Keith Haring Journals (39 page)

I was getting a little nervous about the progress of the container and let out my frustrations on Kaz. He assured me we’d try to resolve the problems. After meeting and stressing the importance of the deadline, people started to take it more seriously. I went to the hotel to get my paint to work on the sign for the gate and the red circle. Juan had agreed to go to the airport to meet the people coming from New York. I worked on the gate sign on top of the roof of the container and then started the red circle. It seemed that Kaz and my lecture in the morning were effective since now things seemed to be getting done very quickly. The carpenters arrived and put in the new floor, the stones for the yard arrived, the gate went up, etc., etc. Finally it looks like this thing is really going to happen.

Kwong Chi arrived as I was finishing the red circle. He said he had been to the pool and he had good stories of showers and hairless bodies. I’m looking forward to going swimming tomorrow. We walked home through Harajuku. We found several funny fake T-shirts in one shop there. One particularly funny one had a copy of my baby sort of running that said underneath it, “Run Away Children.” Others had copies of drawings and unintelligible phrases. I got back to the hotel, and then the phone rang. The New York crew had arrived.

Everyone walked through Shibuya and looked at the neon signs. We’re quite a group, all together: Junior short, white and sort of comical and always snapping at everyone and everything (yes, Miss Girl); Adolfo [Arena] looking mulatto and like an adorable teddy bear; Jessica [Gines] pretty, and very New York Puerto Rican; Brian [McIntyre], who everyone thinks is Eddie Murphy; Kwong Chi, who everyone thinks is Japanese but is actually not very Japanese-looking at all to me; Juan, forever handsome with a chameleon face that adapts to every place we go, making him look Brazilian, Moroccan, or in this case part Japanese; and me (no comment).

Everyone tired so we head back to the hotel. First a quick stop at Mister Donut, where there is a
Big River
theme this month and the whole place is covered with Tom Sawyer decor, some of it cartoon and some realistic. On the bags there is a pastel drawing of Tom Sawyer on a raft with Harry Belafonte. (I swear to God, it’s his face.)

Wake up to the band sounds again. Today we discovered the source: There is a school behind the hotel and at 8:30 every morning, it is the marching band rehearsal. They’re really good. I called the CBS correspondent who is covering the Shop opening for CBS Morning News and went over our shooting schedule.

I got to the container around 3:30 and started covering the floors with the paper and then began to paint the walls and ceiling. They had gotten a gas blower-heater to dry the paint. The fumes of the gas were making me nauseous and the work was not going as fast as I expected. Taka, the Pop Shop “cute boy” employee, was assisting me in cleaning up my drips of paint on the floor. By the time Juan, Jessica [Gines], Brian [McIntyre] and Adolfo [Arena] arrived I was starting to feel sick and had diarrhea and didn’t want to finish. Juan didn’t appreciate Taka, and Brian immediately started to put the move on Taka. I decided I’d stop painting instead of finishing the whole inside tonight. CBS had already shot footage and now another crew from a show called
11
PM wanted to shoot. I forced myself to paint some more for the TV crew, and then finished for the night. Sato and Taka gave me shiatsu to try to relieve the pain in my neck and shoulder from painting the ceiling.

Wake up early and go to the Shop to resume painting. I feel much better today, and painting goes O.K. We don’t use the dryer because of the fumes. The staff begins to work in the display cases and I begin the floor. Brian, Jessica and Juan visit. Adolfo doesn’t. I’m getting more annoyed about this and keep asking what’s wrong. It seems Junior and Adolfo are complaining about being here and not having a good time. I’m trying to concentrate on painting, but am getting concerned about the situation. By the time I take a break from doing the floor and go outside with Juan, Jessica and Brian, I’m feeling exhausted but also exhilarated by progress on the Shop. I make a comment to Juan about how amazing it is how much has gotten done in so little time, and his only reply is to criticize the staff for “cutting corners” and to point out some small details that aren’t resolved. I blow up and say, “Fuck you, I don’t want to hear that now.” I’m really pissed-off because I’ve been working my ass off and he only has criticism instead of encouragement. I go across the street alone, telling myself I’ve had it and don’t want to be around someone like this anymore. I reconsider his idea of a “divorce.” It sounds like a good idea. I try to block this out and continue working, but when he returns to the Shop with food I ignore him. Brian stays, and Jessica and Juan leave.

