aster

this summer: montreal.

my three most unreliable friends live in montreal.

U is a hardcore intellectual chick with a degree in theory and criticism. she avoids phone calls and has no voice mail. she's foxy and smart...one of the most intelligent, independent women i know, and a lot of fun, when she deems you worthy of her time. U looks great in a pair of high black boots.

P is an anarchist who seems to veer further left every year. P's character is a little obsessive-compulsive. he'll spend hours in the bathroom, even if people are waiting at the door for him. the water will run, then stop, then run, and i wonder if he's one of those people who must perform tasks in the exact same order every time, or start over again. P is terminally late to everything. he loves pranks.

M is a mail-artist who frequently sends all his work away, and then beseeches you to mail them back when he has a show or needs to get his portfolio in shape. he's been hospitalized for depression twice, and has been on various medications since he was 16. but for a depressed person, he's remarkably active, attending back-to-work programs, art classes, and sex addicts anonymous ("we had a party last week, but weren't allowed to bring anyone home!"). M likes attention. i arrived in montreal one year just as he disconnected his phone. i called his mom, frantic that he had killed himself. "oh, i just saw him heading out earlier!" she said. "but don't let him know i talked to you."

sometimes i arrive in montreal and wonder if i'll just wind up in a hostel by myself for a week. but it's worth it.