Post-It-KnowtsIf you post it and you know it map your hands. Platitudes and doodles on the go, because the only truth is sounding true.
There was a point when I wandered around to all the events in Miami’s art scene, no friends, no sense of self, no nothing. I just showed up and imposed my inexplicable presence on people. In other words, I tried to meet them. The main problem was that I could never remember who I met, what their names were, what they looked like. A night of new faces would pass through me like a deep and untraceable dream. So I began taking post it knowts with me everywhere, for writing contact information, for saving parcels of observations and so forth. It almost became my shtick–Alejandro the post it knowt “autist”. I didn’t have business cards, I just improvised a post it knowt and handed it to the completely off-put strangers I met.
I would often get bored wherever I was and begin pasting my little messages all over myself.
But I don’t make post it knowts anymore. It’s the end of an era. Damn.