds out what talent lines those halls lest you all be taken and studied with curious and sterile medical devices to isolate the components that make you understand and celebrate invention so!...i eagerly await the opportunity to study it more myself...can you believe it?! how strangers were afforded a chance to be together during such a vulnerable state as creation? how we were able to let go of fear and doubt long enough to thrive off each other's energy? how the weeks prior, cold and hard, led us to be ripe for each other?!....thank you indeed...it was my pleasure to work along side the wonderful and complicated minds inside those walls...inspired those days and nights fell on us!...is it the next time yet?!
_____________________________________________________

Blair Murphy writes:

New Years Blast

Well, to say that all the weirdos and creeps and bohemians gravitated toward the hotel might be an overstatement, but still there is a wonderful seed of truth in all that mythology. New Years night was spent in a local bar...and I looked out into the crowd and noticed the coolest thing: everyone in our tribe, the hotel tribe, had old dried paint on their hands. It was subtle but it was also like a badge. I could tell who was 'of us' just by the smears of dried paint on their forearms. Red here. Blue there. Green on another. Yes, yes! Artists, hidden, reveling, the new year ready for everyone to emerge.

Tattoo artist Jim Bartelosio, sculptor George Turner, Dylan finishing his sacred heart mural, word from Jerry Cimino and his Beat Musuem across the country, filmmaker Ken Brady from New York, I can't tell you how many fellow artists I'd heard from that night. Even Bob Dylan called just to say hello and give his kudos for what weve been doing here. (Well, not really that one. I made that up. But still, it all was excellent none the less.)

Later, maybe 2 AM, I came home to find the Grand Midway Hotel a mad house. It was like that animated Rudolf cartoon with the Island of Misfit Toys. I won't name any names, but the building was roaring with crazy energy. We surged till dawn. I'd put on the wide screen a concert from Rage Against the Machine at top volume and danced across sofa after sofa in a Pan burst of brillaince and joy. Just pure energy ready for the new year. One guest jumped out the second floor window to escape. My poor neighbors...

Andrew Turman. the nutty local unemployed painter, started it right. Andrew's wife just threw him out. But from his pocket he proudly pulled a new check for $1000 which he was just paid for his latest painting. Finally.