there’s a lot of artists in new york

we’re all very close
and we all hang out at night
discuss different things

when you’re 20 years old
it’s easy to make something that looks like art
but isn’t

people understand what art is supposed to look like

it’s become popular
to be an artist
the creative generation
there’s no reason that we can’t go back to the past

there was a lot more happening
during my time in high school

it seems like
the universal intent of all artists
is to have an impact on the discourse of art itself
I didn’t think I was doing anything new
I can't say oh, I want my paintings to be red

I want to take a lot of time to let stuff happen
a lot of these critics
think that the work I’m doing could’ve been made 60 years ago

when I think of a lot of people's idea of progress
it's stupid

I don’t know if you can tell by now
but I’m pretty world-weary

I really want to stay out of the art world right now

what kind of bully does that to a 26 year old?
I just wanted to make a good painting.






find me in a pile of silk on the hardwood floor
not really sure what i want anymore

i no longer want to do anything but lie
in sunlight thinking about materiality and texture

painted my nails bright drippy coral the color called tart deco
in miami i lay in the sunlight for days and days well 3 days

i apply a top coat to seal everything in
the body is pretty straightforward if you don’t overthink it

but my computer doesn’t know the word overthink
how nice it must be to process only necessary information

the human body is not like a machine it says excess excess excess
i rarely write in couplets because deep down i’m a loner

couplets=codependent tercets=needy and demanding but only
from a close group of friends or confidants not generally

usually i write experimentally with lots of spaces which means
i have major gaps in my subjectivity

like it just won’t cohere like it is fragmentary in nature
i don’t know what’s missing in my life or how to find it

i’m drawn to internet advice but find it’s incompatible with foucault
the desire for fulfillment reeks of neoliberal privilege

despite this lovely color-coded chart on
my principal issue is 8. i am powerless (and i have no control over my life)

no it’s 1. there’s something wrong with me (i am not perfect)
my failure to be perfect irritates me for sure

for instance there’s tart deco polish on the edges of my fingers
i didn’t do a great job painting them only an ok job

i took advice from a youtube tutorial on drippy nails but didn’t follow it to a t
5. i am alone and lonely

in this section: nothing changes and i still don’t know
why 4. no-one notices me (it’s like i just don’t exist)

i’m just a poor postindustrial feminine form an object
stuck inside a human body and 7. i am unhappy

(even though i have no real problems) but like
what is the real and why does it exclude me

i don’t know what to want anymore
am i a pile of silk on the hardwood floor






but it’s fine
I don’t want to bother you with my problems




DANA KOPEL is a curator and writer currently pursuing an MA at the Center for Curatorial Studies, Bard College.