I finish painting about four hours later at 1:00 AM, totally exhausted. I was putting the floor paint on very thick so it would be more durable. Kaz, Kwong, Brian, Julia and I go to a small restaurant to eat and I return to the hotel totally beat at 2:30 AM. Juan is asleep and I avoid him in bed because I’m still mad about his “attitude” earlier.

Wake up at 6:45 to do the installation shots with Kwong Chi. I call Adolfo to make sure he’ll at least be at the press conference at 12:30, and tell him to bring Junior and Jessica. Kwong and Brian are already at the Shop and call to alert me that the floor is still wet. I am on my way. When I arrive they are outside the container. We turn on the gas heater-blower and try to dry the paint. Most of the floor is O.K. but parts are tacky. The Formica counter and poster display counter are really wet. We start taking photos on the dry side. The dryer seems to be working, but everyone is nervous because the Shop must be ready to open in four hours and no display of products has been done yet. We continue making installation photos, although the electricity keeps shutting off. The staff arrives around 8:30, and begins working in the stock-room and outside. At 10 o’clock we finish our photos and begin “display.” It is rather hectic since I want to oversee and design all the displays. Everyone is working well under pressure, however. New York crew arrives with seemingly less attitude, although they’re not much help, either. Press begins to arrive, including an AP photographer.

At 7:00 I finish, exhausted, and return to the hotel.

I go immediately to Adolfo’s room to discuss all the “attitude” and complaints I keep hearing second-hand. He denies everything, of course, except that Junior feels he came too early. I am really pissed. Who asked Junior to come so early? I suggested a ten-day trip because I thought they’d like it, not to do
me
any favor. I wish they had never come at this point, and assure him they can both leave whenever they want. I’m too tired to go through the whole thing with Junior right away and we’re expected to meet for dinner soon. I go to our room.

But dinner is disastrous. We go to a nice Italian restaurant near Harajuku. By this point everyone is already taking sides and being defensive. It is split between those who want to be in Japan and those who don’t, with some exceptions on both sides. People are already tired of each other, in particular Junior and Brian and Julia and Junior and Adolfo, and everyone is tired of Jessica’s mouth. Kwong and Julia are at one end of the table with Brian, Kaz and Fran, and I’m in the middle. Juan is stuck in between and suffers from my frustration with the inability to cope. He doesn’t want to be on either side, but changes seats to be away from the “intellectual” end of the table. This comment along with Brian’s stupid mistake of eating Juan’s food just because the waiter put it in front of him by accident, and several snide comments from Junior about Juan and me not having sex (which I am furious to find is common knowledge at this end of the table) and Jessica’s obnoxious dinner manners and loud mouth all add up to a horrible meal. I’m beginning to freak out realizing there is almost a full week to go and no pleasant end in sight.

After dinner, while still at the table, Julia lets me know more of her feelings and assures me not to worry, although of course I am worrying. We finally leave. By this point I am angry with Juan again because of the dinner conversation. Three days without sex and it is a major issue. I’m bored again and angry and confused and feel betrayed.

We walk home and on the way Juan finds a stuffed donkey toy in the trash and wants to bring it with us. I’m fed up and don’t want it in my (our) room. By the time we reach the hotel it is worse. We all go to Adolfo’s room and watch this stupid TV show that did a story about the Shop. The coverage is pretty dumb, a sleazy game-show type atmosphere with show girls. After the show Juan and I go to the room. My stomach hurts (probably from nerves) and I’m pissed about the dinner conversation. I’m determined, now, to make our non-sex an issue, by continuing to avoid contact with Juan. We go to sleep almost immediately.

