This is not art.

A Creature of Habit

1/25/23

At least once a week, I go to Freebirds. You know, the burrito place. I go to the one on Greenville Ave more often than not. My order is always the same, Freebird on flour, spanish rice, pinto beans, dark meat chicken, queso, mixed cheese, cilantro, spring mix, bbq sauce, and death sauce. I do this every week. Like a ritual. I often joke that if I'm ever assassinated it'll be at Freebirds, that's where he'll know to find me (in this imaginary senario my assassin is a man, this is not because I am sexist, rather it is because I am imagining 90s Bruce Willis as my assassin). All he has to do is wait, and sooner or later I’ll show up. For the longest time I didn't want to eat at Freebirds. I had friends telling me about it and I thought it sounded boring. How delicious could a burrito even be? The answer: extremely delicious.

One time my wife and I got into an argument over how much money I was spending on eating out. The craziest part? I knew I was over budget when I went. I knew that this specific trip to freebirds would cause tension in my marriage and I went anyway. It's that good.

When I find something that I like I become almost an evangelist for it. When SlingTV came out I was such a fan I told anyone who would listen. I don't care much for it anymore, it slipped off into obscurity during the rapid development of the great streaming frenzy brought to America via the lockdown of 2020. But I digress.

Have you been to Freebirds? You should try it.

The Nighttime Machine

1/30/23

I have these dreams that I feel are science fiction masterpieces, so when I wake up in the middle of the night from one of these dreams I vigorously write down the plot of the dream in the notes app on my phone. In the morning I have fully forgotten what the dream was but the confidence that it was a SI-FI masterpiece remains. When I open the notes app and read the plot of my dream I realize its actually just a mixture of two extremely popular science fiction movies/books that I’ve viewed in the past. This happens every few months.

I’ve yet to write the next great science fiction novel in my notes pad at three in the morning. But alas, I will continue to try. As I sit here thinking about WHY I do this I realize that there can only be one answer. I, Benjamin Muñoz, do this because I think that I am actually capable of writing the next great American science fiction novel at three in the morning, half asleep, in my two bedroom apartment, in the notes app of my Samsung S22 Ultra. Incredible.

The Spread

2/13/23

Art reception food is bad far too often. I don’t mean the hors d'oeuvres themselves are bad as much as I mean the variety of hors d'oeuvres offered is bad. I realize of course that the point of the reception is not dinner, but to view art and that the food is not important, but isn’t it? I think so. I’ve come to expect a moderate antipasto at the least.

Some galleries negate the food altogether, as if it never happened; as if somehow we exist in some alternate dimension where gallery reception finger-food ecstasies were never introduced. I actually don’t mind this, I would prefer no hors d'oeuvres over the dull, ailing, dreadful selection of uninspiring yellow cheese squares I’ve suffered in some galleries recently. Growing up my father was a pastor, in 1 Corinthians 10:31 the scriptures say “So, whether you eat or drink, or whatever you do, do all to the glory of God.”. Kroger yellow cheese squares? Talk about unworthy.