• Notable Notes: Drawings by Writers and Composers: bp's page from the Unbearable's detournement of the Chicago Manual of Style, ominous bible of writers/text workers everywhere. Included as one of the Unbearables' contributions to the show Notable Notes, curated by poet Diane Waldman for the Joseph Hellman Gallery in NYC, December 3, 1997 to January 17, 1998. Drawings by: Laurie Anderson, John Cage, Lewis Caroll, e.e. cummings, Merce Cunningham, Arnold Schoenberg, Robert Wilson...

• Zoviet France Cassette: Exhibited in the group show “Small Objects That Save Lives” in De Appel: Amsterdam, 1998. When I began thinking about small objects that saved my life, my first thought-object was this tape of the obscure earth-bound ambiences by Zoviet France. I've learned over time that first thought = best thought, so I went with this tape, one of only six I brought along when I left Paris by train in the Winter of 1990 for the heart of the south of France; destined for a country house of my then in-laws, to spend time away from people, writing my novel, BEER MYSTIC, in the foothills of the Montagnes Noirs, in the beautiful heart of nowhere. On misty, snowy days I'd get up at 6 am, put wood in the stove, make coffee and then spend 8 hours writing. My only companion was a cheap radio-tape deck. And the tape I often played for the entire 8 hours was this one. Over and over. 3 months later, I was ready to return to Paris and I was no less sane than when I'd arrived.

• John Cage & the Acorns: Granary Books in NYC, when it was still located on Broadway & Prince. It must've been early 1992 because I see now that Cage died August 12, 1992. It was then that small press publisher-friend Chris P. invited me to come along to a show of Cage's rare printed matter, mostly books, at the Granary. After a long perusal of the assembled work under glass and a glass or two of Chardonnay I began to get jittery. Then Cage arrived & the buzz consumed me. Chris and I went up to Cage, shook his hand and said we admired him or something. With all the words we have in common in the dictionary, words remained inadequate. He responded graciously and quickly went on to other well-wishers. It was then that I began fumbling in my pockets, jiggling change and realizing I had a pocket full of acorns, which I'd picked up along the way during one of my lengthy dream/writing meanderings [peripatetic meditation?]. I was charmed by how beautiful these acorns looked and felt. I removed the acorns from my pocket and in a pixy fit to quell nervous boredom I discreetly placed geometric constellations of acorns on all of the glass display cases. And then I left. 6 months later, CP encouraged me to go see the director of the gallery, Steven Clay, I believe, to talk about our collaborative chapbooks of my urban haiku: Paris Scratch and NY Sinphoney In Face Flat Minor. Although polite and appreciative of our work, Clay could not envision the Granary doing anything with our publications. Then suddenly, I spotted a handful off acorns on a filing cabinet and asked Clay about them. He said that someone during the Cage opening had left behind this great installation [or did he call it sculpture?] and afterward, he had collected and saved the acorns. What a small and wonderful world it can be for minutes at a time. "Acorn Cigar Box" by Paloma & bp, 2005.

• Beer Can Row: Fusion Arts, Stanton Street, 1994. I walked thousands of miles and picked up hundreds of crushed cans. They reminded me of roadkill of a currency in an alternate universe. The show went well. One opinionated woman said: "Why would you put garbage on the wall? This is not art, this is punishment. And it'll just attract roaches." We got married the next day...

• Street Sweep Books, 1993, price 5293.20 euros Unique swatch books of recycled street detritus [flyers from the streets of NY] recycled into 15 one-of-a-kind books of visual swatches and temporal snatches given as mnemonic fetish books. I used to wander the streets of NY and was fascinated by the chance encounters facilitated by the wind and the habits of residents of street garbage in the form of printed matter and how my collecting them created not only a short breath of cleanliness but also unique visual cadavre exquis.

• Jayne Mansfield & Windshield Crystals: 1992, price 2919.67 euros One aspect of the ongoing “Windshield Crystal Collection Project,” which created a story for each of the thousands of “puddle” and mound of broken windshield crystals found on the streets of NYC after a break-in. Each a site of intrusion and invasion, destabilization and lost faith. Exhibit also included cocktail glasses and tagged bottles filled with windshield crystals. “10 Steps” Group Show at Muranushi-Lederman Gallery, NY, 1992.

• Radio Hypnosis in the US of A, ValBar 1984, price 6385.36 euros Medical slide/stanza in glass box-poem. Imagine if a possessed and stateless visionary had written the National Anthem... Concept-poesie, bart plantenga & concept-visuals, Valerie Haller. Reprinted in Befor It Gets Lostand performed on numerous occasions to utter bewilderment and restrained awe. "yr raging glory from / a basement of crates // Cream puffs combing the / streets for their cream // the speeding hawaiian / in a boring belt of dogs..."

• “Ersatz Ego” in Not Guilty nos. 5 & 6, edited by Derek Pell, NYC 1980. Part of the misguided strategy of altering acceptable reality armed with post-surrealist collage techniques. "I was young. Not yet cut off at the knees. i carried my youth like gunpowder."

• Revolution is not Pretty: Neo-Post-Quasi-Situationist Art: Nana's, 11, rue Bernard Paissy, Paris, 26 Feb. to 30 April 1989. The idea was to dine among undigestible art. Decorative provocation? Or just a case of intent outstripping result? Reactions were mixed with medium-priced Gamays. Dinner at Nana's as celebration was payment with unlimited wine and outrageous declarations of inter-dependence and esprit de corps. The true value of art is that it has a herding function, drawing together lonely people out of their garrets for a short while of human interaction. Pleasure as the ultimate revenge and obscurity as spiritual insider trading? We were on top of a world that refused to stop spinning.

In 1995, I believe, I did what I rarely do -- appear in public to DJ. Rarer yet, for a paid gig at the wedding of two fans of my radio show. The gig was well-paid and a challenge, ultimately I had to set up a barrier to prevent irate wedding attendees from doing me bodily harm. The bride fending off one irate woman. But half the people were into what I was playing, what I usually play on Wreck, while the other half were livid to the point of contemplating lynching. And when I did play dance music [often] it did not please the crowd from Jersey who demanded I play "their" kind of dance music, white people, Bruce Springsteen, the like. My retreat back into the safety of the radio station bunker was inevitable.

• Paloma, age 2 gives that intense meditative stare of attempting to comprehend the universe in the area between my ears. Advice: keep your eyebrows trimmed and try to smile. Entering the main square we spotted various human statues standing still as ... statues. This frozen mime playing a bronze statue of Rubenswas eerie to most people and certainly kids. Paloma was the only one who dared to approach this statue and give it a hand, which was rewarded by a sudden move by the statue offering his hand in return.

• Paloma, age 3 decided her role model was Zorro, which could be seen every afternoon on Belgium TV. I watched in mortified delight as my childhood of superhero-worship [I preferred a combo of Batman, Ben Hur and Popeye when I was 7. Paloma is now into hip-gal superheroes like totally Spies or Winx Club... Slick chicks who make the world a better place to buy clothes in.

• Paloma, age 4 stands fortuitously under good advice in Amstel Park