from “The James Franco Project” by Sam Anderson.
holy fucking shit. as if i wasn’t already worried about this guy portraying Ginsberg in the Howl movie (he’s just not…hedonistically intellectual, dirty-ugly-sexy like Ginsberg), now this. wow. i always said my semester studying under wunder-mentor Spencer Reece in my MFA program was once-in-a-lifetime. (#spencer tagged posts) and who knows if he’ll teach writing again, as he’s in his third incarnation as Episcopal (deathbed) priest. he is one of the rarest combinations of unabashedly honest/emotional beings i’ve had the privilege of knowing combined with lyrical joy with the world around him. he was delivered some hard knocks in his life. i don’t believe Franco can…do this justice. maybe i’m just a jerk, cos’ this guy has so many artistic balls in the air, so to speak. grad school soap opera writer. ok. are they even going to touch on homosexuality/isolation-within a plastic mall culture in this film? this may be my own bias here. it only says it’s a student film, anyway. i should chill out, right? i am both shocked/not shocked for Spencer. and maybe i see Spencer-himself too strongly as the narrator in his works, which is not really-wholly-true, no matter the autobiographical topics. before i was blessed to have him guide my art (and help me write my giant thesis essay on Kenyon/Hall’s couple mythos) i was reading/studying him in college. before grad school i met him briefly at a reading and he’d worked with then-friends at their hippy-arts high school in FL before he was New Yorker-esque discovered at last. i treasure all he taught me. i miss him muchly. i was just thinking it was time to write him a letter when i went to bed last night. witchy. /freakout
