Lie & Indite

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Katelan V. Foisy

Feb 13

Wherein Katelan Gets Mike Into Trouble

Before we had a photographer, Mike and I had some ideas of what we wanted this project to be. In order to introduce it to potential photographers, I had to come up with some images, so Mike came over to do a trial run. From those first quick snapshots, I photoshopped together some teasers. But the original teaser was this:

Apparently it caused a lot of trouble. He says I’m a troublemaker, but I never believe him. I just have a different sense of “NSFW”.

The second teaser came a few days after an odd, absinthe-infused, cliquish evening of jazz and eye patches. That night there was an intense love that ran between us. As children we form intense friendships, where one person is your best friend. You love them more than you ever loved anyone and you can’t imagine your life without them. Perhaps that’s where our mindset was that night.

This is where the story actually begins. We did an impromptu piece, a prayer of sorts, at the Jazz and Wordsmiths event at 5C in the East Village. Between sips of wine and absinthe we wrote and spoke. I knew things were shifting, our projects coming together, but I didn’t know how or why. We spoke in secret that night, codes only we knew the combinations to. I told him at a Speakeasy. “I think you’ve become my muse.” We had both been on the muse journey recently. Late into the evening we parted ways. “I have to make peace with my past.” I said. “Do you need me to come with you?” he asked. “I think I have to do this one on my own,” I said.

I walked away, waiting until he left and walked to C-Squat. I sat on a stoop nearby and drank absinthe from my flask. I tried not to cry. For years Holly and Brian had been my muses and even after their deaths, they still remained. There was a part of me that just didn’t want to let go, that thought that I could never have this kind of passionate, creative relationship again, or maybe was afraid of replacing it and them. But time changes, and people change, and sometimes you can’t hold onto that anymore. And sometimes new people come into your life, and you have no idea why you’re so connected to them or trust them but you do. And it’s ok. Mike texted me, “Are you okay?” I texted back. “Always.” I finished my flask and ventured back home.

I got home and snapped two images of what I was wearing and stripped down. I cried again. Mike had texted me to see if I had gotten home safe. I wrote him back. It was secret and cryptic. He understood. I sent him a picture the next day. It wasn’t sexy, or smart, or anything in between. Just a captured moment of someone letting go of something that was holding her back. We are not our past, we’re only what we make of ourselves in the present, and what we will make of ourselves in the future. I told Mike half-jokingly, “My next book will be all about you.”

This was the photo and underneath the teaser.

TO BE CONTINUED…

x to the o,

K

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Katelan Foisy balthazar katelan v. foisy

Feb 22

II.

When I first moved to New York I had no friends, no job, and very little money. I came here largely out of default—after spending my childhood moving every 1-3 years or so, sometimes every few months, I thought the most reasonable decision after school was to pick the biggest city in the country and figure out a way of getting there and setting up a new life. I was lucky in having been obsessed for some time, so I knew my way around the city pretty well and knew the neighborhoods in which I’d be able to live. I wanted to see as much art as I possibly could, to push myself as a writer, and to get a decent job, which wasn’t possible in Michigan, though I sincerely considered moving to Detroit.

The reality when I got here was that I couldn’t find a job. I was fresh out of an intensely convoluted, destructive breakup, I had no energy, I slept 16 hours a day, and I was too caught up in my own misery to write anything. At the time, I spent most of my days looking for jobs, drinking too much, and selling pirated computer programs in Union Sq., my only source of income. My growing misery manifested itself in total blackouts, hallucinations, and night terrors, and then one, 7-page poem in three parts. It was the only poem I wrote that entire year—the poem in these photographs.

(photo courtesy Balthazar)

Befriending Katelan (or rather, Katelan befriending me) was in many ways the turning point in my life and momentum after I moved to New York. For all the tight spots I found myself in, she seemed to believe that movement was possible, and when I found myself despairing my situation, she reminded me of the commitment I had made to myself when I decided to move here. She lauded the efforts I made to move forward in my life, and she championed my poems before I ever gave a proper reading in New York. We swapped manuscripts and gave each other all kinds of good (and bad) advice. On January 31, 2010, right before we were set to meet up and ring in the New Year, she sent me a message:

Do me a favor. Write down all of the things you want to let go of in 2011 on a piece of paper, and then burn it.