8:30: I wake up hearing Juan in the shower and fumbling around his clothes, and assume he is getting up to take a walk or give me a scare by disappearing all day. I pretend to be asleep and let him leave, subconsciously wishing he’d leave for good. At 10:00 I get up and shower and shave and head to the Shop for what is supposed to be the big “opening day” to the public. When I arrive, there is no one there, no lines, no waiting fans, nobody. CBS News is there again to film the anticipated crowds. Obviously the advance publicity never reached the right people. Last night’s TV show was not exactly what I’d call good publicity. The four photo shoots we did last weekend for
Friday
magazine (a popular weekly) were bumped by a chief editor for “political” reasons. Apparently people were not aware of the fact that I’d be at the Shop all day on the opening, so all the autograph-seekers and fans I’ve been encountering everywhere I go weren’t aware of the “opening.”

People trickle in. I do a short TV interview and then go to the NY diner for breakfast. Feeling guilty, I call the hotel to find Juan and leave a message for him to come to the Shop. Kwong and Julia arrive, looking distressed, and talk to Kaz, trying to avoid me. I ask what’s wrong and they explain Juan is on a plane to New York. I wasn’t really expecting him to actually leave. I’m sort of shaking and trying to act “normal,” but have lost my composure. I take a Valium I’d brought, anticipating a hectic day of signing, and try to rationalize. Adolfo, Junior and Jessica arrive. Adolfo brings me a bottle of Absolut. They obviously all know. Junior, Adolfo and Brian are persuaded to go on a tour to the Imperial Palace. Jessica stays and comforts me while I try to be pleasant and smile and sign autographs. The attendance is constant, but sparse.

Jessica and I go to the hotel to call JAL to see if he really got on the plane. They say he boarded a flight to Chicago and is going to transfer to San Juan. I assume he’s going to stay with Paul in Puerto Rico. He didn’t take anything—keys, money, etc. I have to return to the Shop and try to preoccupy my mind. I have meetings and sign autographs. At around 7:00 the Cover Girls visit and hang out for a while. We do some photos and I tell them I’ll probably see them next week in New York at the reopening of Studio 54, where they are performing. Meeting with the ceramics guy who’s working on the rice bowls. To hotel with Junior, Jessica, Brian and Adolfo on the subway—drinking Absolut. We hang out in the room and I call JAL to try to leave an emergency message in Chicago for Juan when he is changing planes. They say they will try. We all go to eat in Shinjuku (except Junior) and go to Boogie Boy afterward, where we all get smashed. Julia is especially drunk and being fun, dancing. We taxi home around 3:00 in the morning.

I have to be awake for an 11:00 AM interview at the Shop. I am preoccupied with Juan and find it difficult to be “cute.” Return to hotel—there is no message from Juan, but he probably never looked at the message board in Chicago. Eat lunch with Jessica and then go to my room to write.

At 4:30 in the morning Juan calls. He’s at Nicky’s house. He says he’s sorry, but needed time away and says I need to decide what I want. This is true. He says I should spend time alone in New York when I return. I am most concerned about his well-being and tell him to get the house keys. He says he’ll wait for me to get home, and we both tell each other we love each other. We talk for an hour. I feel better knowing he’s O.K., but I really have to decide what’s the best thing for me to do. Rationally I think it will never work out perfectly, but on the other hand, I still really love him. I need some time to think, I guess.

Leave New York at 9:00 for airport after having been up all night, almost, and packing last minute as usual. Alain was visiting from Paris, so I went to dinner with him and then to Studio 54, but we didn’t get in (too full), so we went to the World. Stayed a while and went home. Last night everyone came to the studio to visit. Seems like I’m going away for a long time—but it’s only a week.

I just finished reading Jean Dubuffet’s
Asphyxiating Culture
(a recent translation). It sort of rambles and repeats itself, but the message is clear as a bell and is frighteningly true. The entire concept of culture is fabricated by an elitist, power/money conspiracy tied to the Catholic Church, ruling parties, and the “powers-that-be” in general. The very concept of an Official Culture that is recorded, explained and supported by the wealthy and powerful is no more than another way to insure their control and dominance.

The museums and “history” books are full of “objective observations” that present themselves as
fact
. But the “culture” has been invented. It is what they say it is. Naturally, whatever they choose to ignore or exclude from “their history” is somehow forgotten and left out of their “culture.” Periodically, token homage may be paid, but only after it has been whitewashed and “explained” through their concepts and “cultural evaluations.”