I’m only reasonably superstitious, but I did as she asked, and come 2011, Lie & Indite began.

M.C.L., Feb. 2011

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Balthazar Katelan V. Foisy NYC Sonia The Elk Hotel poetry

Mar 01

The Elk Hotel

I get mad at New York sometimes. Mostly because it’s not the same place I moved here for. That was 1997. In my mind I was getting The Warriors NYC, and not Giuliani’s Disney circus. Mike can tell you, I’m a jaded New Yorker—I’ve seen the Chelsea Hotel lose its soul, CBGB’s close down, and Coney Island become the land of Fischer Price toys. But I’ve also been privy to amazing underground parties and met amazing groups of artists and performers that inspire me on a daily basis. Whether I want to admit it or not, this city has ingrained itself into me. And every once in a while you can find a place that has managed to stay true to its spirit. The Elk Hotel is one of those places, located in Times Square, one of the last of the hourly hotels in NYC. The paintings are screwed into the walls (literally through the paintings, which were upside down in our room), the mattresses come with one sheet, and many a couple have carved their names into the bedpost. Mike checked the mattress for bedbugs before we even put our things down. The Elk Hotel is a “nice” place for couples meeting by the hour. Clearly it was the perfect setting for Lie & Indite.

Photo from 14 to 42

We met up with Balthazar and Sonia in front of the hotel on a Saturday. I was late, Mike was later, caught in a Duane Reade buying markers and rubbing alcohol. When we went inside, the men running the front desk refused to rent one room to all four of us. We had to rent two rooms—each for two people. I still think we got swindled but that day I wasn’t in the mood to fight. We rented two rooms for two hours, using the one with the best light and most space. We set up the equipment, I stripped down and Mike started writing…

Photo by Balthazar

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Katelan V. Foisy balthazar

Mar 22

Process

For a while I was a naked model. I haven’t done so much lately. The process of taking off my clothes and posing has become almost second nature. Nudity doesn’t phase me. The idea of someone creating art on my body or a photographer capturing a moment, even creating one, now that’s exciting. I’m a visual creature, I live for the image, the art. It’s why I allowed Mike to write on me. It’s why I invited Balthazar and Sonia to photograph it. I just wanted to create something beautiful using different mediums.

I’m a painter. I know how to put down paint, mix colors, and follow the form. I’ve always been a fan of mixed media. Secretly I’ve always wanted to be a photographer. But as an artist I experiment. I learn. This project has been about learning, it’s been about patience.

As I lay down on that mattress and let him work, my mind wandered. I thought about things I had to do. I joked with Sonia and Balthazar. I faded away into my own world. Part of the process is letting things happen naturally, not to force them, and letting art create itself. If it’s the one thing I’ve learned over the years, it’s to never force anything.

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Balthazar Elk Hotel Katelan V. Foisy NYC art body poetry

Apr 18

Pixels on Screen

This week we become pixels.

Photos by Balthazar

Part of this experience is the New York experience. Going to sleazy motels, having limited time, the wrong markers, and making art.

We create the world we live in. We create ourselves.

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Katelan V. Foisy Sonia Kubica balthazar

May 12

The String Wears Thin At The Ends

We are coming to the end of our first session with Balthazar. Balthazar is one of those people I had only met over the computer screen. A friend had done a drunken interview with me on Filthy Gorgeous Things and he was featured as well. Somehow we connected. And on one odd day he left a comment on a photograph which prompted me to ask him to be our photographer.

Balthazar and Sonia came to my house one of the first nights they were in the city. We had an impromptu underwear party. Mike was at home. He was very jealous. There was magic between all of us. And I knew right then and there that this series of photographs was going to be special.

Balthazar writes letters. They contain stories, some true, som made up, some are clean, and some are seductive. You never know, perhaps you’ll get one of our images with your letter. Either way, it’s always lovely to get mail.

This week I am tired. I have written guest blogs, I have painted tarot cards, and I just finished a giant blog on inspiration, imagination, and neurotic behaviors. This week I want to sip champagne and eat strawberries and chocolate. This week we start with a new photographer. But until then. Here’s a few more photos from our session with Balthazar and Sonia.